Shepherd's Helpers

Over the holidays, I have had a neighbor helping with the sheep. Unfortunately, the flock has not been too cooperative and has given the shepherd's helpers some difficulty. I don't know if it's only my sheep who seem to get so attached or accustomed to one caretaker, but they are very skittish and unwilling to go into the barn for others. For me, the grain bucket just needs to be tapped a little bit and they all come running. Never any difficulty at all getting them in and fed at night.
However, that's not the story when others have taken care of them in my absence.
Yesterday during the blizzard, they were safe and sound, warm and cozy - all were in and doors were closed, keeping wet snow out and wooly critters dry. I am eager to see them and all of the snow we've gotten while I have been away visiting family, and as long as there are still ten little sheep when I get back to The Salty Ewe, it's all good.
Being with family has been a much needed and relaxing time, and even though I have been far from the farm, it's been clear to me that the Salty Ewe has become a state of mind for me as much as a physical location. So much to be thankful for as 2010 comes to a close, and good neighbors and friends who watch over the flock and the other beasts are a big part of that feeling. So, cheers to you all and thank you for everything that you do for all of us.

Winter's Here

Wise One of the Neighborhood

We're finally getting some decent snow today. Woke up to a fresh coating of fluffy, white stuff...sticking to the trees and making everything look so pristine and calm. Beate loved it and did some prancing and pouncing, which was wonderful to see. The sheep were in fine form, too. The black ewe lambs were jumping and wiggling all over the place, and the older ewes were even doing some dancing, too.

This photo is one that a neighbor took and mailed to me a couple of years ago. He's a resident owl and is often seen sitting down the road on this sign. I love listening to them at night, hooting to each other from across the fields. I think there are Great Horned as well as this type, which I think is a Barred Owl. The wise men of Monkeytown.

The Shortest Days

sheepish

Yesterday was a beautiful day - the kind that is somewhat rare in mid-December in Maine. Sunny, not too cold, no wind. It was a day to get some chores done outside. To spend some good time with faithful Beate and enjoy the quiet rhythm of a Saturday. Had a special visit from Lori and celebrated her birthday with lunch down at the Pier and some quality time here at the Salty Ewe. While I unloaded some hay, she got out her camera and took some beautiful pictures of everyone (including this one, which I love).

I knew something wasn't quite right when I could not open up the door. Looked in to see a small mess - they had knocked over a partition and gotten into the grain bucket. I squeezed myself into the barn and cleaned up the mess, assessing the damage and trying to determine just how much grain they had eaten.
Meanwhile, the ewes flocked together outside, looking sheepish in every sense of the word. They truly had little guilty looks on their faces - smiles that had a sneaky sheep look about them. It was pretty funny. More funny after I figured that they had not eaten enough to hurt them. Lori took some gorgeous pictures of them while I unloaded the truck - her eye is enviable, and I really enjoy looking at the images that she takes of my sheep. It's fun to see how other people see them. Beate was feeling better and enjoyed wandering around, sniffing and marking, while Lori and I talked and soaked in the sun, the view and each other's company.

These short, short days are sometimes difficult - especially when there's no sun. But, the winter solstice is just days away now, and our days will slowly get longer again. Eventually, I suspect we'll get some snow. The sheep's fleeces will continue to thicken, and Bella and Callie will start to waddle. Winter will melt away into Spring. The rhythm of the seasons. You have to have those shortest days in order to have the longest ones.

Looking Back. And Ahead.

One of my favorite pictures ever. By Lori Schafer

The Babydolls on the day they arrived

It was about this time of year, almost ten years ago now, that I got my first sheep. Faith, Hope and Charity were Jacobs and scheduled to be slaughtered unless someone took them in. The Amazing Tony Elliott of Snug Harbor Farm knew that I had been thinking about getting sheep and knew I was a softie who would definitely want to help when I heard the story behind these sheep. They taught me so much about raising and caring for sheep - not easy lessons and not easily learned, but all important and very necessary events.  I lost track of how many lambs were born on the Salty Ewe back in those days; there were many after the first tragic year. The Jacob lambs are incredibly cute with those spots, and the horns are fun to watch grow as well.

It was the horns and the sheer size of the breed that made me start thinking about downsizing to miniature sheep. When I found out about three Babydoll Southdowns who were living in someone's backyard in what I consider to be a pretty urban part of Massachusetts, I was very interested. It was a unique transaction, and I discovered quickly that the ram was quite aggressive. When I called the woman from whom I'd bought the sheep to ask if he had shown this dangerous behavior with her, she responded by writing that he had never "butted her in the head"(I'd used the term head butting) and that he was only 'really bad' when it came time to feed them. As a self-taught and relatively novice farmer, I did know that rams who were aggressive were not good to keep around. I gave it time and tried to work with him, but after he broke my knee with a swift butt to the leg, I knew that something needed to change. It was like he had a little sheep complex, and he was far more difficult to handle than any of the Jacob rams had ever been. In the end, he sired some beautiful lambs and one ram, Bill, who has stayed on and kept all of his positive characteristics. Rollie went on to a 4-H family and is quite well-behaved in his new home from what I have heard.

So, it's funny as I look back and think about how I was trying to find easier sheep to handle by sizing down and what I ended up with was a ram who was far more aggressive and two ewes who were far less social than what I had before. I missed the Jacobs for a long time and sadly think they met no happy end when the woman I sold them to changed her life's direction (she has not responded to emails inquiring about them). You try and try to plan and make changes to improve or ease your life, and in the end, it sometimes feels like it's all for naught. What will be, will be. No matter how much we plan or prepare, the outcome will still and always be what it was intended to be. No matter.

