Sheep Talk: Composting

It seems that Mother Nature has flipped her calendar, realized it's now October, and said, "Time to drop the temps by fifteen degrees!"  The days are notably cooler here in Wisconsin, and the nights are down-right nippy.  The Little Rancher is bundling up in her winter jacket for morning chores.  I prefer to wait until the sunshine has taken the chill off a bit before heading out for my chores.  The chickens will have to do with brunch these days instead of breakfast.

bucket of treats

As with every year, it's also time to start cleaning out the garden.   Time to round up the last tomatoes, find the giant cukes that got away from you, and keep a close eye on the growing squash.  While many of these vegetable plants can now be weeded out of your garden, take a few minutes to think about which of your barnyard animals can benefit.  Everyone immediately thinks of feeding their old veggies to the pigs.  Pigs have a fabulous composting reputation that's been in place for centuries and, quite frankly, is one of their biggest selling points.  That and bacon.  However, chickens follow a close second for composting.  They love tomatoes and zucchini, peppers and overripe watermelon.  If you toss them anything red or seeded, they'll love you forever.  I suppose goats do pretty well in this department, too, but I've not had any personal experience with them.  To be quite honest, I'm a total snob and have no intention of ever raising goats, feeling that sheep are far superior.  Besides, don't goats just butt things and eat tin cans?

Derby: In Memoriam

Two Winters ago one of my favorite rams passed away.  Derby.  He was born on our farm in 2004, sweet and gentle from Day One.  As he aged, his disposition never changed.  He was top ram for a couple of years when youth and testosterone were on his side, but slipped from power pretty quickly because he just wasn't a fighter.  He is the only ram we've ever had that never, never, lowered his head to me.  I was perfectly comfortable, never hesitated in fact, to break that Cardinal Rule and turn my back to him while in the pasture.  Aside from his remarkable demeanor, Derby was, and still is, the only sheep we've had who has shed his wool.  Each Spring, I would wait for his fleece to loosen and lift off the skin.  He would stand stock still for me while I pulled off, handful by handful, his gorgeous chocolate brown wool.  When he died late one evening, the other rams stood vigil.  My husband found them and remarked how it was chilling to find Derby on the ground while the three other rams stood quietly with their heads resting on his lifeless body.  Being the middle of Winter and befitting a Shetland ram who has equally strong Scandinavian as well as Scottish heritage, we built a large bonfire from a shed that had been torn down and sent Derby off in glory.  His soft nose, nuzzling into my hand, and his calming presence are sorely missed around the pasture.

So I decided to honor his memory the best way I know how,

with my needle and thread. 

Sheep Talk

It seems like quite a long time since I stopped to talk sheep with y'all.  Way back in Spring I hurriedly posted some lamb photos, but the sheep are so self-sufficient all Summer that...hold on...I don't think I ever posted lamb photos this Spring!!  What kind of shoddy shepherdess am I?!  There are a few cute lamb videos on my facebook page, but I think a few introductions are in order.

This is Smudge and her ewe lamb, Bobble, so named because she has a silly wobble to her head when she runs.

And we christened him, Melvin

Oh my!  It's been nearly a week already since Melvin was born, and I totally forgot to post pics! I did get these up on my facebook page because we all know that nothing happens until you post it on fb (sad commentary on our world today).  But then I selfishly skipped my way back out to the barn and plopped down in the hay to spend hours enjoying this little guy.  

Derby Jr is born

We had our first lamb on Sunday!  Typical scenario for our farm...go out to do chores and there's one extra mouth to feed.  This is Flopsy's first year as a mother, and she did splendidly.  I was not expecting lambs this early, but I should have known; first-time mothers tend to deliver sooner rather than later.  We promptly moved the pair indoors as we're in the middle of a week-long rainstorm (not to mention 45 degree temps and a steady wind).  Mama and baby are doing just fine.

Little Lamb is a spitting image of his daddy, Derby.  Sadly Derby passed away this winter from natural causes.  He was truly the gentlest ram I've ever seen, and he shed his wool each Spring.  He would stand quietly for me while I pulled handful after handful from his back and belly, the most beautiful chocolate brown wool.  I wonder if Junior here will be the same.


Now that Spring has sprung, so to speak, I'm anxiously trotting out to the barn several times a day to check our other ewe, another first-timer.  More lamby photos to come!

Love Shack: No Vacancy

If you see a faded sign at the side of the road that says, "15 miles to the Love Shack..."

