Shearing Day

I had locked up the sheep in the awful rain on Thursday, anticipating shearing on Saturday, but Friday brought some sun and I let the hungry beasts out to graze.   There was something in the hay that I was forking down to them while they were locked in that upset my lungs.  I didn't realize what I was breathing and why I was feeling poorly until a ray of sunshine through the slats of the upper hay mow illustrated what was floating in the air.  It would   clog up anyone's airways.    The sheep were thrilled to get out, and I set about my usual routine of critters, dinner, then chores, then moving things around in the barn to make room for Jim the shearer to work.  I had been calling around for hired help, which costs a fortune but is worth every penny.  Still I was worried.  My barn needs to be cleaned out and the hay pack is high.  A Hobbit would do fine herding sheep in there, but not big tall farmboys.  I had vaccines and syringes delivered and picked up wormer and bags.  I thought I would sit down for a while at ten then go out and lock up the sheep.   Found out about my friend dying then spent a fitful night grieving for everyone's loss....and never went out to lock up the sheep.  Woke with a start and ran out into the mist to find sheep everywhere - and quite wet.  It doesn't have to rain to get sheep wet.  They can walk through wet grass and get soaked that way, or stand in the morning mist.  Chased them in and wondered what to do.  Should I call Jim, who is coming from Ithaca, 80 miles away, and cancel?   Mia was coming from New Jersey, and what about the boys, who needed the $$ I offered them?  I decided to let it go and hope for the best.  Randy and Loren came early as I asked them to do and we scraped and raked a whole lot of hay and poop to get the floor ready for Jim. They corraled a bunch of sheep close to the shearing floor just as Jim pulled up.  Jim is so easy-going and does his best in the worst of circumstances, but shearing wet sheep is something all shearers hate.  Most will flatly refuse to do it.    I got a good scolding, even yelled at a little, but he soldiered on.  Most of the sheep were dry, but three or four were good and wet.  I did 180 hooves, hoisting each one up between my knees for clipping while Loren straddled them and held their heads.  I gave them shots, Loren wormed them, and they were away to lunch on thick green grass in their summer haircuts.  Most of the sheep are FAT.   A couple of old girls are a little bony, but that's to be expected at their age and with the young ones pushing them away from the food.  We sheared Lilly for the first time in two years, who was looking a little weary of the whole business.  Four big fat black sheep, the Merino cross 200 pounders, escaped the herders and shot out the windows of the barn.  After doing 45 animals the guys were reluctant to go out and find them.  I was a little disappointed, but Jim was looking forward to going home and hopping on his tractor at that point so I didn't push it.  Don't know when I'll get them done.  They have lovely jet black wool which will burn reddish tips in the sun.  I would love to get coats on them.   We visited with Sharon, my friend from school, and Dimitries, former student, and hiked up to the pond.   We soaked up some sun and took a break.  Sharon played with kittens and gave my goat baby his bottle.  She and Dimitries left for home and we tidied up a bit.  I have a lot more work to do out there, including finding a place to put the mountain of fleeces.  Would love to get to work on washing and dyeing them, but my wool washing machine is broken.  Have to shop for a used machine.  There's always something.     Mia and I took Matt out for Father's Day dinner at Frank and Betsey's in New Berlin.  Gosh, they put out a hefty plate of food.  I had grilled salmon piled high with salsa and marinated Utican greens and squash.   I downed a glass of Zinfandel to celebrate a successful day of shearing.  Home to chores.   I grabbed one little goat and Mia held her while I got a nice bag of mohair off her.    I'm hoping Matt R. will do the same for me today, but it is Father's Day and I won't push it.  I could work on animals every day, all day, but it is not the same for him.  

