No Excuses

No excuses. I could make a list of what all we have been up to - as an excuse for my not getting to the blog page for so long. And really, they are all valid, good ones. Impossible, or at least not practical to even make an attempt when all you have to type on is a tablet, would be the foremost. But never mind. I still don't have that much time to waste.

Today we marked shearing as finished for the year. The last 2 of the yearling rams got slicked down for the summer - which despite its long in coming, according to the weather reports is due to arrive. Tomorrow will be spring, and the next will be summer. Not what any of us had in mind.

Back to the subject I left hanging  in my last post.

Breeding colored sheep is still relatively new to us, at least in terms of generations of records of matches and results as statistics. But being on the 2nd and 3rd generations this year, we thought we were getting a handle on it. Not true.

Thousands of years of selective breeding by humankind, and 45 or so by McClures would lead us to expect a new family to look something like this.

White mother, white offspring who look much like her. (Triplets, at that!)

Only problem - their father was black. But hey - thats still ok, considering the white gene is supposed to be dominant.

Meanwhile, in the pen next door is this family.



That's right. Black mother, 2 white babies.

White gene dominant?  Hmm. Maybe not. These babies had both a black mother and father.                

Pen number 3 - just across the fence, on the same day.

Yep.  White mother, 2 black lambs.  Okay, so at least their father was black.


Things just didn't go as predicted this year. And no, no mistakes were made in pairing mothers and babies.

So, I turned across the isle, and got a shot of just one more set.

That's more like it.  White mom, black dad, and babies - one of each.

There are a few people out there who claim to have the whole color probability thing figured out. I'm not so sure. It's obvious to us at least, that it's a lot more complicated than a simple dominant gene. It's likely that the next time I hear of someone who 'knows', I'll just smile, and bite my tongue.

Meanwhile, the ewes and lambs are out to grass (and rye). The rams are sheared and recoated, and thoughts are turning to who will be the chosen to take to the Iowa Sheep and Wool Festival in June. (sooner than we would like)

Today is Mothers Day. To celebrate (if thats what you want to call it), we sheared 2 sheep, began pondering which fleeces to show, and while Don tilled the garden, I worked on my entry for the Black Sheep Gathering Show. Then we put out the pathetic spindly plants, ready or not, and added some seed for good measure. The potatoes, onions, lettuce, peas, and a few other rows are at least visible now. The first offering of rhubarb and asparagus have been consumed.

And to end the day, we're quitting a bit early. The evening promises home made pizza, salad, and a personal sized portion of carrot cake left by the daughter in exchange for a 3 year old's haircut yesterday. (and maybe Mothers day). Then an appointment with, of all things, the TV.  Doc Martin, Call the Midwife, and the season finale of Revenge. Hm. almost sounds appropriate for the day.

Not exciting, but satisfying in a strange sort of way.

Now I'm done here for the day too.

But, there will be more.  Another day.

Happy Mothers day to all of you, from all the Ewes, and Us too.

Seasonal visitors to the farm

So, the lamb count is lost somewhere.  I stopped asking after it hit somewhere around 115, and the lamb drop slowed considerably. About 15 ewes left, including some of the ewe lambs that are pregnant. Been averaging one or two a day. The excitement has dwindled, and is edging into boredom, and the urge to just get it over with and move on.

The recent visitors were still excited by the babies though. First were the girl scouts, who came a couple of Saturday mornings for the Artventure Project. 

 They made felt, dyed it with kool aid, and made flowers.

And of course they had to meet some lambs.

Some even had shown lambs in 4-H, but few had ever seen true black ones.

 I made the green felt for the leaves, and the blue 'vase'.

The completed bouquet  will be sold at the upcoming fundraising event for the ArtVenture program.

Nice work girls.



And the title -  "Thanks o lot, and maybe next year we'll make Samoa."

 Then on Easter, the grandkids all got to meet some of the new members of the flock.  The older ones were only mildly impressed. Its not like they've never seen a lamb before.

But Max hadn't!  He was mesmerized. Or maybe he was attracted to the similar ears.  What a jolly little bunny with lamb.