'Tis the Season

We're finally having Winter-like weather in southern Maine, and while we still haven't had any accumulating snow, the temperatures have dropped significantly and the skies are looking darker and more foreboding these days. The northern part of the state got a lot of snow on Monday, and while I am not ready to start the shoveling routine yet, I admit the the perks of copious amounts of snow do make the day job more appealing. Snow days as an adult are so much better than they ever were as a kid, and I am always as excited as the kids about predictions of big storms and possible snow days.
The sheep's fleeces are growing in quickly now that the weather's turned cold. I sunk my hand into little Obed's coat this morning and my fingers sunk in well above my knuckles - so, judging he's got a nice 4" fleece at this point. I am going to try to enter his fleece and some others into the Common Ground fleece show next September. I've never thought too seriously about coating them, since I love looking at their colors and the palette of wooly hues out there, but if I am going to get more serious about their fleeces, I will need to pay more attention to the stray hay this winter. Am going to look into some new feeders that I saw at Common Ground - canvas bags that hang from the wall, allowing the animals to pull out the hay they want. We'll see whether they work for my flock and if they help to minimize veggie matter in the wool.

Loki and Odin

It's all a big learning curve, that's for sure. One more thing that makes me happy about living at The Salty Ewe with all of these peaceful critters ... all the critters - Loki and Odin, Beate and the wooly wonders.
They are my little animal family.
Like Randall Jarrell's The Animal Family, a beautiful book that I first read many years ago, I am surrounded by fur and wool and love. And, though I am not a lonely hunter, I find great comfort and solace in their company; the substitute family that I call mine is no match for the real animals to whom I am related (all of whom live too far away for my liking (whose blood has thinned and coats have shed to suit their Southern climates) but they do the trick in a pinch. 'Tis the season to be thankful and joyous and peaceful. And, that I am.

My Beate

Jumping for Joy

Wooly Running Bella

While we don't have snow yet in Maine (this is am image from last winter), the ground has frozen and so the sheep are eating hay and grain now rather than grasses. The morning ritual has taken on a new twist, and each day for the past week I have had a lot of fun watching the sheep jump with joy as they follow me out to the spot in the field where I drop them a small pile of hay.
The younger ones actually leave the ground, wiggling and running into the air as their little heads bob up and down with excitement. They kick up their back feet and do a little shimmy as they bound across the field around me - some in front, some to the side and usually one or two behind me (Callie and Bella, the two matrons of the flock).
Bill has quieted down and seems very content in his pen, and even though he cannot get too close to the ewes, he is still able to see them most of the time. At night, he can hear and smell them. He does his own macho version of the wiggle dance when he gets his breakfast - which involves a bit of head bobbing and a quickened pace as he runs around the fenced area that he has...
The early morning light has been beautiful the past few mornings, with Venus shining bright at the tip of a waning crescent moon this morning as I did the morning chores. Yesterday, we had a gorgeous pink and red sky as the sun rose; the clouds were all lit up from underneath, and I stood there for several minutes, soaking it all in and listening to the contented sheep munching away on their hay. It is a simple and good life here at the Salty Ewe. Even on the darkest and most difficult days, these sheep make me smile and bring me back to a place of humility and thankfulness.

Ish Kabibble

Ish Kabibble

Small town service stations are a dime a dozen, but we have one here in town that should win an award for Best Small Gas Station. When I went in a few days ago with a frazzled look and in desperate need of some assistance, the amazing owner took pity on me, sent me home with a bottle of wine and assured me they would take care of the truck the following day. 

The next day when I returned, I brought Bill the owner a hat that I'd knitted up. He was thrilled and put in on immediately. He lives down the road and has commented on how the sheep seem to do nothing but eat and sleep, so I was happy to share some of their 'productivity' with him. It was also the least I could do for him.

An old salt who is creeping up on ninety sat there and laughed when Bill donned the hat, saying that he looked like Ish Kabibble. This, of course, commenced a lengthy discussion about who old Ish Kabibble was and why the old salt was reminded of him by Bill in the hat. One thing led to another, and I ended up giving another hat to the older gentleman before he left. Bill and I laughed and repeated the name over and over, finding some silly amusement in the sound of it.

It was one of those classic afternoons that made me chuckle to myself for the rest of the day. And, like a song that gets stuck in your head for days and days, I have found myself saying the word Ish Kabibble in my mind and smiling at the sound -and memory - of it.

Thankful

Two beautiful girls

Sunny and cold on this Sunday morning before Thanksgiving. Woke to a bright red sunrise, brewed up some strong Maine roasted joe and took the walk down to the end of the lane without the beast for the first time in more than ten years. She has aged overnight and has not wanted to go on our morning walks for a couple of weeks now. This morning, I decided that I needed to start walking without her on the mornings she didn't feel up to it. It was an odd feeling - assuaged only by the incredible view and knowing she was home snoozing.
I started her on some Rimadyl a few days ago and it's definitely helping. Time will tell.
Beate has lived up to her name more than I ever could have imagined possible when I first got her back in February of 2000. She was born in Orland, Maine and delivered to me, sight unseen, by a young man who was at Maine Maritime and knew that I had recently lost my dog Annie. She arrived the day after Valentine's Day and has been an exemplary companion; she's the first dog that I have gotten as a puppy and trained on my own, and it's been an incredible experience working with such a smart animal. (sheep are really kind of dumb, even though I hate to admit that).

snoozing

In addition to being wicked smart, Beate us insanely energetic, beautifully behaved (after those first months of complete destruction, which I have chosen to forget) and just overall an excellent dog. She has brought more joy than her name could suggest and while I know we have more mornings to walk the lane, I also know that there will be more mornings than not ahead when she will not feel up to walking. Being thankful for each of those days, regardless of what they may hold, is all the good shepherd can do.

Getting Wiser with Age

When I first started with Jacob Sheep almost ten years ago now, I knew absolutely nothing about sheep other than that they produced wool. Faith, Hope and Charity were three ewes that came to me from almost out of the blue - and, they were the ones who really taught me almost everything that I now know about raising sheep. They came to me bred, and I had no idea how old they were or what their past had been like. The spring after they arrived, lambing season brought huge challenges. Hope gave birth to a stillborn lamb and developed an infection when she did not drop the placenta within a reasonable length of time (for sheep, that can be an hour or so). Charity ended up having prolapse and a very large lamb who was stuck but born, eventually with the vet's help, very much alive. And, Faith lambed out beautifully on her own - a wonderful wether named Obed. Several sheep from that flock went to my friend Graham and his wife, and I ultimately sold the rest of the flock to a woman in Charlotte, Maine. 

