Goodbye Friends

Randy and Doug, his dad, just left to go back to Preston. Randy was my student during my first and second years at BOCES. We've had a terrific relationship ever since. He really helped me a great deal today. Tommy Boy and Miss Mamie are taken care of, a few of the intact goats are gone, along with a couple of wethers. They were huge and kept pushing the moms and little ones away from the hay. I'll miss their wool, but I have too many sheep going into the winter. There is a quality of life issue to consider - theirs and ours. Miss Mamie was heroically making her way out of the upper hay mow, down a muddy slope, and out to the field to graze, then back into the hay mow at night where I would bring her water and grain. Some varmint (or sheep) had chewed on her ear, and I don't think she was able to fend them off. She was skin and bones. All last winter I kept her in a pen in the barn so I could feed and hay her undisturbed. The chickens roosted on an old milk machine bar on top of her and covered her with dung. She didn't seem to mind as long as I kept up the grain. I knew she would freeze this winter with even less meat on her bones. Tommy Boy was not showing any signs of getting up, and I couldn't stand to see him struggling to move his back legs around any longer. I would want the same for myself. He would look at me longingly with those big blue eyes, like what's happened to me? I have good bit of meat for the cats and dogs now. I don't eat lamb or mutton, even though I would like to try. I had lamb chili at Fingerlakes, thinking the lamb would be disguised in the sauce and spices, but I still tasted it and no good. I know I ate lamb chops years ago, but I didn't have sheep then. As a kid I had to eat my rabbits. I'll never forget opening the door to my garage and seeing all the little heads spread out on newspaper. My father had no problem killing animals. He was a Swedish guy who grew up in Brooklyn, but oh, he had some kind of blood lust. And there they were, on a platter put in front of me, and they tasted so good, but I'm sure I was ravenous. Now I have a choice. When Jim B. gets the wool off my five intact ram lambs Randy will come back to do them for me. I should try to eat them - we'll see. Maybe I can make a lamb stew loaded with wine and curry. I tried to eat a rabbit that my sainted Bodie killed. He was such a sneaky Golden. I had a play pen I used for a bunny playground. Bodie would wait for me to get busy somewhere, then push the playpen down and kill the bunny. I found them lying together on the lawn, the dead bunny and Bodie, just like a couple of pals. I thought I would woman-up and prepare the bunny. I made a stew with lots of carrots, potatoes, etc., but as soon as the smell came wafting out of the oven I became nauseaus. Aromas are very powerful memory-inducers. On a lighter note, I made Clove soap today and melted a giant pot of soap scraps for my shaving mugs. I got maybe four dozen mugs filled and brushes are ordered. The brushes are prohibitively expensive, and I can't trade wool for them like I do with the Susanne Farrington mugs. I have many repeat customers for the mugs, and one woman told me her son takes his on vacation with him. The apartment smells like clove oil. I'm staying indoors because I don't want to see the remnants of the slaughter outdoors. Randy and Matt hauled a lot of by-products up to the dead pile. The coyotes will eat well tonight.