More news soon. I even have pictures taken. But in the meantime, things are popping up all over.  The garden planting has begun, even if spring is very late.
No signs of potato green yet. The grass, however, with the help of the recent cold rain (yuck) is visibly taller each day.  The fruit trees are pruned. Almost ready for real spring.

Doing our best to get ready for the big event - the first spring  "Flock to the Farm".  Shearing, wool handling, spinning and more. Baby Lambs everywhere!  Garden preview, sustainable and intensive grazing practices. For families, fiber folks, and any wanting a day on the farm.  All welcome if you can get here.  There will be a report after the event of course.

Visitors are always welcome.
Hope your spring is as 'Hoppy' where you are.

Lambs are 'Marching' onward

The first lambs arrived just over 2 weeks ago. Now are more than half done, and I can't keep up with the count, but last I checked the score was 73 lambs on 52 ewes. Or something like that. It's been amazing to us how doubling the size of the flock somehow more than doubles the amount of work. But, like every other year, the sight of all those happy babies hopping and playing in the sunshine makes it all seem worth it.

When the sun finally shines that is.  Spring has been slow to arrive, and the cloudy cold days, seemingly continuous flurries, and furious north winds was hard on the newborns. Cramped for space this year, the new families were pushed out of the nursery in short order to make room for the even newer additions. A brief outbreak of scours was fortunately stopped with magic pink medicine and timely warming sun. Everybody is looking better now.

 The girls scouts came again this year for some fiber art fun (more on that in a later blog). They got to visit some of the first babies.  I was impressed - out of 7 girls, one had showed lambs in 4-H, and one had a mother who spins.  Still happy to do what we can to keep spreading the word about sheep and wool.

T

 Last Monday, I went out to take pictures for the blog, but it was a terrible day for lambs. But I did find these 4 in a row.

And a little wooly pinwheel. Or is it a shamrock?

The next day was better. The singles and their mothers were hanging out together in the sun.

And there are encouraging signs of spring. Once again, we are awakened by singing birds at dawn. And the chorus of hungry ewes at chore time are now joined by dozens of higher voices of the lambs. True music to a shepherds ears.

And meanwhile, seeds are sprouting. Firewood has been replaced by the table of green basking in the 24 hour faintly pink glow of the grow light. (In the sun room, of course)  The break in the weather broke dormancy of the gardener, and onion plants now reside in soil. As I type, the potatoes are placed in the adjoining rows.

So yes, it really turning out to be a good Friday, on Good Friday. Easter has long marked the beginning of spring in its celebration.

Hope you all have a good one too.

Happy Easter from all of us........ make that 75 lambs on 53 ewes.... at Ewe And Us.

Shearing day delight

As promised, a report on shearing day (s) 2013.

Well, so we really aren't done yet. The ewe lambs are still in full fleece, but with lambing beginning very soon, not for long. They get put down the list since they will lamb a little later.

 In full fleece, the girls filled the west half of the barn. And yes, it was time for shearing. As evidenced here, many of the covers were getting a bit too small.

I try to document things as they occur, and especially things like shearing day, since they only happen once a year. I got a couple of 'before' shots, and then got distracted with my duties as wool handler.

Don does the shearing. The bellies and tags are thrown into a separate pile at the beginning. Once sheared, I weigh and record the fleece, and throw out on a grated skirting table. I prefer to do out side up first, and pull off the really dirty edges, legs, and back of the neck - whatever was not protected by the cover. Character comments, staple, and other notes are put down, and the fleece is bagged tagged and  re-weighed for clean weight.  Uncovered fleeces are 'tanked' -  in this case meaning they are dumped into the lined 'tank' to be later bagged for commercial sale.

The experience of handling the still warm fleeces is always moving, especially as a spinner/wool enthusiast. Often, as recorded in past years blog report, its because of the warmth. This year, I sensed right away that there was something more. I noticed that after the few first fleeces that were uncovered, and thus 'tanked', and the first  lovely white warm clean fleece spread over the table. I judged. I took notes. And as each fleece passed through my hands and critique, it became my favorite. No, this one. Then this one. They are all different in minor ways - some dense with fine crimp, the next pencil locks with bold. One long and lustrous, the next incredibly soft. Like a mother of many children, in the end, I could name no favorite.