Hands-on learning has taken on a whole new meaning for me since starting with sheep. I am humbled and amazed by these critters and seem to learn something new from them every day. They are peaceful and docile animals that do absolutely no harm to any other living creature. They eat, poop, drink water and keep the field mowed. They baa - to each other, to me, and to neighborhood kids. They provide gorgeous fleeces that keep them warm as well as those who end up wearing their wool on their heads after it's knitted into hats. Simple animals and simple life. Important lessons from wise teachers and willing student. So should it always be.

Zvookie from New Vineyard

Getting Stuck.

Bill was mowing the field one last time and wanted to cut down the cattails that apparently bother him; he ended up getting stuck in the muck. He was not too happy. The tractor sat for hours and when Junior got home and tried to pull Bill's rig from the muddy mess, it was not successful. Both men were then angry and short on humor. I called Jed - who ended up coming over more to watch the scene than anything else, and he arrived at the same time as the wrecker.

Fence posts and fences were moved. 

The men spoke a language I didn't really understand.

The tractor was pulled out and everyone went home, leaving loosened earth and disheveled fencing.

Bill, Junior and Bob the Tow Guy

Getting stuck is never any fun, whether it's in mud or snow or ice or sand. I've been stuck in them all at one point or another in my life, and the getting unstuck has always taken work. Sometimes a push from a neighbor or passerby, and other times a winch and a chain. Once, I remember waiting for a tide to change in the Royal River after grounding a sailboat in a sandbar during a foggy sail with Seth. That took some patience. But, the stories that remain - the memories that shape our experiences and histories - they are the best part of getting stuck. And unstuck. 

Sheep Love

Just Bella

Bella and Bill

A couple of days ago, I got home from work to discover Bill missing from his pen. Initially, I got nervous and jumped to some silly conclusions; when I saw that he had somehow made his way into the big pasture with the ewes, I laughed out loud. It was a mystery to me how he could have escaped from his pen. The hog panels that I used to create his outside space are sturdy and too high for him to jump over, and when I inspected his area there were no holes or gaps that he could have wiggled through. I went to bed perplexed.
The following morning, I saw something that I had not seen with the Babydolls before. With the Jacobs, a much larger breed, it was not uncommon to have sheep jump a fence. But, with legs shorter than 24", I never considered that Bill would be able to jump over the barrier that I had built in the barn. But, he did.
As I was opening the doors for the ewes, I heard a clunk and turned to see him standing up on back legs, peering over the wall and into the ewes' pen.  Laughed out loud again.
Then, I walked outside with all girls behind me so I could toss Bill his bundle of hay. Suddenly, a loud thunk and then Bill. He jumped over and joined us, happy as a pig in shit.
Quickly, which is not easy at 6 AM, I tempted him with some grain, lured him back into the barn then into his pen and then found another old barn board and some screws. I ran up to the house for my drill, rigged up another 12" barrier and hoped for the best. Bill was not pleased.
So, I am hoping to only have two ewes lamb out in March. But, after the jumping ram's visit with the other 7 ewes, only time will tell.

Falling Back

O'Dark Thirty. What a treat it was waking up to some light this morning. How quickly the day went, though. And, after a beautiful red sky at sunset, it was dark by 5 PM. Really dark. Crazy daylight saving - it throws me every year. Moreso in the fall for some reason, when most people seem to be so excited about the "extra hour"... although the springing ahead in March (is it March?) usually makes me feel a little discombobulated, too.

Turning the clock forward in Ohio for the first Daylight Saving Time
1918

The sheep were ready for their grain at yesterday's time...and my internal alarm clock is no longer reliable (until it resets itself). I am not so sure that the benefits of this whole messing with time actually outweigh the natural order of things, and while I am intrigued about why it was started and by whom. If the evil looking man in the center had anything to do with it, we should all be a little curious about the motives. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing...

November Already

some beautiful hand spun babydoll yarn 

Time flies for sure. Suddenly, it's November. Time to take Bella and Callie out of the mating suite with Bill and start to watch the calendar. Looking forward to lambs is one of the best parts of winter for me, and if all goes as planned, we'll have some new lambs at the Salty Ewe in March.
Knitting nightly and trying to prepare for holiday sales - think that my inventory is up to almost a dozen hats right now - all shades, mostly striped but a few solids. Very calming work, the knitting. And, wearing the knit lids is a joy... especially on cool autumn mornings.

Patience

Girl's Best Friend

Patience has never been one of my virtues. And, the older I get the less it seems like a priority but the more it seems like a necessity.
Some bumpy days recently at the Salty Ewe with predators of the two-legged variety. The bored and high species of the mayonnaiseland dinkuseructus adolescent struck in the night and broke into the barn. None too original given last year's visit from a similar species.
Learning to be patient this late in life is certainly a challenge, but I know for a fact that you can indeed teach old dogs new tricks, and so I am preparing myself for the Salty Ewe Challenge. Patience must rule in moments like these, and keeping an even keel for the flock is what a good shepherd must do. So, a dose of reality for today on the blog and at the farm. Keeping it honest and seriously considering a guard animal. With very sharp teeth.

Funny Sight

Miss Maya

A few days ago, I looked out and saw something that I am not too sure I have seen before. The sheep had segregated themselves by color. The three black ewes were all grazing together up on the rocky ledge, the three white sheep (two ewes and Obed the wether) were grazing about 50 feet away, all together. Maya, who's grown into a beautiful oatmeal color like Callie, was off on her own, somewhere in the middle of the two groups. This configuration was pretty funny to observe, and I found myself standing there, watching, waiting to see how long they would stay apart from one another. It was maybe five minutes...then, one of the black ewe lambs bounded over to the others and joined right in.
It made me wonder about how intentional the pattern might have been, or whether they are even able to tell the difference between a black sheep and a white sheep and an oatmeal colored sheep. When a ewe gives birth to twins and one is white and the other black, she treats them equally and without any apparent favoritism to either one. Again, I am struck by the parallels to our own human interactions.
This brings back fond memories of reading The Color of Water... and it simply makes me smile to think that we actually have so much in common with these wooly beasts.