Goodbye Kay

  I was derailed late Friday night when I learned of the death of a fiber artist/shepherd friend, Kay ten Kraft, in Berlin, New York.    Kay had embarked on a walking program and was out on her road around six o'clock in the rain when a young man hit  and killed her.   We are almost the same age, with children, grandchildren, many animals, and a love of life that cannot be suppressed by any calamity that may befall us - save the Grim Reaper.  A senseless tragedy like this makes me question the love of God, but I have learned in my old age that God does not "let" things like this happen. God is sad when terrible things happen to us, but God gives us free will and, with that free will,  we have ecstacy and agony.  Kay leaves behind a large extended family and many friends.  We kept in touch on line but the last time I saw her in the flesh was when she came excitedly into my booth at Rhinebeck, looking fabulous as she lost a lot of weight, to tell me she had a fantastic show and wanted to buy another Bundaflicka tote.   Kay was one of the few people who understand what I am all about. We fiber people are a small enclave of rural society.  Kay was talented, honest, and full of infectious energy.  I know I will meet her on the other side, and we'll  tell farm stories, like the time her silo fell down in a storm and spooked her LGD who ran away.  Kay hiked far and wide, tracked that dog, and wouldn't stop until it was home safe and sound.  We'll knit together and trade stories about our grandchildren.   Until then, I will keep raising these critters and making yarn.  Kay would understand.

Shearing Day Tomorrow

I always get excited and nervous about shearing day.  I raise sheep and goats for wool and mohair.  Getting the fiber off the animals is very important.  It does not improve if left too long on the animal.    I've ordered vaccines, syringes and bags to put the wool in.  I've hired helpers and will purchase wormers today.  I panicked on the way home from work in the pouring rain when I realized the sheep are outside.  Herded the very hungry and confused sheep back into the barn when I got home.  They wanted to go out to pasture to graze but I wanted them to go inside and dry off.   The sun is out today and everything should be fine.   Tonight I rake out the part of the barn where Jim will set up his board and put up a table for skirting.  Mia is coming up from New Jersey to help, which I feel badly about as she works such long hours.  She has Father's Day complications back home and has to leave early on Sunday.  Rounding up the sheep and getting them penned in is not easy in my barn with the hay pack up so high and holes everywhere for the animals to escape through.  No fancy handling equipment on this farm.  Hopefully Loren and Randy, long-time farm hands and very sturdy young men, will wrangle the big, giant monsters without mishap.  We have lots of babies running around that have to be put aside to avoid being run over.   White sheep first, then black sheep, then goats.  Then a lot of time for me, sorting and skirting fleeces.  The weather looks promising, with sunny skies and cool temps.  This is late to shear, but there are advantages to doing it this late.  Less chance for flies to burrow in and lay eggs resulting in the nasty fly-strike.  Better get home and get organized for tomorrow.  Me?  Organized?  No such thing.

Fancy and her Babies

Fancy is taking very good care of her babies.  When she jumped out of the pen and left them to go out and graze I feared I had a neglectful mother on my hands.  On the advice of my goat friends, I finally let the babies go.  They clung together and wouldn't leave the barn.  I don't blame them.  The walk up to the field is a nasty, muddy, wet climb with all this rain and run off we've been having.  The angora goats are so funny.  The moms will come up to the edge of the pasture, look back to the barn ands start screaming for the kids to follow.  The babies stay in the barn and scream their heads off, as if to say, come and get us, or no, we don't want to go out there.   Finally they come, dancing and bouncing along.  Fancy doesn't mind leaving her babies in the barn.  It gives her more freedom to roam the hillside with her sister, Matilda.  They stand on their hind legs and pick leaves off the apple trees.  When I noticed them doing that I realized who was getting to the flakes of hay I have piled on top of the hanging rabbit cages.  I put Fancy's babies back in their pen and let Fancy in with them when she comes back in from the field.  She can jump over the panels easily so it's no problem when I'm at work.  The corn I give her inside the pen with her babies is a great incentive.  Still haven't decided when I'm going to start milking her.  Some goat people wait two weeks or more to give the babies a good start.  I'm out of school in another week so I'm thinking I will start then.  I have a big job ahead of me with cleaning the milk room, which is full of junk, and hosing it out.   I have to pull the pieces of my milking stand out of the pile in the back of the barn and put it together.  I'm sure it will need some work.  I'm hoping Luke will be on the farm by then to help me with all this.  I'm very excited about my first dairy adventure.  I've been preparing Fancy for this intimate interaction with lots of petting and stroking of her udder.  I want to find a Nubian buck for Matilda, and, in time, Fancy's daughter Babette.  Bubba will be banded and play to his heart's content until I decide what to do with him.  I'm totally enthralled with my Nubian goats.  They are beautiful, sweet, mesmerizing animals.