 After day 3 ( Admission of age - neither Don nor I were up to shearing all of them at once.) We cleaned off the shelves in the garage to make room for the new crop. (The last of the 2012 fleece was offered at bargain prices, and very little remains.)

 We loaded the truck with the bagged fleece for the trip to the garage. They didn't all fit.

We had noted that some very nice '12 fleeces got 'lost' on the shelves. This year, we tried a new system. The numbered fleece bags also have weight and a grade (my standards). They were they placed on the shelf according to their grade. Hopefully, I will be better able to locate them as they are called for according to use. I was pleased when Don kept running out of room for the 'A's' and A-'s.

 Meanwhile, back in the barn, the 'skirtings' pile was impressive. It always hurts to throw that much wool into the 'discard' pile, but the end product is well worth it. I will admit to my wool buyers that I found myself cheating just a little this year. Looking back at the fleeces as I list them for sale, I realize I didn't skirt as hard as I usually do. I just couldn't throw out all that wool that just needs a little more attention before processing. I will adjust price accordingly instead, and attribute it to being more sustainable.

After 'haircuts', the girls bask in the sunshine.  The colored ewes and a few other 'special' ones got covered right back up. They will probably go naked for a few weeks while their lambs are little - for safety - but no longer than necessary. Even Don is a believer in those covers, despite the frustration of keeping them on for months at a time.

 Then the commercial sale wool got bagged.

Yep, its a big bag.  Thats an 8 ft ladder.

 For those not experienced in the trade, this is how you get more than a hundred pounds of fluffy wool packed into the bag.

You stomp it in.





Meanwhile.......

Dolly was trying to help.


She brought us a bottle of water.

We declined, and went to the house for our drinks.


Thus ends the storyboard of shearing day. There are already several spaces on the shelves where fleeces have been sold. And a few have future owners names on them. And I sometimes wonder if I'm a fool for selling the best instead of keeping it for myself.  But that's the business. And I don't mind using the  lesser stuff - because its still quite nice.

So now we've moved on to the days ahead.  The lambing barn is partially set up. Today Don is off to fetch some better hay for the new mothers. The produce has been good, but not enough for both mother and lamb to supplement the poor hay. At least we found some, so we are trying to ignore the pain of a 5 digit purchase.

Now I need to go finish some plans for the girl scout class that will be here next weekend. They will be making felt dyed flowers for a group arrangement. Sure to be fun, and I hear they are excited to come see the baby lambs too.

The seed order came yesterday too. Maybe a project for the predicted (and sort of hoped for) rainy weekend.

And, yes, there are still the ewe lambs to shear.

Its spring on the farm.

Progress and produce in a frosty season

So it is now Feb 24th.  So much for Don's retirement.  In the past 3 weeks, much has happened. progress to be sure, but not so good for Don's plan for naps.

We attended the Agri-tourism Conference. Made some new friends, lots of contacts, answered a few questions, and shored up some confidence in our plans for the farm. Since then, there have been numerous meetings, and sign out papers. Still waiting on word about health insurance, but that's still a topic for another day.

Sheep got sheared, and all or near all are pregnant. That, too, is for another day.

Taxes are done, filed, and put away. That's a happy thought. so while we are on pleasantries, I will fill in the details of the produce story.

We have a rather unique local business that specializes in overstock, damaged, and other odd lots of various merchandise. We have been long time fans of the establishment, as it has provided many 'finds' over the years, varying from gallon cans of carrots, curtains, pet supplies, plastic kitchen ware, and so much more. Included is fresh produce retrieved from the distribution center. I have always tried to take advantage of the bargain prices, and happily changed the evening menu at the last minute to adjust for the daily deal at the Warehouse.

One day in mid January, amid a discussion of the current status of hay quality and nutritional needs, the Warehouse was mentioned. A short time later, the discussion came to mind as I placed my produce find of the day on the counter to pay. I looked behind me, and in a rare moment, there was no one. So I posed a question to the owner/cashier -  "What do you do with the leftover spoiled produce?"

The result - said produce is now consumed at Ewe And Us.

The first few hauls were crates of green beans.  A little moldy perhaps, but the girls didn't care.

 What a treat to have green goods in the bunk on a cold January day.