PS - Later on that evening, the same thing happened ... the three black sheep were all together just outside the barn doors, the three white ones were about 35 feet away, and Maya was the third point of the triangle, oatmeal colored apex. Very funny that it happened again. Maybe it's happened a lot before and I just had never noticed it.

My Maine Thing

The Gang at GRB...Dad is the curly headed one on the far right

Many years ago, I gave my Dad a small picture book by B.A.King titled My Maine Thing. It's a very simple book, full of gorgeous black and white images from all over Maine. I remember writing something on the inside cover for my father, in essence thanking him (and my mom) for introducing Maine to me and for making our family visits to Goose Rocks Beach such positive and memorable experiences for so many years. Now that I have called Maine home for almost twenty-five years, I look back on those family vacations with great fondness and an even greater appreciation for Maine than I have ever had probably.
It's difficult sometimes being the only one in our family who lives in the state - yet, the presence of so many generations is comforting to me, especially on Goose Rocks Beach. So, when I start feeling pangs of missing my family (which inevitably occur from time to time), I usually find myself walking along the beach and gazing out across the Atlantic. The ocean has a calming affect on me - always has. It's true what they say about feeling small and inconsequential when you're looking out at such an impressive natural sight. Everything seems to slip into a balanced perspective when we put ourselves and our worries next to such greatness.
The beach holds many memories - of mine and of family members I never met. The sense of place that I feel in Kennebunkport comes from many generations of Youngs and Schuylers (and Shuttleworths and Annises) who also walked along Goose Rocks Beach and who found peace and comfort there. So, even though I may be miles and miles away from my family, I am home here in Maine. "My Maine Thing" has brought me a lifestyle that is rewarding and healthy, active and productive, and most of all, a life that celebrates a place where so many members of my family have flocked for years to relax and unwind. I feel so blessed to be able to live here, happily, with the sheep and the dog and cats...and memories enough to get me through long spans without family around.

Yips and Yelps

Awoken today in the wee hours of morning by eerie sounds outside. Sort of a barking, yipping sound. Not too sure what was making the noise, but my hope is fox and not coyote. The cats, dog and I were all awake in a flash sometime around 3 AM - way too dark to see anything outside, too scary to go out and inspect. The sheep are all locked up in their barn in the evenings, so I knew they were safe, but I can't help wonder if they, too, were woken up and afraid in their little, sheep brains.

There's been a ton of fox scat up and down Bufflehead this summer and fall, so I'm going to hope for the best and keep my ears open for night time visitors.

Smiling Sheep

Yesterday, I opened up the fence and let some of the sheep wander into my garden to do some end of the season weeding and lawn mowing between the raised beds. They were in heaven. These Babydoll sheep look like they're smiling all the time anyway, but the satiated looks on their faces as they munched away on carrot tops, turnip greens and various other leafy tidbits was priceless. This picture of Bill when he was just a few days old is one of my favorites - his smile is so evident in this shot (but his eyes are not really blue).

It's supposed to be a beautiful weekend here in Maine, and it's a long one with Columbus Day on Monday. Lots to do around the farmette and hoping to get in one last farmers' market tomorrow morning. Planning to also put in all the storm windows and try to move some perennials around, too.
The changing of the seasons always catches me off guard a little - maybe because it happens whether I'm ready or not. Such is life - here at the Salty Ewe and everywhere else, too, I believe.

Garlic!

garlic!

the scapes are beautiful, too

For the past few years, I have been growing garlic and loving it - from the fall planting to the early spring growth...to my favorite part, which is the cooking with and eating of fresh garlic. A totally different beast than the store bought variety, fresh garlic has a different consistency and a more intense flavor.  Whether roasting it or mincing it, the fresh garlic is delicious and really good for you.

I invested in some beautiful garlic seed stock at the Common Ground - bought it from Fedco Seeds (fedcoseeds.com). They are an incredible resource for gardeners and have generational garlic that lends itself well to planting. The variety of garlic that one would buy to plant is different from the kind that we would purchase in a grocery store to eat - with the former more expensive than the latter, too.

The two pounds of seed garlic that I bought will give me close to 100 heads of garlic - two varieties: Red Russian and Music. I have grown the Red Russian before with great results but the Music will be a new variety.
Sheep manure is excellent for some crops - and garlic is among them. Rhubarb is another one of these crops, and so I am also hoping to acquire some local rhubarb starts from a neighbor who has a lot of it growing and get that in the ground this month, too. Always a lot to do at the Salty Ewe during the spring, summer and fall months...

Wool Weather

The sheep's wool is finally starting to grow. It's been such a warm summer that I think it has come in a lot more slowly than I have seen it in past years. These sheep do not produce nearly as much wool as I would like - but what they do give me is beautiful. The heaviest fleece that I have had so far was Una's, and it weighed in at 6 lbs, skirted. Usually, they are in the 3.5-4.5 lb. range. Next spring, I will have three lambswool fleeces to enter into the show at Common Ground, and each of them should be closer to 5 lbs, with two natural colored and one white.  I'm excited to enter them and learn more about the judging of fleece - and am motivated to keep their wool as free of veggie matter as I can without covering them. I saw some great canvas feeders at the fair, and I think that I may try one of those to see if it works for them. Seems like it would cut down on waste and also minimize the debris in their coats.

The end of summer graze

Bill, Callie and Bella in April

Paying attention to weather and feed and how these elements, as well as pregnancy and nursing, will affect the fleece is something that I have enjoyed observing. Kind of like watching the grass grow, I guess. A little like Annie Dillard. 

More Common Ground.

These are the three masks that I wrote about in an earlier post. They were on display at Common Ground in the Wednesday Spinners' Tent. Lori took the photos.

