Birds of a feather

You probably don't know this but I keep a flock of sheep here in the Treehouse. They're great for keeping the weeds under control. I only wish they'd graze on fabric scraps.

Well, maybe they aren't actual sheep. They're sheepskins. And maybe they can't be considered a flock. Maybe just a pair. There's a story about these sheepskins.

I purchased them many years ago--it was the early 70's as I recall--on a trip to New Zealand. In the early days of my travels I was not averse to buying big souvenirs and carting them across the world. That was back in the day when one could roll up two bulky sheepskins and check them through with one's luggage at no extra cost. Imagine.

I knew my apartment would look really cool with these sheepskins on the floor. It was so very important to look cool in those days. They would complement my macrame wallhangings and the striped madras bedspread that covered the twin bed in my living room that served as a couch....not to mention, my shag haircut.

So now I'm a little sick of them actually. They've lost their coolness. But I hate to get rid of them. They feel like old friends. So I think I might just put them in a large plastic tote and label it doll hair. Maybe if I get rid of them little-by-little it will be less traumatic.

Here, though, is an authentic flock.

I got out a small Christmas tree to see how they'd look and I'm quite pleased. Very colorful. I've made a little more than two dozen so far. At some point I thought I might be addicted to making birds, and I often wondered just how far the compulsion would take me. Then one day I realized I hadn't birded in almost a week. Boy, was I relieved. I had begun to think I might have to check myself in to the Betty Bird Clinic...