Beetle Battle

There will be no visual for this morning's chore - removing a gazillion japanese beetles from the rosa rugosa in front of the house; they appeared seemingly overnight and have done a decent amount of damage. Who knows? Maybe they were all out celebrating Japan's win in the World Cup and decided to land in my yard to party and liked it so much they stuck around. I also managed to catch a number of destructive beetles mating down on the squash and zucchini plants and they all met their end this morning as well. Oh well. Since I refuse to use the pesticides, it's hand killing only here at the Salty Ewe. I'm planning to try some neem oil and garlic sprays on some of the vegetable plants that have been attracting beetles which will hopefully help, too.

The Queen Anne's lace is in full bloom along Obed Lane, and so later on I will wander along the lane and pick as much as I can for a dye bath. A lot of clover out now, too, and so I'll probably pick a bunch of that as well. I gathered a huge bunch of some roadside weed whose name escapes me, but I remember using it at the Shearebrooke workshops and it created a nice color. Now that the Salty Ewe has a real studio space in which to play with wool, it's more fun than work getting a dye pot together. I've set up two hot plates near an open window - one a double burner - and the collection of small pots, strainers, screens, spoons and small stash of plants to experiment with make it feel like a real fiber studio. Looking out onto the field and seeing everyone grazing is just about the icing on the proverbial cake.

New view from back deck. Loving it.

The view from the house and back deck has changed incredibly since Steve Bryant took down some huge tree limbs for me. Several needed to come down - widowmakers - but a few others I asked to be trimmed so that the view, the air and the light would improve; all three have happened. The birds still have their trees - just a little higher limbs on which to perch and nest now. I bet they may even have an ocean view from the tippy top of that old oak tree.

Summah Time

The days have been flying by, with some way more productive than others around the farmette. Sheep are all well but not enjoying the recent heat and humidity here. Bill mowed the field the other day, and so they are busy picking through the cut weeds to find morsels they will eat; the pasture is definitely not large enough to support a flock this size for too long.

Taken by Lori on a recent visit

The job of skirting the ten fleeces is finally done - definitely not one of my favorite events, but always an event. I rigged up a small table (which was really not tall enough, but now I know for next year!) and worked on the colored fleeces first, took a break and then got into the whites. I tossed Callie's entirely as it was just too full of veggie matter (pieces of hay and grass) and was very, very short. This has happened before with ewes that were carrying twins from what I remember, so maybe she put all her nutrients and energy into growing those beautiful lambs rather than into her wool. I am going to pick out two or three of the best fleeces and enter them into the Common Ground Fair's Fleece Competition this year and may end up selling some at the sale, too. It's exciting and fun to be doing more with their wool for sure.

Skirting on the side lawn

July.

It's been a little weird not posting anything for nearly three weeks; I guess this means that the blogging, which I started a year ago this month, has really become an activity that brings some degree of satisfaction. Who'd have thunk it. Sitting here in the quiet early morning sun, sheep munching away and Henry sleeping at my feet, it dawns on me that it's maybe not the actual blogging that brings me the reward but the process of getting into the place where I can actually sit down and be quiet enough to write. To think enough to write something that may actually mean something and sort of sound good. When that quiet is elusive, which it can easily become in a fast-paced world and sometimes demanding life, the writing becomes nearly impossible. Something to think about today as I weed the garlic bed.

baby spiders in a pickle jar.

I have been watching a thousand little spiders hatch and slowly move around inside an upside down pickle jar on my porch. I'd gotten a few of the wholesale sized jars from a friend who owns a great cafe in town for the purpose of making sun tea, and one empty jar apparently provided a perfect spot for a spider to lay its eggs. After watching them for a few days, yesterday I moved the jar down to the garden and put it on its side with the hope that the spiders would figure out how to crawl out of their glass house.
No one I know, not even baby spiders, should be living in glass houses.