Susan Barrett Merrill's work has really made a very strong impression on me in a pretty short period of time. I finished reading her book Zati: The Art of Weaving a Life within days after getting it and have been digesting it since. I enjoyed Writing Down the Bones and The Artist's Way - both mentioned in a review of the Zati book, and Katharine Cobey's work has intrigued me since I first learned about her several years ago - and she reviewed the book positively.
When I read the other books, I was looking at writing and the process of writing; this new creative experience - involving sheep and their fleece - is so different from writing. Yet, the process is definitely familiar. Weaving has been a metaphor in my own writing throughout the years, and so the concept of Weaving a Life is one that feels about as full circle as it comes. Still knitting up hats but am eventually going to try my hand at weaving and working my way through the projects (keyforms) in Merrill's book.
A winter project to look forward to...

The Black Sheep

Of course, there's the English nursery rhyme. There is a Black Sheep Gathering in Eugene, Oregon every year. One of my favorite ales is Black Sheep, from North Yorkshire. There are yarn shops all over the world that have Black Sheep in their names, and there's an eco-lodge in Ecuador. People have founded Black Sheep Societies and Clubs, named bands and songs after the black sheep and flocked together at numerous festivals, reunions and charity events.

The black sheep. My affinity for these is no surprise, and yet when I read about the history of the Black Sheep lore, I am surprised by just how fitting that connection is. Paradoxical, just like the sometimes salty shepherd. The original records and uses of the 'black sheep' were derogatory in nature, some dating back to the 1700s (and apparently as recently as the 1930s!).  The commonly accepted belief is that black sheep were clumped together with all dark, death-like symbols and thus were considered worthless. However, there are contradictory notions as well; in many places throughout Europe, black sheep are considered good luck. The shepherds in Sussex believe that having black sheep in your flock is an omen of good things to come. While I grew up feeling more like the proverbial black sheep (which I do believe is pretty common for many adolescents), I have grown up to value and to hold on to the positive connotation - regardless of popular opinion. Alas, the black sheep.

This duality is fitting for The Salty Ewe and all black sheep who reside here. Baa ram ewe.

Froggy

I was really wrong about the foliage...so far, it's been as vivid as last year's, and these dark and foggy days seem to make the colors pop even more. We've had thick fog for the past several days in the morning, with one morning so dense that I could not see the back half of the field until I walked up to it. Temperatures are still warm - hence the fog - and so the sheep are enjoying some good grazing weather still; even though the nutrients in the grass are dwindling, they keep on mowing away. Bill has settled into his pen pretty well, too. He still makes some angry-sounding baa's when the ewes start to graze too far away from him, but they are sticking pretty close to his pen lately. A sure sign that they are ready, too.

We're finally going to get the rain we need tonight and tomorrow - and some high winds, too. I got in a small load of hay yesterday afternoon - in between rainy days. Am hoping to fill the hayloft this weekend, which is always a good feeling. It was a great summer for hay, about the opposite of last summer, and I am loving the quality of the bales that Larry has put aside for me. When I went yesterday afternoon, I saw two baby Chihuahuas - about 3 weeks old. Smallest dogs that I have ever seen. His miniature goat Button is the one who I am always drawn to over there, though. A goat that acts like a dog. I wonder if adding one to my flock would help with some of the weeds.

Those Masks

I wandered over to the Wednesday Spinners Tent while Lori was "lost" in the fleece tent. I had never heard of this group before, and so I was instantly drawn in by a table of natural dye stuffs and some beautiful artifacts on/about dyeing, including some hand bound books with wool samples and notes on the process. It was exactly how I envisioned keeping track of my dyeing experiences, so that was the beginning. As I made my way down the back table, a row of women sat spinning in the front of the tent, three masks appeared before me and totally took my breath away. It's hard to describe how they made me feel - but they brought up all kinds of memories immediately and I found myself standing in front of them, in awe. And then their creator walked up.

Susan Barrett Merrill. One of the Wednesday Spinners. We started to talk - about spinning - and then it turned to weaving and the masks. This one is named "Crow"... many more can be seen in the gallery on her website. The three that were on display at the fair were very different than this one; then again, from what I have seen, each one is very different than the next. The more I read, the more I am intrigued by the masks and everything they represent. It was one of those encounters that seems far from coincidental. Had I not gone on a Friday, it would have been too crowded to have the conversation we had. Maybe we would not have met at all. If I did not have my own sheep and was as enthralled by the Fleece Tent as Lori was, I would not have spent that time in the Spinners Tent by myself. And so it goes. Uncle Herbie was right. I am going back to the family's roots.

Common Ground Fair

I am still digesting my day at the Common Ground Fair. Incredible day all the way around - from the company of my friend Lori to incredible conversations with people I may never see again, it was a full day of everything I love. Such a good feeling to be amongst like minded people, although this year the crowd was much more diverse than what I remembered from years ago.  It's been many years since I have been to the fair; I worked at it for Maine Times when it was in Windsor, and then went twice after it had moved to Unity. Next year, we plan to take two days to do it. The more I think about it now, maybe three for me!  The sheep dog exhibition (made even better by the backdrop of some incredible fiddling from a nearby tent), meeting Kelly from Romney Ridge and Betty from Spinnakees were high points. Seeing the Zati masks...pivotal, I sense.  I made some great connections and gave out a number of my new business cards to fleece people -a whole new experience for me. Signed up to add my name to the Maine Sheep Growers list and think that I will enter some fleeces into the competition and sale next year.
Another thing I am struck by is how much I really enjoyed not having people on cell phones. It was the first time in as long as I can remember being in a group that large and not having thousands of people plugged in. It was so refreshing. Everyone was present...talking to each other, interacting and making eye contact. Soaking in everything there is to see, hear, touch and smell. I loved it. Am sure to be writing more about my unexpected meeting of some Wednesday Spinners and the masks. And the Journey Loom. And the thoughts about how it may all come together someday. It was one of those days that was just so full of positive things that you need to take a few days to process it all.