Wet

After a brief sunny respite yesterday, the rain is back.  It is pouring now and the forecast says rain tomorrow too.  Local farmers have crops in the ground that are drowning in all this water.  One of my dairy farmer neighbors is the postmaster in New Berlin.  She tells me she can't get her corn started it's so wet.  My fields are waist high in hay and Julia is ready to mow for me but there is no way to get it dry.  I've heard conflicting reports about baleage.  Baleage is wet hay that is wrapped in plastic to preserve it.  The hay is "pickled" and the sheep love it...but I've been warned about listeriosis, a brain disease that comes from wet leaves.  Humans sometime get it from salad bars.  With all these little babies running around the farm I'm concerned.  They are more vulnerable to just about anything.  I would love a repeat of last summer where Julia and her crew put 50 round bales in my barn over three blistering hot days.  Trouble is, that kind of heat might not happen until sometime in July.  With the waning sun I might not get a second cut later in the summer.   I'm hoping for 60 or more round bales to get us through the coming winter.  These and other things weigh heavily on my mind.  Right now the flock is getting fat on all the grass out there. When you live in the North Land you don't forget the chill of the last winter, and you are always getting ready for the next one. 

Mother Lode

Some incredibly beautiful fabric is coming my way lately.  Carol Crayonbox has a friend who decided to let go of his stash and gave me first dibs.  They brought the gorgeous cloth to the CNY Fiber Festival for me to look over this past weekend.  I can't wait to get started on some new totes when school is out.  I also have a new fabric friend, Sally Newhart, in New Orleans.  I met her in Julia Hildebrant's booth at Maryland Sheep and Wool.  Sally is a published author and slipcover designer.  She offered me the upholstery scraps from her studio for postage.   The first box arrived and the cloth is not to be believed. I feel like it's Christmas morning.

My Bunny

I've wanted an English Angora rabbit for some time now.  I had them for years and years, then tried raising Germans for a while.  I much prefer the English.  I used to call angora rabbits the "poor woman's alpaca."  Now I call them the "smart woman's alpaca."  Angora fiber is wonderful and blends fantastically with wool.   I put a towel on my lap and watch TV with the bunny while I gently brush out the loose angora with a tiny cat brush.  The process is painless and makes for a more comfortable bunny.   The angora/wool skeins in my handspun basket always sell first.  This baby is the sweetest little thing and runs over to the door of the cage to say hello when I walk by.  I can't wait for Luke to meet her.   Trying to come up with a name...

Wet Felting With Susanne

                                                                           

Susanne Farrington came to the CNY Fiber Festival and taught us how to craft a wet-felted hat over a ceramic form.  Susanne picked out some green and blue Bluefaced Leicester wool from my booth, and fashioned a hat that looks like a globe.  We could even pick out Madagascar in the design.  The crowds were mesmerized with Susanne's talented hands.  I learned how to use needles to trim the edges.  Susanne is also a potter and used a ceramic device of her own design to help the felting process.  

Who Da' Man?