...then you'll know you're headed in the right direction.  The love shack is a little old place where we can get together.  Well, it's set way back in the middle of a field.  Just a funky old shack...

...and the whole shack shimmies when every sheep's moving around and around and around.

Spring Shearing for Sale

If you can't buy the sheep, you can still own the fleece!  Our "Spring" shearing is finally complete (although it dragged into Summer a bit due to the wet season we've had in Wisconsin this year).  I'm proud to say that Hank whirled through 17 sheep with nary a nick!  The sheep are happily out in fresh pastures with fresh, new coats.  And that leaves me with a bit of a storage issue.  I already have a healthy supply of lambswool (which I don't sell) and a huge batch of roving expected back from the mill any day now.  So, my friends, that means this year's wool needs to find a new home. 

So have we any spinners in the audience?  Felters?  Weavers?  Here's your chance!

All fleeces are raw.  They have been heavily skirted and given a once over.  That means no manure, no matted tags, no briars, no cornstalks, no barbed wire.  They will still require a a second picking for fluffing and to remove minor vegetable matter.  All fleeces include britch wool.  Most include neck wool (unless it was too full of hay).  Fiber length is approximately 4-5 inches on average.  Most fleeces are double-coated and wavy, not excessively crimpy.  I do not coat the sheep so all fleeces have sun-fade.  Several fleeces are heathered, meaning they have a grey flecking throughout even if the fleece appears brown or ivory.  You will see second cuts as Hank is not a professional shearer.  Raw weight is approximately 3-4 pounds resulting in 2-3 pounds washed.  Fleeces are $15 each plus shipping.  

Buttercup - very dark brown, almost black

Shetland Rams for Sale

It's time to scale back the flock a little, and unfortunately that means a few of my sheep need to find new, happy homes.  Could it be at your farm?

Sheepy Hollow Dexter (shown at far right), NASSA # S27655, born 4-9-2008, white/flecket. Used as breeding ram for several years, offspring on-site. $75

Yearling black ram (shown at far left). Both parents on-site. Great conformation and horn growth. Sired by Dexter (above) and Sheepy Hollow Buttercup, NASSA # S22623. Born May 2012. Currently unregistered - $50. Can be registered at time of sale - $75.

And the cutey in the middle with the white nose is staying.  Sorry!  Shadow is so docile and mild-mannered, I can't bear to part with him.

Under a layer of ice

The entire barnyard was literally creaking this morning.  The cows were bellering.  The geese honking, and the sheep were skeetering around, trying to understand why the ground beneath them was shattering with every step.

Last night we had lightening and thunder.  Rain ushered in by driving winds eventually turned to sleet.  Northern Wisconsin, along with several other states, were also hit with measurable snowfall on top of this ice.  Thank God we were at least spared that!  The weatherman predicts that it will melt off today, but warns that we should brace ourselves for a second round again tonight.  *sigh*   Oh, Spring, where are you?

the old horse-drawn hayrack inside the ewe's pasture

latch on the dog kennel

The Shadow Knows

Shadow, photo taken this summer

Born last spring, I'd like to introduce Shadow.  As of this morning, he is the youngest escape artist in residence at the Homestead.

Halfway through my morning chores, I noticed small tracks in the snow that were the same size as, but definitely not belonging to, the cat.  They trailed along the fence, past the cows' paddock, past the chicken coop and in several circles near a round bale that sits just outside the rams' shed.  Bosley seemed very interested in them which was my other clue that they were unusual.  As soon as it registered that they were sheep tracks, I looked up to see Shadow standing just outside his pasture.

The first thought that runs through your head is, "Is he the only one?"  Because of course you immediately assume that there is a gaping hole, the size of a tractor, somewhere in the fence.  With woven wire split and bent in every direction, all the sheep are simply streaming out into the great wide open, headed in every direction, making any possible round-up attempt a living nightmare.

The second thought is, "Animals can smell fear."  No sudden movements.  No loud noises.  I set down the bucket of water I had been holding and promptly locked Bosley in the chicken coop because it was closer than his kennel.  To be clear he was not in with the chickens, but rather in the storage side of the coop, presumably enjoying his time eating feathers and sawdust because that's what dogs like to nibble on when they don't have access to manure.

God Made a Farmer

How badly do we miss Paul Harvey? 

And how proud are all the homesteads across the country this morning?

God Bless the Farmers.