Falling Leaves and Changing Seasons

It's a beautiful day for the last full day of summer, and while I'm not ready for a new season yet, the beauty of Autumn is already starting to pull me along into October and November. The swamp maples have turned and many have dropped the majority of their leaves by now - at least in Southern Maine - and, the big, old maples are starting to drop theirs, too. I picked up an especially beautiful one the other day and thought I smelled burning wax paper as I held it in my hand, twirling it around and admiring its symmetry and color.
The memories of celebrating changes in the seasons are strong - from making placemats out of colored leaves to blowing out eggs and coloring them, we were always doing something at home to ring in a new season. The snowman that was taller than my parents (by a long shot), the time Nancy K. accidentally lit her hair on fire when we were using wax to decorate our Easter eggs, the Halloween prank that scared some kids so badly that they threw all their candy and went running down our front stairs...all of these times are still so clear in my mind that I can still see and smell and hear the memories.
With time, I know they will fade and become less vivid in my memory. This, too, is part of the changing of the seasons. There's no way to stop it, so accepting and being in the moment is how I am choosing to celebrate these shifts as I grow older. And, with any luck, wiser.

Last Sunday of Summer

the last pull from my garden

Not really ready to put away summer yet, but there's no way around it. The last weekend of the summer has been perfect for working outside and preparing for the coming months, and so that's what I've been doing. Cleaning out the garden is like packing up the car and pulling out of Goose Rocks. The only solace is knowing it was a great summer and that another one will be here soon enough - but, the pangs of pulling up the roots of established eggplants and the tangled vines of cucumber and squash always make me a little sad (not to mention sore the following morning).

As I weeded and pulled out bolted lettuce and various vegetables, I tossed a few treats in to Bill. He loves the carrot tops and tried celery leaf...seems to enjoy the weeds that I pick for him on my morning walk more than the garden fare, though. His pen is not too lush after only a week, and so I am trying to supplement his hay diet with picked greens. 

Watching him yesterday was good, as I could see when he was most annoyed and making the most noise; am feeling better now that he's calming down more and seeming to only be agitated when he can't see the ewes - or, when he can see them but they're too far away for his liking. They seem to hang around the fence near him, and my guess is that they miss having him in with them, too. So funny to think about what's going on in their little sheep brains. Probably a lot more than we give them credit for is my guess. 

Not What You Say

Growing up, I heard over and over, "It's not what you say but how you say it." Not sure why that's popping into my head this morning as I listen to Bill make some pretty annoyed sounding baa's out there. After almost an hour of it, he's starting to lower his voice and there's more space between baa's. He is ticked. I know it will get easier and he'll eventually adjust to being separated, but in the meantime it's hard to hear him sounding so mad.

Bella and Hendricks 2010

After almost five years with these sheep, I have learned to listen for the different types of baa's and have found a simple pleasure in listening closely for the intonations that make one bleat very different from another. Like birds and their songs and calls, sheep have a language that is their own. It's taken time, patience and some degree of interest in this phenomenon to even start to understand it - not literally. The patterns are distinctive; at times, a certain baa will be used and at other times, a totally different sounding baa will be. One of my favorite sounds is the 'nickering' that the ewes do with their new lambs. It starts during the birthing itself, which I have observed many times. After birth and during the cleaning-up time, it's incredible to hear. I have never heard them make that sound except during late stages of birthing and early weeks of life, and every spring when I listen, it adds another layer of joy to the whole lambing season. I know that slowing down and listening closely is how we can really hear what people are saying. Sheep, too. Ovine Linguist. Funny.

Felting

Loki admiring the felted Jacob

I have started to play around with some felting, and while I really like it so far, it does not feel like anything that's too good for my hands. So far, I have made a few little acorns - which are cute - but I don't think I'll be doing too many more unless I can find some needles that have much larger handles. This picture is of a great little felted Jacob that was given to me last year by a student (the shepherd has a day job!) and his grandmother had made it just for me. I not only love the little ram itself but moreso love the fact that he was a gift from a kid who knows I love my sheep and wanted to do something kind for me (the day job has amazing perks like this some days). I sent his grandmother a thank you note with some of my babydoll fleece for her to experiment with, and she was thrilled with both I think. We emailed a bit back and forth, and she encouraged me to look online for videos on how to felt wool. Instead, I have read a few books that were loaned to me by my dear friend Lori - along with her needles and the sponge/foam. There are some amazingly talented artists working with fibers - felting and weaving and knitting and spinning - but, the more I learn about all of these possibilities with wool, the more I think my niche is really with raising the little animals. So, as artsy as this shepherd may want to be, I'm happy with taking care of the flock and knitting some hats. Oh, and dyeing the wool...I do really like that piece, too.  And so on that note...taking orders for the holidays, so let me know if you'd like to give some Salty Ewe Knit Lids as gifts this year. They are $25. each and will ship for free (old LLBean style).

After the Rain

rainbow over the salty ewe

We've had some beautiful weather in Maine during the past several months, and even when we have had some rain come through it does not seem to stay around too long. Last week, there was an incredible double rainbow that stretched across all of Cape Porpoise Harbor and felt like it was gracing the Salty Ewe, too. People pulled their cars over on the side of the road to take pictures and to just soak in the view. Nice to see people stopping to take in nature. No matter how many rainbows I have seen in my life, they always amaze me and force me to pause to enjoy their beauty. I stood for about fifteen minutes watching the colors fade and then return, listening to the birds and to the foghorns. It ended up being a really beautiful late afternoon. The double part of the rainbow lasted a long time, and as far as rainbows go, it was brilliant and deep.  I almost wanted to jump in the truck to drive down to the pier to see if I could see the very end of the rainbow, sinking into the sea. But, I didn't.
I was still; and I soaked in the view from my own yard. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Mission Accomplished

