Aztec and Rue

Lambing season was quick and relatively uneventful, and we now have two new lambs here at the farmette! It took a while to settle on names, but they're going to be called Aztec and Rue.

The first born was Rue, and she was Rita's first lamb. She came early in the morning, quietly and just minutes before I got down to the barn to let everyone out for the day. I have never seen another lamb like this one; she is incredibly friendly and has a tremendous amount of strength and energy already. Hercules is probably a huge part of this lovely little disposition...and, while she does not have any spots, her fleece is already fluffing up and feeling soft.

Maya's little ram lamb, Aztec, arrived in the middle of the night on April 12 - a week after the first lamb (shepherd's nirvana again!). And, unlike Rita's easy lambing, the painful sounds coming up from the barn, from Maya, woke me and kept me up for a good part of the night. She had a difficult time and the ram lamb has been slow to gain strength and energy, so the past several days have been somewhat challenging as we deal with record breaking heat in Maine - new lambs can become dehydrated quickly, and while the worst seems to be over and little Aztec seems to be gaining weight, it's good to be home from the day job this week to keep a close eye on him.

Hercules and the wether have joined the girls in the big field, and things are starting to green up quickly. We are in desperate need of rain, and the forecast finally has some predicted for this weekend. Before we know it, the hay will start coming in and gardens will be planted. Even though it was a quick and easy winter here, the feeling of Spring is still intoxicating. Cheers to the season!

April!

Henry!

The first day of April always feels like Spring, even though last year we were having a blizzard and lost power for hours. It was my first full day with Henry, and I remember feeling thankful to have the day off from school to stay home with the new puppy. He's still so much a puppy a year later. Hopeful that the destructive side will wear off with age...

Maya and Rita, the two ewes who spent a couple of months with Hercules last fall, are looking round and getting closer to lambing. Both have good sized udders coming in and have started to lay around more than usual, often times in the barn alone while the rest of the sheep are outside (beginning to graze, which is crazy at this time of the year). It will be exciting to have spotted sheep here at the Salty Ewe again, after starting with the Jacobs over ten years ago now. And, if they're anywhere as adorable as the spotted babydoll lambs that I have seen from Kelly's Romney Ridge Farm, we're in for a treat here on the farmette. I can't wait. They are, after all, the real sign of spring.

A younger Hercules. He still relaxes in this position!

In Like a Lion

The Shepherdess from Salty Ewe apologizes for the lapse in entries since the New Year. Life on and off the farmette has been busy has fulfilling, beyond expectations in many ways. Hercules has brought all kinds of good energy to us - his quiet and calm disposition is a welcome addition to the barn - and, we are eagerly awaiting the arrival of lambs within the next six weeks or so.

The winter has been mild and with minimal snows. Our first real snow storm since winter, really, arrived this past week on March 1; we got over a foot here along the coast. The sheep stayed in all day, which is not ideal. Today, it's rainy and sleeting, with intermittent snow. A very grey day. Barn doors are open but they're choosing to stay in from what I can see so far.

Hercules as a lamb!

The anticipation of warmer days that will allow time in the garden, from early morning hours to late in the afternoon (until the mosquitos ascend) is building, and days like today add to that anxiousness. The garlic will pop first, and given the lack of cold temperatures and deep snow pack, I imagine that may happen sooner than later. Curious whether the mild winter will affect the harvest. Time will tell.

Such is the mantra of life. Time does tell. Stories unfold and life marches on, sometimes with unexpected twists that bring unspeakable joy - and sometimes deep pain. The delicate balance. Time telling truths. We wait for lambs and new life to grace our lives.

2012!

The Salty Ewe Shepherdess has been out of the writing mode of late and hopes that everyone has enjoyed the holiday season and that 2012 is off to a banner start. The sheep are all doing great and still able to 'graze' since we still have no snow in Maine. Unheard of.