 Then one day, a special treat came in.  Watermelon! and cilantro, and collard and turnip greens. And berries, and bananas, apples and more.

 No, thats not a scene from a horror movie, its just watermelon lips on ewe.

 Here is a view of our 'produce' wagon while Don cuts the melons. Notice the waiting line behind him.

And then came the salad greens - cilantro.

Since then, we have lost track of how many hundreds of pounds of produce we have hauled home to the sheep. Last week it was potatoes. 1200 lbs of potatoes. Had to make 2 trips. They may not be in the form of fries, but it matters not. At 100 plus lbs/day, we still have some left.

I checked back in with the owner, to be sure they were aware and on board with the exchange. It's all good, for everyone. The crew doesnt need to haul everything back down the street. They don't have to pay to have it hauled away. It doesn't get put in the landfill. Its put to use - even if it's just sheep feed. And our pregnant ewes are getting an extra shot of nutrition.

Okay, so we have had a few days of grumbling. It does take time to empty all those berry containers, sort through the foul smelling bags of potatoes, and untie the bundles of greens and cilantro. The slimy cucumbers in shrink wrap were the worst for soaking through gloves and numbing fingers. Not to mention the loss of garage square footage to use as a walk in cooler. (an issue to be addressed before it warms too much).  But it seems to be worth it.

There is no predicting what or how much we will get. We just respond to 'the call'. But we do take notice when advised to 'bring a truck'.

And, for those of you may wonder, NO, even the food bank couldn't use this stuff. It's already been rejected once, maybe twice. But it does spark a little feeling of satisfaction that its one more item on our list of  'sustainable practices.'

So the next time you make some vegetable soup, you can raise a spoon,  think of Us, and say "Here's to Ewe".  Just don't use those rotten potatoes.

Its a new dawn.... Don...?

How embarrassing. I just missed an entire 3 months of blogging. So sorry readers.

Its not that nothing has been happening out here on the land. Quite the opposite. So if I may be permitted to claim and excuse for not keeping up, that would be it. Sometimes the actual living gets in the way of the documentation.

Nether have I not had intention. Nor ideas. Many posts have crossed my mind, and are tucked away in a brain crevasse, keeping company with the other 'could of's' and a number of 'should ofs'.

Some of the 'Could ofs' would include:

Breeding season ended on a positive note. The clean up ram didn't seem to find much to finish up. And now further verification of that by the observation that a number of the ewes are starting to bag up.

A very mild early winter was easy on the wood pile, but the lack of moisture in the warm temps was not so easy on the grass. Not to mention that the temporary fall pasture never got enough growth to graze.

After a good deal of frustration, the new automatic water-er got installed and in use before the hard freeze set in. The rams are sharing a tub with a heater, and the big bunch of ewes have the tank at the hydrant. No more draining hose every night. May not seem like much, but progress is progress.

The fall/Christmas season meant 3 art shows, classes at the Lux, and seasonal sales. Hmm. Maybe thats what I was doing.

Thanks to my daughters directive, I now have an inventory of yarn, wool, and needle felting supplies with the pleasant folks at 'Yarn Charm', a new yarn store in north Lincoln. Oh - and teaching classes there too.

Should 'ofs include:

The arrival of Maxwell Simon McClure on Oct 2.  (I can't believe I missed that one - I must have intended to make it a special one)  Our fourth grandchild, second grandson, and first male child to carry on the McClure name for the generation. Not to mention a happy boy who is a born charmer.

And now for the big one - Today is Don's last day at work.  Yup, he actually did it.  Really, I'm not sure either of us is fully prepared. The paperwork and questions are still in the works. There are actually several blogs worth of material involved. Like the frustrations of my finding health insurance. How do we handle the retirement account. The usual things. The sure one being- things are going to change.

The truth is, I feel like I'm 18 again. Or 21. Or about to welcome a member to the household.  - Oh. I guess I am. Its another stage of life. I have taken in 3 babies, watching them grow,  then releasing them first off to school, then college. My house was full, and seldom silent until the last one left for good. And I confess to have easily grown to appreciate the time alone. Well, most of the time. For sometimes alone IS lonely. That was 11 years ago. Now, starting tomorrow, there will be another human in the house. That seems strange.......Exciting!.....comforting.......scary.....   all at the same time.  But this is a farm. Things change. Seasons come and go.  Spring will soon be here, the season when all awakes to  the call to grow. And, in order to grow, all things must change.