Late summer grazing

So, I may have spoken too soon. Bill's gentle disposition has shifted into one a little more similar to his dad's, which I am hoping is simply a reaction to being separated from the ewes. I initially put little Obed the wether into the new suite with his dad, but after seeing how aggressive Bill was toward the wether I ended up pulling him out and leaving Bill alone in his new quarters yesterday afternoon. Sometimes I wonder if I am really cut out for this stuff...usually in those moments when things do not go well or as smoothly as I would have liked. Hearing young sheep cry for their mothers - or ewes whining because they cannot be with their lambs when they can hear and smell them - just breaks my heart; then I crack and do what I can to make them all happy.
I remember that years ago, a beautiful Jacob ram named Zvookie was not welcomed back into his flock in New Vineyard after he'd spent a few months at my farm breeding my ewes. One of the other rams head-butted him and did some internal damage, and poor Zvookie died from his injuries. When I saw Bill butting Obed into the fencing yesterday, I was afraid that the little guy would be hurt and so taking him out of the pen with Bill was a no-brainer for me. But, seeing Bill alone is hard and makes me sad (makes him mad, though). This, too, shall pass and everyone will be back in the same pasture soon enough. Until then, I'll remind myself that sometimes it's necessary to do things we don't want to in order to achieve the results we want. And, I'll hope that I can project that understanding onto my wonderful ram.

Cue the Barry White

Bill

Cooler weather has started to creep in and the ram's suite will be finished by this afternoon. Just in the nick of time. Given what I have seen of Bill so far, I doubt he'll need any mood music. He is a great little ram who has a wonderful disposition which I am happy to see him pass on to future generations. Passing on the good genes...worthy work of rams. His son Hendricks has been well-received at the fairs so far, and the father/son shearing team - Roger Link, Sr. and Jr. - have complimented him on his lines and fleece as well. He's such a welcome change from past rams, and I am hoping to have another successful breeding season with the little guy and one or two select ewes.

Little Barn, Little Sheep

the little sheep barn

As the summer comes to an end I am considering how all ten animals will fit in their little barn over the winter. Unless a couple find new homes in the next month or so, I think that I will be keeping them at least over the winter months. It's a good thing they're small and their coats are still pretty short, otherwise it would not feel as spacious in the barn with them all in there.
I'm always amazed by how much larger the barn feels after they have their spring shearing and after it's totally mucked; it's almost as if it doubles in size when they lose their winter coats. They will have enough room to walk around and everyone has ample room for sleeping and sprawling out, so I guess it will be fine. This winter, I plan to put the hay out on the hill so they need to walk a little farther to get to it...forced exercise.
I will try to find some of the images that I have from when we built the barn about eight years ago. Magic Robbie, as I called him that summer, had built some smaller structures before this one, but the sheep barn was his first real project as I recall. He went on to be a successful geo-thermal contractor in BC and is back in town building an incredible home for his soon-to-be-wife and himself. I have only seen pictures, but it looks like a beautiful building. I love my sheep barn and enjoyed being a little part of its design and construction - the stained glass windows and Dutch door make me smile every morning and I like to think they make the little sheep happy, too.

Those Little Moments

Sometimes things happen here on the farmette - or out in the real world - that remind me how important it is to stop and take note of those seemingly little events and moments - or not-so-little events - and cherish them. Learn from them. Try to accept them and move forward a stronger and more compassionate person.
Things can change so quickly. One moment you think it's just a single lamb and the next you are holding a twin. Or, a healthy little lamb can become ill overnight - sometimes with treatable but gross maggots and sometimes with things too complicated to fix. Sheep escape and destroy a garden. These are the unexpected realities of life. At times, they are relatively minimal and easily absorbed. Other times, I find myself reeling from things over which I have no control and grappling to find some peace and understanding, with the hope of getting to acceptance.

love thy brother

I have never struggled with letting cats outdoors, probably because of the way I was raised - which was with cats always being outdoors. Killers. The better the killer, the better the cat (bar birds of course). So, when I hesitated to let Loki and Odin out last spring, it was interesting to think about why I had reservations this time around. Yes, there were the usual road and predator concerns. But, I think what was really going on was my desire to prevent death (for the cats more than for their potential prey). In the end, the cats went out; they have been out now for six months and earning their keep in the rodent population department. Loki is far more productive than Odin, and neither one seems too interested in the feathered friends (which I have stopped feeding...felt too twisted to keep it up when they went outside). They are happy and proud little animals now that they are out in the world exploring. They have attitude and a sense of worth, I think. If I had kept them in, who knows what kind of neurotic beasts I would have created.
Learning to let go, as I wrote in an earlier post, is something that the sheep have helped me to learn to do...and the cats, too.
Somedays, I am pushed to apply these learnings to life outside the Salty Ewe, and in those moments I find myself especially grateful for everyone and everything in my life.

Labor Day

The tourists are leaving, the traffic's thinning and the leaves are beginning to turn. Earl ended up missing us completely - we only had less than an inch of rain and very minimal winds. A relief, but also a little disappointment after all of the build up. We could use a heavy rain. I expect the leaf season will be short and not too spectacular given the dry summer we've had, and before long there will be a frost. The acorns started to drop like mad about three weeks ago - and, although I have not found any wooly caterpillars yet, my guess is that they're all sporting fat stripes. The old wives were right on so many counts.
The sheep have been happily grazing in the back field often the past several days. Since I have been home, it's been fun to watch them go back and forth, jumping over the creek and moving up the hill to the shade of the trees. Cooler nights now, which is wonderful for sleeping and hopefully will also start killing off some of the flies that have been omnipresent this summer. The fleeces should start to thicken up now, too.

everyone waking up and heading out for the morning graze

Am feeling like it's cool enough to pick up balls of yarn and knit some, too. Excited to send off a sample to the Hope Spinnery to see if my wool is anything he'd like to work with. It would be great to find a spinnery in Maine where I could have my wool processed and spun, so I am hopeful he will not find their fiber too fine to work with.

