Monday, January 5, 2009

this place...

I am wide awake because I just had the crap scared out of me. Twenty minutes ago I was asleep, blissfully asleep. But I was snapped out of bed by loud bangs and thuds. Someone, or something, was on my porch. The thuds just kept getting louder, followed by steps. I was terrified. I slowly rose out of bed and then pulled a curtain aside from the window. There in the half moonlight, I saw a blur of activity. Then my eyes darted down right below the window.

Maude was staring back at me, about six inches from the glass. I jumped back, surprised and simotaneously relieved it wasn't serial killers, or zombies, or worse yet those serial-killing zombies that are all the rage these days. Alas, just my three clever sheep. Looked like she and the boys had escaped from the pen and made a break for the cabin. They were happily eating their breakfast that I would've carried out to them in a few hours. Guess they were too hungry for AM room service and opted for take-out instead. Christ, this place.

I rolled my eyes, slung on my boots and parka, and grabbed the crook and lantern by the door on the way out. When I rounded the corner of the porch the trio of hoodlums jumped off the planks and turned around looking at me, well, sheepishly. I felt like a fussy storekeeper telling kids they couldn't skateboard here. They looked back at me with the same mild defiance of teenagers who just started listening to the Clash circa '79. If sheep ever looked like they should be wearing leather jackets with safety pins all over them, this was that moment.

"Let's go punks, London's calling" I said under my breath, walking back to their pen. Sal followed right behind me, he knew I was going for the grain bin. The other two trotted behing him in single file. I lead the flock back to their gate, (which they broke out of by lifting it off the hinges) and bribed them back inside with grains. I rigged what I could to fix it, praying it would last till morning. Not that it would matter if it didn't since they'd just be back on the porch again anyway. But still, what a way to start the week. Barnyard rebellion in the moonlight.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have to admit (being a person into said apocalyptic zombies) that the thought of a zombie sheep bleating bbbbbbraaaainsss did fleet through my mind, and it was uproariously terrifying... for me at least.

January 5, 2009 at 9:45 AM  
Blogger Mare said...

You have sheep waking you up in the wee hours on a cold dark Winter's night...I have an elderly dog with a weak bladder...sigh...

January 5, 2009 at 9:54 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

How do I send you a pix? I live in Rathdrum, ID and just finished your book. I want to send a license plate photo!

January 5, 2009 at 11:41 AM  
Blogger Jenna said...

you just need to email it to me, my address is on the right sidebar of this email (or if your screen resolution is really giant, on the bottom) long as it's under 300k I can see it. I can't download giant images (anything over 300K) due to having dial up at home.

January 5, 2009 at 11:45 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh Dear! Too funny. I'm sorry your sleep was interrupted though.

January 5, 2009 at 2:15 PM  
Blogger ccg said...

I'm so glad it was only "sheep ordering takeout"...I wanted to write and say ever since I heard of you and your blog a week or so ago, thanks to the Boston Globe Ideas section, I've been following your blog, and you continuously make my day. Your writing is warm and evocative, the icing on the cake is that your subject/s are so interesting and fabulous too.
Thanks for sharing with us...and wishing you continued success and happiness in the new year.

January 5, 2009 at 6:19 PM  
Blogger Keeper of Little Sweetie said...

Oh my gosh, did I clog your system with my photo? I hope not! I didn't bother to even check the size, but I bet it was a doozy! Let me know.
Am continuing to enjoy your posts... what a hoot!

January 5, 2009 at 6:26 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I had the weekend off, found, bought, and read your inspiring book. Today I ordered a fiddle and a teaching set (the book you recommended). I am fifty-nine, can't sing and never could, but I love mountain music and hope the fiddle can do better than my voice so I can finally make some music! It's just those memories of sitting on my grandpa's country porch in Oklahoma on a starry night, listening to the neighbor Slim Parkinson play his fiddle and my grandpa Harvey on his harmonica, and singing Ol' Dan Tucker and Tennessee Stud. Gotta try. Thank you, Barb in Portland, Oregon

January 6, 2009 at 12:57 AM  
Blogger Jenna said...

Barb! that is amazing! You need to keep me posted. That book will be all you need, but i also suggest an electronic tuner (cheap, like 15 bucks at a music store) to make sure your strings are correct. The music guys will show you how to use it. And also, get a small bandana to keep in your fiddle case to wipe rosin off the strings. I suggest buying Hill Dark Rosin (in the green cloth) for it. You'll thank me. stick with it. you'll be glad you did!

January 6, 2009 at 6:27 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Have you seen the movie Black Sheep? a movie about Zombie Sheep.. I rather like it more than human zombie movies, but it could make the early morning sheep-wakeup-call a bit scarier.

January 6, 2009 at 8:53 AM  

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