The shepherd is coming home. Just in time for shearing - a preparation of spring and the new crop of lambs which will soon begin to appear. 

I don't think either of us (heh- 'US') see any endings here. Only beginnings. Of what, we're not quite certain yet. Time will tell. The seeds of opportunity are already being sown. With the ground still frozen, it may be a while before we recognize which ones have taken root.

The sunrise this morning was spectacular.  I watched with hot coffee and cold feet as the first light emerged on the eastern horizon. A line of dark gray clouds reached up from the south, as if trying to veil the thin yellow glow. But the pink prevailed. It's power penetrated the gray and in moments only a pale orchid softness remained.  I took it as a sign, and despite the temperature outside and in, I felt strangely warmed.

Its a new day.  Bring on the Don.

And, I'll try to do better with the blog.

And then.......

So it's now late October. The golden sun and leaves of my last post are gone. Literally - in the 50 mph wind we had last week. But other colors paint the landscape.

We cleared off the garden. Then we cleaned out the garage. The last of the green was gone from the creek, and the garden as well. The ewes relished the last seasonal treats of the immature squash and gourds. The broccoli plants were crunched with great enthusiasm, and the red and green tomatoes eagerly gobbled. We sighed a bit, and unwrapped yet another of the precious few bales.

And then...... it rained.

With a soft distant rumble of thunder, it began with a gentle patter on the window. It continued for much of the morning, each drop disappearing as soon as it hit the ground. It didn't seem like much, so I was surprised when the telltale sign of the glistening puddle appeared at the end of the drive - had it really reached the half inch mark?  Yes, indeed.

By then, the faint rhythmic pulse of the rain was accompaniment to the chorus of the green. If you listened carefully, you could almost hear the turnips singing. Maybe it was just my imagination, but  I think the trees were humming along.

To witness and be moved by such a simple act of nature is a wonder-ous and humbling thing. It brought back memories. Of my Dad, leaning against the frame of the porch screen door, watching the water pouring out of the bent downspout, covering  the lawn in a miniature flood plain, his face almost aglow in a grin. My mother's retelling of a neighbors claim "'Makes me want to break out a chorus of the Doxology when it rains like this', according to  Edith Stone". Was that the refrain I heard?

The 3/4 in we got that day was welcome beyond words. And there were still showers predicted that night. Sleep came easily for the first time in weeks. Brief pelting of drops off and on during the night were but more music to my ears.

The ground seemed unusually wet the next morning when I fetched Dolly from the kennel. Even a hint of mud. But it wasn't until later that day I understood why. "Did you empty the gauge last night?" I asked when Don came home. He went out  to check it, neither of us not sure if we could believe it. An inch .6 total.

And it didn't stop then. Again, today, it rained. Another inch. We can't explain why we continue to get considerably more than our neighbors (well, except in Omaha). Not going to question it.

So the ewes got a few days grazing on the last grass on the west fork. The mixed greens patch is fluffing up, but still not enough to graze. If the weather holds up, and its above normal temps as predicted, there may be some greens of a different sort come Christmas.

Meanwhile, the days pass by, and the usual seasonal activity with them. The girls were sorted by  familial groups, and the bucks turned out. New lambs will be the next crop hoped for. The cycles and circles of life spiral on. I noticed the other day, that the colors of the landscape had shifted. Before, the trees provided a backdrop of dry green over the tanning of the grass. Today, the gray-brown bare branches reach up from pools of green. The world once more has been turned up-side-down. Or has it been righted by rain? It matters not, I suppose.

Oh - it rained all right. But the drought is far from over. There will be many nights spent pondering copeing methods of dry, hopeful minds  emotionally enlightened and physically warmed by the orange glow of a friendly fire. There's one burning now.

And I hear it calling. Or maybe its speaking softly to the still alive trees outside, joining them in the soft melody of an ancient song. I think I'll join them. I'm sorry you can't hear us via blog. I'm humming the old hymn along with them.  It goes "Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, Praise Him all creatures here below."