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.