Behind every shepherd there is the man (or woman) who gets the wool off the sheep and makes her look good.  For me it is my faithful shearer from Freeville, near Ithaca, Big Jim Baldwin.  He is the only shearer who doesn't make me nervous and fretful.  His easy manner and sense of humor actually make shearing day fun.  Jim really cares about the sheep and gives me good advice, sometimes painful, but nonetheless appreciated.  We have a date for Saturday - thank the Solstice Gods - and I will have a mountain of luscious wool to play with.  Jim demonstrated shearing for the crowds at the Bouckville festival this past weekend.  The fiber fanatics bought his Merino fleeces as they came off the sheep.  Jim gifted me with a gorgeous, long-stapled, highly crimped, fabulous black Merino fleece.  He asked me to be sure to share it with Kim, my wooly side-kick.  Feeling grateful for all the help she gives me at shows, and feeling wonderful after a night in the cozy bed she made for me in the van, I gave her the whole thing to take back to Ontario with her.  I'll be sure to work her like a rented mule for that fleece, but don't tell her what I have planned.

Sublime

I spent the weekend at the 3rd annual Central New York Fiber Festival in Bouckville, New York.  CNY spells heaven on earth, and when you add all manner of fiber bearing animals, along with talented artisans who know what to do with luscious natural fibers, you have Shangri-La.

Wool sales were brisk despite heavy competition from local shepherds, goatherds, paci-people, and bunny ranchers.  I was able to barter my goods for various things including much needed and longed-for hay feeders offered to me by a local shepherd who is down-sizing her flock.  I traded a Bundaflicka tote for some gorgeous Lincoln Longwool yarn I was lusting after.  The artist contacted me to say how happy she was with her bag, and how she hopes I am happy with the yarn.  She has no idea...

Welcoming Party

I arrived home yesterday to find yet another mother hen and her hatchlings waiting for me in the driveway.  I have such a big barn that chickens can find dozens of places to hide their eggs where I can't get to them.   No wonder I have so many free-range chickens.   I love the darlings, but fear for their safety with the hungry cats around.  My hens are pretty tough.  I've watched them scare off the cats many times.  It's not about size - it's all about attitude.

Cuteness

I went out for my late night barn check and found Miss Fancy lying quietly near her babies' pen, with her girlfriend, Matilda.  It did not concern her that the little ones were jumping up and down, wanting their evening meal.  I mean, this was after ten o'clock.  I opened the pen and coaxed Fancy inside with corn.  I think she was more interested in corn than the babies.  They nursed eagerly.  Who knows when they had their last meal, as Fancy had been outside grazing for many hours. Surely her udder was full.  I don't think we are going to have any separation anxiety on Fancy's part when the time comes.  I think I will start milking her next week.  No time this weekend as I will be at the CNY Fiber Festival in Bouckville.  With Tropical Storm Andrea coming up the coast, who knows what the weather will be like. Secretly...I like it cool for the animals.  I hate to see wooly animals hauled to shows in the hot weather.  It's awful for them.

Weather

35 F. on the farm this morning.   Quite a switch from the nineties of the weekend.  The weather has been glorious the last three days - sunshine, cool temps and low humidity.  I could get used to this but don't dare.  Rain coming tomorrow through Saturday.  Looks like the first day of our Bouckville festival will be rainy.  Sunday will be lovely.  Everything is under big roomy tents but we would get more people through the gates with sunny skies.  Lots of soap to wrap and two Latin messenger totes on the machine right now.  Miss Fancy has started jumping out of her pen during the day when I'm at work and going out to graze with the rest of the flock when I open the gate upon arriving home.  I was quite worried about it last night but then I found her waiting next to the pen.  Same thing today but she's staying out longer.  I think the babies are a bit too young to let them out with her.  Maybe in a week or so.  I don't think they could make it up the big hill with Fancy.  They grow so fast it won't be long.    Hannah and Luke left without giving me the many goat names I need.  The white bottle boy is such a chow hound I can't believe it.  His sister is nursing so you would think brother would get with the program and take some too.  No, he would rather wait for his bottles - one in the morning, one after work and one night-night bottle.   He drains them dry in no time.  Everyone else, including my one little lamb, Cinco, is nursing the way nature intended.  Thank goodness. 