Fair Season

roving

some raw fleece

The fairs have started up in Maine and in and around New England, and I am hoping to be able to make it to a few this year. It's been a long time since I have gone to the Common Ground Fair, and this year I'm planning to go on a Friday to avoid some of the crowds that have kept me away in years past. I used to work at the Common Ground for Maine Times when I first moved to Maine in 1987, and back then it was still a relatively small event and held in Unity (if I remember correctly).
Nathan showed Hendricks and Tulip at the Acton Fair last weekend and apparently the judge thought they were good looking animals, especially the ram. Their fleece is still too short to be judged, but from what they could see, both sheep have good fleeces and conformation.  I'm curious how many other breeds have had slow-growing wool this summer do to the heat and humidity...thinking about Larry's Icelandics and how hot they must be right now. Their coats seem to grow fast enough to do two cuts per season. All this writing about wool is making me warmer than I already am, so that's it for now. Stay cool wherever you are, and keep an eye out for Earl all of you East Coasters.

Heat Wave=Hot Sheep

Maya and her lamb 

We're having a heat wave in Maine...first one since 1999 apparently (although all summer it felt as though we were having one in my opinion). The sheep are uncomfortable and panting up a storm, and I've kept a small fan going in their barn to provide some sort of artificial breeze for them. Keeping them hydrated with cool, fresh water and leaving one barn door closed to provide more shade is about all I can do - hoping they can regulate their body temperatures and get through today and tomorrow. If we make five days in a row over 90 degrees, it would be the first time since 1993 (when I did not have sheep).  I worry about them in this heat; hard to imagine that there will be days ahead when I keep them in the barn because it's below zero. Maine weather. They say if you don't like it to wait a minute.
With the exception of Bob in 1991, we have not had a big hurricane really hit Maine since 1978, and so everyone is watching Earl pretty closely as it heads up the coast. With the water temperature so warm this summer, the potential for the storm to slide right up into Maine is pretty good according to some weather watchers, so we'll just have to wait and see what Mother Nature has in store. I remember walking with my Dad during the hurricane in '78. He tied a big rope around his waist and then around me and off we went to walk along Goose Rocks Beach. The ocean was almost a reddish color, I remember - churning, not really waves. It was wild, and I remember feeling so excited to be doing something so dangerous...walking in a hurricane.  I loved it, and it's a memory that comes back to me often and always brings with it the same feelings of nostalgia and adventure.

Hot Hazy Days

sheep in the back field...shady grove and yummy grass

The sheep are jumping over the creek again to graze up in the back field, finding shade and great grasses to cool and fill them. The heat continues, which is rare for Maine. We're going to break 90 again today and probably again tomorrow. Their fleeces are not growing in too quickly in this weather - who can blame them? It's still too hot for me to think about knitting - which just involves handling a little wool...not wearing it! Eager to get Bill and Obed into their gentlemen's suite and hopefully have some very controlled breeding this year. Soon enough, we'll have cool mornings and frost on the pumpkins. And, sheep eager to breed.

May Lambs

A perfect late August morning. I can hear the surf from the deck this morning - so quiet save the chirping of hundreds of birds. I love these mornings. Second cup of joe and dog at my feet. 'I wonder what the poor people are doing today' is a line I hear during moments like these...echoed through generations, I think. We could be sitting as a family just about anywhere, and my dad would share this question. It's taken me nearly my whole life to date to really figure that one out. So. Here I sit, feeling pretty lucky. Getting ready to rig up the pen for Bill and Obed the wether...it's that time of the year, and I have to separate the ram before it's too late. This picture is of another kind of 'too late' - my May Lamb #1. She arrived while I was in NYC for Caleb's graduation, and Jed took control with the assistance of Jess. In this great photo (also from Jess!), Jed is probably grinning ear to ear behind that little head - taken when the lamb was just several hours old. After some harsh lessons on why not to have lambs in May, I will be sure to separate the ram again from all ewes after Thanksgiving.
She's a beautiful little lamb and while I would love to keep her, she is ready to go to a new home, preferably with her sister...also black and wicked cute (and born the following morning while I was still in NYC).  I'm hoping that after this weekend's Acton Fair and the article that Nate arranged in the Tribune, I may have some buyers. It's exciting to know that more people are becoming exposed to the breed through all of Nate's work at the fairs and with 4-H. I am really happy that I gifted Hendricks and Tulip to him.
I'd like to start breeding more deliberately, so I'm going to be looking for new homes for next year's lambs soon. Think I'll write to all of the vineyards in New England. They make good little mowers in vineyards and could see some bartering potential there.

Wooly Beasts

How quickly the wool will grow once we get cooler weather!

This is another great photo that Jessica shared with me - taken the week before they were shorn  this spring. That's Tulip behind her Mom, Bella in the foreground. Bill is to her right. Bella and the twins from 2009 are up in front. 

Salty Ewe Knit Lids

The Wagner Women!

Last Christmas, my good friend and reliable, stand-in shepherd Jed was really kind and bought a dozen of my hats to give as gifts. I love that every year he tries to support local people in his shopping, and I was so thankful to have his holiday business last year. This photo was shared with me by his significant other, Jessica. He gave her a hat made from my old Jacobs, dyed naturally with plants, and Rollie's beautiful brown. He knew and cared for my Jacobs and so he wanted Jessica to have a hat that was made from all of the sheep at the Salty Ewe. Her sister and mom received hats that are 100% babydoll - the sisters' hats are knit from Callie's gorgeous oatmeal wool, some dyed with cherry kool-aid, and her mom was given one that was knit from Bella and Callie. It's a beautiful picture, and I love that they modeled them so perfectly for this shot...the winter wonderland in the background frames their happy faces with more natural beauty. And, don't they look warm in their Salty Ewe Knit Lids? Many people who have sensitivity to wool have found the babydoll to be much more comfortable than more common wool fibers, which is an added bonus to these amazing little sheep. I never find myself pulling off my hat to itch my forehead when I wear mine, which is something that happens often when I wear wool hats. So, thanks so much to Jed and Jessica, and to her beautiful family, for sharing this shot. Going to start knitting the 2010 series as soon as we start having more fall like weather...tough to do it when it's 85 and sunny! Working on getting them into a shop in Kennebunkport but will have them available online if that does not work out. Will keep you posted. It's going to be hat season again soon enough!