Hi-ho! Hi-ho! Off to the Mill I go!

yes, that's a black metal bed frame on the right...

This year's shearing was officially wrapped up on June 27th, but the fleeces sat around on my side porch for the duration of the Summer.  Embarrassing, really, but when one major job is finished around here, it seems there are three more urgently waiting.  This was something that I always meant to get back to.  And now that Winter is knocking at the door, we need to clean off the side porch and get it stacked with wood.

Each bag is one fleece (one sheep's worth).  Raw weight (which includes all the dirt and lanolin) is approximately 2-3 pounds per fleece.  Washing out the dirt lightens the fleece by a half pound.  And if I had to guess, I'd say one fleece will spin up into about 800 yards of two-ply, sweater weight yarn.

Since the weather was mild last week, I set up the skirting table outside and got to it.  My husband built me a large frame from 1x3s covered in mesh, similar to a screen door, that I can prop up on chairs (and bucket).  I lay a fleece on the screen and pick out all the bits of hay.  All the rubbish ends up on the ground.  I could make another whole sheep with all that rubbish!

Technically what I'm doing here is called "skirting."  Skirting is the process of removing the wool from around the entire outer edge.  This outer edge is the wool from the shoulders, belly and rump, and is typically the dirtiest.  After skirting through all those fleeces, I got a pretty good feel for the quality of my flock.   It became obvious which sheep had the longest fleece (Abner), which was starting to have a poorer quality fleece due to age (Knight and Mammy), and which one had the best coloring (Gretl's is gorgeous!).  Lambswool is the first fleece taken off a young sheep.  On our farm, sheep are sheared for the first time at one year of age.  These fleeces are very long and much softer than adult fleeces.

One positive side effect to having your hands buried in fleece all day is a good working in of lanolin (and dirt) which left my hands fairly soft.  The next step is taking all this to the mill to have it washed and carded so I can get some yarn spun.  The winter months are the perfect time to sit by the woodstove in the evenings, spinning and contemplating my next knitting project.  And I need to make a serious dent in all this wool because the next shearing is only six months away.  Hopefully we'll have the wood cleared off the porch by then so we can fill it up with wool again!

2000 Sheep in Downtown Madrid

yahoo news

This morning all eyes in the United States are watching the superstorm, Sandy, hitting the East Coast.  But I wanted to bring to your attention another human interest story that may not have gotten on your local channels. 

Yesterday over 2000 Merino sheep were herded through the streets of Madrid, Spain.  Apparently this happens every year as a reminder to the city officials that they are planning their urban sprawl directly on top of ancient droving routes. 

yahoo news

Close to one million animals each year, mostly sheep and cattle, are moved over 78,000 miles between winter and summer pastures in Spain.  This is a tradition dating back hundreds of years, and no one is taking it for granted.

yahoo news

Each year in late October, the streets are blocked off.  The shepherds bring a small flock to town, and the sheep muddle their way through the 21st century.  Known as the Transhumance Festival, it is a major event in Madrid.   It's not so much a protest as a celebration of the rural farmer and his labors.  But it's also a case of "use it or lose it."

yahoo news

It is a passive reminder of who was here first, and on what their country is founded.   By 1000 A.D. both England and Spain were regarded as the premier wool centers of the world.  Spain had a virtual monopoly on Merino sheep, developing the breed for a fine and soft fleece.  From this wealthy industry, exploration to the New World was founded, and Spain's strong hand reached across the globe (source).

yahoo news

But as with every industry, shepherds are modernizing their practices to meet demand and keep costs low.  It must be every shepherds' dream to sit idly by, watching their sheep graze on the hillside, but ever-increasing flock sizes and dwindling man-power make this more impractical.  And in the face of that reality, I raise my crook to the shepherds of Spain who are keeping this tradition alive.  Goodness knows, I'd never trust my Shetlands to traverse one city block without breaking down into complete ovine panic!

Shearing is done!

I'll start with the last photo we took...this is a very happy me, thankful that a successful shearing is behind us for one more year.  And believe me when I tell you that my husband, Hank, is grinning even larger behind the camera.

