Lucky and me

“A Sheep's Tale”

by Sandy Crisafulli

            For you city folk, did you ever notice how baby lambs have that tail that wiggles so adorably when they nurse, but that sheep have no tails?  There’s a reason.  Sheep’s tails have weight, but no muscle, so they are in a very bad spot, hygienically.  So, we have a simple solution, called “docking”.

         This is done with an elastic that looks like a fat rubber washer and a tool to stretch out this elastic.  A spring lamb, very young, spends it’s days hopping and dancing around, because it has a pretty great life, in green pastures.  We take a moment like this to slip one of these elastics up onto top of it’s tail.

          Rest assured, this truly does NOT hurt the lamb.  I tested it out on my finger.  In a little bit, the finger, er, tail, goes to sleep.  All you feel is those tingles for a bit, then nothing.  The fun part is when the “tingles” strike the lamb.  It’s just like they are giddy.  They bounce around the field like all four feet are on one high-jumping pogo stick! 
           

              I think bouncing lambs are my favorite sight-memory from childhood.

          Remember, these lambs were pets, so, I promise you, there was no pain. (oh, yes, the finger is fine.  Mom saw it in time, and cut the elastic off, and the color faded.)  What would happen to the lambs’ tails, in weeks, the tails would simply fall off!  They never even noticed!

          Remember, these lambs were pets, so, each tail was a particularly special souvenir.  I kept each one, lovingly, in my bottom dresser drawer.  Let’s see, I was six when first we got sheep, and we had six to ten lambs every January, so I had quite a holding in my souvenir drawer.  Until …
           

          One day I heard a scream from the house!  I heard it all the way from the barn, so it was a good one.  I had forgotten to put my clean clothes away from the piles that day, and my Mom had done it for me.  (For the first time in years.)  She pulled open my bottom drawer, not knowing it wasn’t for clothes, and …
           

           Just in case you ever plan to eat again in this life, I really should skip the explanation of what happens to unattended tails.  (The word maggot is icky.)

            But I can still hear my Mom …

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    Heidi and her “Pasketti”

“For Real, Aunt Sandy?”

by Sandy Crisafulli

Children are an every-day adventure, where nieces are a rare treat.  This also holds true for grandchildren, but I’m thinking now of the fun I’ve had with my niece, Heidi.

            Her Mom, Carol, had all the day-to-day duties of raising her, and all I had to do was enjoy her good work, and sometimes un-do it.  Carol taught Heidi ladylike modesty, I taught her “streaking”.  Carol taught her oh so much in the kitchen that today Heidi is a magnificent cook.  I taught her, well …

            I worked most weekends, so really looked forward to times Heidi could come to the country to spend weekends with me.  We’d swim and boat, which meant Daz swam us around the lake, pulling our rope, while we sat on a big board.

            I remember the day Carol came out, and was sitting on the shore waiting for us to get back in.  Daz was towing us in, and Heidi, age 5, kept asking me if we were close enough, so she could jump in and show Carol how well she’d learned to swim.  Finally, I thought we were near enough to shore, and I gave Heidi the nod.  She jumped in, and disappeared!            

            Carol was panicking on the shore, and I was ready to sacrifice, and get wet, when, finally, Heidi popped back up, just fine and swimming.  We gave Carol quite a few breathless moments over the years.

            Like when I got my first motorcycle.  She came out one day, and I wanted to take her for a ride, but Carol was afraid I was too new on it to be ready.  I assured her that I’d ridden passengers before, and she finally agreed.

            We had a nice ride, and when we got home, she told me that she was surprised, that I really did drive it well, even with a passenger.  I said, “Well, I’ve practicing … with Heidi.”

            Like all kids, Heidi tended to tell tales.  Once, at home, she told Carol that I had tied her up.  Carol dismissed that as “kid talk”.  That is, until my photos came back, and there was Heidi, hog-tied, head to toe, in hair ribbons.  Heidi had wanted me to pretty her up with the ribbons we’d bought.

            She never bragged about how well we ate, though.  One Saturday, we had gotten up early, hiked up the stream and climbed up “Paul’s Falls”.  (Another story.)  We had gone swimming and boating, and had spent the afternoon in the garden.  In the house, we had multiple dogs and a very bossy parakeet to play with.  At about 6 pm, Heidi said, “Aunt Sandy, I’m hungry.”

            Yikes, I had even skipped breakfast!  We hadn’t had a thing all day, because I got too carried away enjoying.  So, to supper ...

            I asked her what she’d like, and she (age 5 or 6 then) said, “Pasketti”. So I replied,”If I give you pasketti, will you eat it?”

             “Oh, yes, Aunt Sandy, I’m very hungry.”

            So, I held out her chair, got the box of spaghetti, and placed a handful in front of her.   Big eyes… “For Real, Aunt Sandy?”

           “You said …”

            “But … but … but …

            I sat and waited.

            “But, there’s no sauce.”

            No problem, I plunked some sauce on.

            “For real, Aunt Sandy?”  (I just love hearing those words.)

            Well, we finally did eat.  We made brownies, and ate them.  (But, we didn’t cook them, either.)

            She had her Mom to teach her those things.