Chapter Sixteen:
Winds of Change
[Page 1]
Lally and Renny were almost a year old. We had sold Harmony, the
female born right after them, as well as Pocahontas and Juliet.
It felt wonderful to finally recoup our investment in llamas and
still have five females, including these two lovely young maidens.
We trained them; we took them for walks. I was slightly more fond
of Lally, while Kelly favored Renny, but both of them were delightful.
Ever since we had weaned them, they had spent most of every day
with each other.
After giving up our day hikes business, we were expanding another
llama-related venture, Juniper Ridge Press. We already had one book--an
earlier version of this one--and several videotapes. I was editing
a packing book being written by our friend Stanlynn Daugherty and
collecting information for another book of my own, Llamas for
Love and Money.
When I wrote, I usually felt the hot breath of my writer parents,
perfectionists both, as they leaned over my shoulder. Never mind
that both had been dead for years. I still heard my mother, writer
of engineering textbooks, telling me to be clearer and my father,
science-fiction writer, telling me to be more imaginative.
Even so, I felt that finally, in my forties, I was doing what I
wanted to do when I grew up. And I loved computers! Besides making
the writing go more smoothly, they made it possible for me to do
the typesetting and publishing myself.
Kelly's passion for film had been with him since his early twenties.
Now, with video equipment, he loved the freedom to make programs
on a budget so modest that we could fund them ourselves. A far cry
from the high costs of film! We both were aware that we couldn't
have created our little media business even a few years earlier.
We were right on the edge of the technology. Our biggest problems
were finding time to juggle all our projects.
We were only expecting one baby this summer, because we had sold
Juliet, and Lil Bit hadn't gotten pregnant again. Posey was due
late in July. We were disappointed about Lil, but at least we could
do some travelling together.
We went to a llama conference where I attended and Kelly videotaped
a llama reproduction workshop put on by a llama researcher, Dr.
LaRue Johnson. Then we continued across Oregon to the spectacular
Wallowa mountains, where Stanlynn Daugherty operated her llama packing
business. Kelly was collecting videotape footage for a packing program
featuring her and several other llama packers. I would be better
able to edit her packing book if I'd hiked with her. What better
excuses could you want for a bit of adventure?
We went out with her and several other llama lovers on a "Learn
to Llama Pack'' trip. Several days of spectacular mountain scenery,
outstanding food, and a group of llamas to hike with made for a
memorable fourth of July weekend. Kelly got the video footage he
wanted, and I learned all kinds of things that would go into the
book.
It was a long drive home. "We're so lucky to be doing what
we love for a living,'' I mused to Kelly as we drove through the
Oregon desert.
"Yes,'' he said. "Isn't it partly a matter of being willing
to take risks?''
"I guess so, but I don't think of myself as much of a risk-taker.''
"You left your forty hours a week and reliable income at the
public library.''
"Yea. I sure have missed the reliable income sometimes, but
not the forty hours! There are too many things I want to do, to
work full time.'' I conveniently ignored the sixty-hour weeks we
sometimes put in, between ranch work and our creative efforts. It
felt different when you were doing it for yourself, and besides,
there were also those weeks we didn't get around to much of anything.
"I've been thinking,'' Kelly said. He was driving, and even
though I could see that he was watching the road, his eyes had a
far-away look. I was instantly attentive. We'd been together long
enough that I recognized that look. It was the look that preceded
a trip he'd made to the Soviet Union. It was the look that preceded
our hikes business. What had he been mulling over now?
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