Bubba and Babbette

I had no idea what my Nubian twins would look like, having been fathered by a red angora goat, but they couldn't be cuter.  I love the markings, and they have the lovely, artful, long Nubian ears.  I adore them.  After more than a day of nursing the babies, I checked her milk last night.  I wanted to make sure both teats were working properly.  I only got a half cup full.  The babies must be taking it, which is just fine.  I'm wondering if there will be enough to share with me.  Might have to wait until they are weaned before I do any serious milking.  I have a lot to learn about dairy goats. 

Sunset Swim

It was not the first time I swam in the wonderfully invigorating pond water this year.  I had indulged myself the day before after arriving home from work in the oppressive heat.  After working all day at the Hamilton Farmer's Market where we melted through the morning a swim was unavoidable.   Annie and Hannah joined me along with several of our dogs.  It was just what we needed.  We stayed in the spring water until the sun started to sink then made our way back down the hill through the sheep.  I live in Paradise. 

Travelling Chickens

Camp Hinds, the Boy Scout camp near Portland, is gearing up for 350 campers to arrive shortly.  They will have some help with breakfast now that Annie has provided them with a crate full of Maggie's Farm hens.  I even included a mom with chicks.  There is undoubtedley a rooster included in the tiny puff balls, so the future of the colony is secure.   Morning cock-a-doodle-doo's will sound wonderful ringing through the piney woods. 

As Annie pulled away from the farm the chicken house was being built at Camp Hinds.  The caretaker has two little boys who were anxiously waiting for the precious cargo. Chickens are so easy to care for - and their nutritious, delicious gifts come in biodegradable packages.  What's not to like? 

Silos are for Climbing

Luke couldn't resist.  He had to climb up the silo wall, or give it a try.  There is a ladder going up, but it is rusted and probably unsafe.  Now I know who will put my Christmas star up in the fall.  I didn't let Luke go very far up.  It was tempting for him, but without a safety harness and a fireman's trampoline to fall on to, there is just no way. 

Bye-Bye Kitty

I knew that Annie and the kids wanted a kitty friend for little Fergus, the multi-toed tuxedo cat they adopted last summer.  I thought it was going to be a striking calico kitty that they would take home to Maine this past weekend.  Hannah said that kitty was short on the cuddle points.  They picked a sweet little white kitty and Luke named her Arvi.  Sounds very Norwegian to me.  When I called to make sure they got home okay in the terrible storming yesterday, Eric told me they were home safe and the kitty was having a bath.  Lucky little kitty to find a home in an upscale Maine home with lots of stairs and rooms to play hide and seek....and the wood stove is always on.

The Future is Here

I used to be concerned about having no one to pass my skills to.  I don't worry about it any longer.  My daughter, Mia, knits and spins - when she's not running marathons and working as a Nurse Practitioner.  Now Hannah, Eric and Annie's daughter, is spinning exquisitely beautiful yarns.  She learned by watching her mother who I taught to knit and spin when Hannah was born.  Hannah has been spinning on the Louet I bought for Annie on her first anniversary.   I've been very impressed with Hannah's yarn, and so appreciative of all the help she's been to me at NY State Sheep and Wool at Rhinebeck, and, more recently, at Maryland Sheep and Wool.   I gave Hannah a cherry Robin wheel for her 15th birthday.  How fitting that the Robin is made in southern Maine, where Hannah lives now.  This very classy and talented granddaughter of mine deserves a classy, hand crafted wheel.

Fancy and her Twins

One of my Nubian queens gave birth to twins on Saturday.  It was hot as Hades, and we were working the farmer's market in Hamilton.  I noticed Fancy was full of milk that morning, and predicted a birth shortly.  Sure enough, there she was, in a spot she picked herself in front of the chicken room, with two great big colorful and healthy babies.  What a thrill for Hannah and Luke who had come from Maine to pick up a load of chickens to take the the Boy Scout camp near Portland.  Luke named the babies Bubba and Babbette.  Fancy is a first time mother.  I purchased her along with Matilda a year ago from my friend Peggy Sue at West Creek Family Farm.  I am thrilled and looking forward to gallons of delicious Nubian goat milk.