Hearth and Home
Ewe, Me, and
The stillness and peace of morning are a precious commodity to a homeschooling mom.
I sat at my kitchen table awaiting the
eight alarm clocks to echo from different
corners of the house. My husband and I
had learned at a homeschool conference
to “teach lessons of responsibility early”
by providing an alarm clock to our child.
That’s great if you have only one or two
children, but if you have eight children
with eight alarm clocks, get ready for a
disorganized symphony of noise! Each
alarm clock sound reflected our children’s precious gift of individuality.
The alarm clocks blared sound waves of
melodies, rhythms, and pulsating warn-
ing bells. We had it all: Spanish mariachi
band, country music, classical strings,
and the local news reporter who sound
like a used car salesman. My personal fa-
vorite was the bugle horns that shattered
my nerves. But my all-time treasured
sound was the loud, untuned static. So
much for peaceful country living!
So there I sat enjoying the last sips of
coffee and bracing myself for the “eight
alarms.” It was then that I glanced out
the window and almost let the last good
drops of coffee spew out of my mouth.
In disbelief, I put down my mug and
ran outside in my pajamas to witness
what I saw coming up our very steep, 26
percent-grade country driveway. In single
file, all nine sheep and our two pygmy
goats were meandering up the driveway.
The leader of this well-organized parade
was our senior sheep with … an orange
bucket on her head. Yes, a bucket!
I ran to get a camera because I was sure
no one would believe me. Hollywood
couldn’t have staged this any better!
By the time I got back to the scene, the
sheep with the bucket over her head
had continued to stroll up to our old
abandoned pool. The dormant pool was
about 7 feet wide, 12 feet long, and at its
deepest point about an eight-foot drop.
By Beth Mora