Lori's great photography - Winter Sheep

Hercules has adjusted beautifully and brought all kinds of good energy to the farmette. He is gentle and inquisitive, and he's got a unique little personality that I get to see on occasion. The girls are all well and looking a little chubby, which I would rather have over bony. Their fleeces have started to thicken up, and tonight's forecast of zero degree temperatures will certainly aid in the production of more wool I think. It's been so nice not to have the heated water buckets plugged in for so long - and to be able to see the sheep moving freely aver their pasture instead of snow-locked into the areas that I clear for them in the deep snow. Having said that, we're ready for snow in New England.
Happy New Year to everyone. Wishing you the best in the coming year and thanks for reading the Salty Ewe's blog - even when weeks pass without a post.

Firsts

We did break the record for the warmest November in history, and December's started out with incredible weather as well and virtually no precipitation, and this morning I heard songbirds that should probably have flown south weeks and weeks ago. The sea smoke will definitely be appearing soon if this weather continues, as the ocean's temperature is quickly dropping and is close to 50 degrees now.

The fog was thick and hung low in the field this morning as Henry and I walked down the lane, and the sunrise was idyllic; hot pink underbellies of clouds lined the horizon, and the sky slowly lightened as the sun crept close and closer to rising. My favorite kind of sky. The moon was still up and sat high in the sky when we headed out at 6, and by the time we got home about thirty minutes later, the sun was fully up and moon had disappeared from view. We're still losing daylight but only have another two weeks or so; the winter solstice will bring the turn we all so look forward to in New England.

Hercules and the lucky ewes

Hercules continues to amaze and impress me; he's a gentle little guy with a wonderful disposition, and the two ewes that are in with him for a few more weeks are content and in all reality pregnant, too. He is inquisitive and calm, and if his offspring have half of his positive traits along with some of those beautiful markings, I suspect it will not be a problem finding new homes for them. Ideally, it would be perfect to have half the sheep on the pasture as I have now, so hopefully the market for Babydoll Sheep will pick up in the spring of 2012.

Foggy and Fair

The air this morning felt more like spring than fall. The light was incredible, and probably impossible to ever capture in an image. The sky was dimly light and a thick fog was settled over everything, with a deeper haze down in the lowest part of the field where the water runs through it. The silhouettes of the bare trees were striking against the milky sky, especially the old chestnut tree on the hill at the old Emerson place. The air was marked by strong skunk smells, which is another springtime smell - not so much in fall. It was a beautiful way to start the day. Again. When the sun finally did peek above the horizon, the streaks of pink fog that shone through the breaks in the shadows from the trees were spectacular.
We're close to breaking the record in Maine for the warmest November in history, and while there are definite downsides to this warmth (more germs and less wool) the positives are definitely winning out - with number one the quiet furnace followed immediately by fewer plowing bills.  Of course, there's a flip side to this, as there is to everything - the doctors who are treating all these viruses probably find the increase in germs a good thing in their world, and my friends who plow are none too pleased. I think the majority of people are happy however...
I saw a wooly bear caterpillar the other morning, and its brown band around the middle was pretty wide; folklore suggests that this is a sign of a mild winter ahead. Who knows? Unlike last year, the leaves are raked and composted and deck furniture is all stored before the first real snow. This slow ease into winter has been helpful in terms of preparing, so when one of these mornings the air smacks me in the face as we head out for our ritual morning walk to the ocean, I should be ready.

Wool Growing Weather

Hercules.

happy sheep 

Maya

                                             The month of November has been really balmy by Maine standards. We're having some weather today, and right along the coast it looks like it's going to be all rain. Inland, they're getting close to a foot in many areas. While this kind of warm autumn weather is great for the furnace, it's not so great for fleece growing. The sheep have responded to the hot, hot summer and mild fall by not growing very much wool on their little bodies; can you blame them?
                            Hercules has settled in beautifully, and the delivery of Bill to his new home at Shearbrooke Farm with Karen went really smoothly as well.
Reports from there are that he's adjusted well and is scoping out all of the ewes from his pen, which is shared with a funny male llama. In an adjacent pen are three more llamas - with a variety of chickens and hens running around, in and out of all the pens. It's a very beautiful spot and he'll be well cared for and loved there, so it was easy to say goodbye to the little guy.
Well, pretty easy.
Knitting away and good to have orders in the wings - for this and so much more I am deeply thankful.