This is how the day started.  I love watching the fleece "peel" off the sheep with each stroke of the cutters.  Hank would interrupt at this point and emphasize that the fleece by no means just "peels" that easy.  Shearing is a hard-earned skill.  The sheep must be seated in a more or less comfortable position, otherwise they're kicking and twisting to get free.  The yearlings who've never been shorn before, kick and twist no matter how they're sitting.  Most sheep don't like the shears up near their faces or other delicate areas which leads to more kicking.  Their skin is constantly twitching with each touch of the hand or shears.  Rams like to jab their horns into Hank's thighs, leaving a scattering of bruises.  Some of our older sheep are getting bony and those jutting hip bones don't lend themselves to long, clean strokes with the shears.  Armpits are especially tricky where the skin is thin and stretches without anything behind to support it.  Shearing is indeed an art.  I'm proud to say that Hank got through our flock of fifteen sheep with only one superficial nick.  Last year I posted several photos on the whole process from start to finish.  You can check those out here, if you'd like.

 Once the girls are done and turned out into a fresh pasture, it appears we have a flock of goats.

Everyone looks so clean.  Now you can see the spots and markings

 that get lost in the inches of wool. And I'm reminded how many of our sheep have darker bellies and legs.

In the foreground of this photo is one of our mothers and her two black ram lambs.  Mothers and lambs always go through an adjustment period when the little ones need to get used to their mother's new look.  There is lots of crying and smelling of behinds before the family settles down again. 

And after a while, they forget the ordeal of the day and come back around for a little petting.  The weather is heating up again here, so we finished just in time.  Next up on the list is to run more fence line for the cows. 
Those guys are eating us out of house and home!

Linked up to Farm Girl Friday Blog Hop.

BoPeep Collectibles

As my 'BoPeep' identity has taken shape over the past years, I'm always on the look-out for sheep-related items.  I'm especially interested in vintage pieces (shocking, I know) and tend to avoid the primitive, folk-art sheep.  No offense to those of you who collect primitives.  I've seen a lot of tempting ones, but it's just not my style.  Here are a few of my favorites...

One of the first pieces I got was the 1960s MIRRO mold from my mother.  Every Easter I bake up the most delicious Yoda cake you've ever seen!  I'm not so great with detailed frosting, and all the features sort of disappear under that layer of buttercream.

I purchased this 1916 sheet music off etsy a couple of years back.  It's framed and hanging by my 1922 piano.  The same piano that is putting way too much stress on the ole floor joists, and who's favorite song is 'Chopsticks,' plunked out by my kids.

While this next one is technically a Little Boy Blue print, I had to make an exception.  It's a 1947 advertisement for Life Bras by Formfit.  The poem reads,

Little Boy Blue,
Awake from your sleep.
The girl of your dreams
is bewitching your sheep.

How does she do it?
That's plain to see;
It's the glamour she gets
from her Life Bras three.

From morn, 'til night,
At work, at play,
Be a dream girl too
The Formfit way.

At a local rummage sale, I found this sweet little lamb mold.  He's only 5x7 and looks great hanging above my stove.

Yet another etsy purchase was a cover from an early '40s notebook.  It is an appointment book, printed by Brown and Bigelow, for a rubber company out of Missouri.  Fun fact: SNAFU and FUBAR were terms coined during the Second World War.  And we think we're so smart these days?!

I also seem to have a growing stand-alone collection of BoPeep Ammonia bottles.  I purchased one of the glass ones and received the other two from friends. Now, of course, I'm on the look out for other versions.

And some of you may have seen these before - my peek-a-boo pin-up towels.  I've made a few different versions for friends, and it was only a matter of time before I made a BoPeep one!  I used pink scraps from a dress I made last summer.  She's hanging above my stove, too.

I also have a few of the standard fare prints, shepherd girls out in the pasture, that sort of thing.  A small stuffed Lambchop (from the famous Shari Lewis duo) sits on a shelf in my sewing room.  I typically rescue orphaned lamb figurines from disbanded Nativity sets and tuck them about.  My collection is not overpowering.  It's a subtle reminder that there is a flock of sheep, just outside my door, that are always ready for a little ear-scratching.

Striker and ZoomZoom

Yes, we named them.  And every farmer knows what that means.  Emotional attachment.  It's a gamble to name a ram lamb that is only one week old.  I typically like to wait a full year to assess their horns before making a definite decision.  Fatal horns that grow towards the head automatically means butcher lamb.  But I found myself referring to this little guy as "Eye Patches" or just "Patches" and that name wouldn't suit me long term. I decided on Striker because he has a white tip on his tail that reminded me of matches.

Striker and his mama, Smudge, are doing great.  For a first time mother, her instincts kicked in immediately (LOVE Shetlands!!).  It only took one confrontation with the geese for them to realize that her lamb was off limits. She rushed the three adults - twice in quick cessation - when they starting hissing at Striker.

If the tail's a waggin', the milk is flowin'!

But if you plan to stay a while, you might as well get comfortable.

The other lamb was born a few days later.  Hank named him ZoomZoom. 

His mother, Ginger, has done this before.  Her instincts are just as strong, but she's not quite as anxious as Smudge.  New moms tend to dance around a lot, constantly checking their lambs.  Ginger just stares you down.

I've found that ram lambs are typically more curious and braver than ewe lambs.  They get comfortable with people a lot quicker.  This early bond is very gratifying, but once they get older - and their horns are larger - you need to establish clear boundaries and teach them who is in charge.  A fifteen pound lamb butting your leg is cute.  Not so cute when they're sixty pounds and butting your thigh.

But for the next couple of months, it's all fun and games.  Striker and ZoomZoom are already becoming friends and testing the thickness of their skulls.  I'm waiting for one more ewe to lamb out.  She's so wide; I feel sorry for her!  I expect twins from her so I'll keep you posted!

Weekend Update

Lambing has begun!  Our first lamb was born Friday evening.  Smudge, the mother, did beautifully for her first time.  She had a nice, big ram lamb with eye patches.  He's not even 48 hours old, and already he's sproinging around the pen!  Unfortunately we had rain all weekend (and most of last week) so the pasture is quite waterlogged.  As soon as the sun reappears, I'll let Smudge and her lamb out.

Once we got the excitement in the barn settled down, we ran between the raindrops to church for our daughter's First Communion.  This is a photo of my mother, myself and my daughter.  She was just the right size to wear my First Communion dress that my mother made for me *cough* many years ago.  For you sewers out there, it is Swiss Dot layered over cotton, if that gives you an idea of the vintage.  Her crown is my mother's wedding crown.  Both my sister and I wore it for our First Communions, and I wore it for my wedding.  The veil has been redone for each occasion, longer for the brides and shorter for the little girls.  I'm so glad that my mother believes in family heirlooms.  We have several pieces (clothing, jewelry, furniture) that have been passed down over the years.  I love the sense of tradition and the feeling of being connected through the generations.

I hope you all had wonderful weekends.  I'm headed back out to the barn.  Two more mothers to lamb yet!

Apron Challenge: April

Phew!  I got this month's apron done just in time!  Hank and I have been busy in the barn getting ready for lambing which should happen any day now.  The old indoor pen needed a little tlc.  We scraped off the layers of compacted poo so we could see the concrete again, replaced some hodge podge boards and gave the whole pen two coats of paint.

Glad that job only happens once a year!

But once we were satisfied that our lambs would be well-housed whenever they choose to arrive, I was back in the sewing room.  This month I dug out some 1930s reproduction fabric and a few Aunt Martha iron-on transfers. 

With Easter Sunday in a few days, I needed this apron for my impending whirlwind of baking (that's sarcasm, by the way).  Hank will grill out a leg of lamb, and I'll be in the kitchen frosting my lamb cake.  I have an adorable Mirro 3D mold from the 1960s.  After frosting, it usually ends up looking like Yoda, but it's an Easter tradition now so what are ya gonna do?  And of course, coloring eggs and setting out baskets is on the weekend To Do list as well.  But back to the apron...

...one little lamb is sproinging...

...and the other is sproinged out and contemplating the nutritional value of tulips.

I lined the pockets with the same rust fabric and had just enough left over to piece together a ruffle for the bottom hem.  I was inspired by some of the aprons posted in our photobucket album and decided to do pleats instead of gathers.  Thank you to everyone who has shared their aprons!  If you haven't yet, make sure to check out all the gorgeous creations from the past months!   I also added small pleats at the waistband, instead of gathering on the apron, for a smoother look.  And no respectable Depression apron would be complete without rick rack.

So in between the barn chores and the egg decorating, be sure to stop and enjoy your family and all the blessings of the Spring season.  I wish you all a very Happy Easter!

Monday Morning Update:  Since originally posting this on Friday, I'm happy to report that this apron got a full two days use over the weekend.  It has a nice stain from making butter frosting, two stains from my afternoon cup of coffee and a healthy dose of cow slobber in the lower corner.  Unlike some of my monthly apron creations, I think this one's a keeper!