tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58623368814903079592024-03-13T10:37:55.872-05:00EweandUsEweandUs is exactly that. A small flock of sheep, the 'Ewes', and 'Us', the people who tend them. Here on our farm (a very small farm) in Nebraska, our flock of sheep has been a central focus of our life style for over 30 years. We raise sheep with a focus on wool for the specialty market, from fleece to finished art. Visit our website at www.eweandus.com.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-20211318295890439612019-10-16T11:12:00.003-05:002019-10-16T11:12:14.008-05:00Yes, its been awhile. Months. Years. but we're still here.<br />
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Busy doesn't cover it.<br />
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Yesterday I looked up a post on the 'other' page - directions for making a triangle loom - to share with a facebook page, and this one popped up. I was a bit distressed when i saw how long it has been since I posted.<br />
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Truth is, I now post all the current news on the farm Facebook page. But I have intentions of doing more writing in general in the near future, so maybe I should include this blog. It would help to know that someone actually reads it. So if you do, let me know - by commenting here or otherwise.<br />
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News for the day - Most of the market lambs and ewe lambs have been sold. The locker lambs go next week. 15 ewe lambs are covered and will be kept in the flock.<br />
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In the next couple weeks, the breeding pens will be sorted and the rams turned out. After the terrible year for weather, maybe we are finally catching up - that is, if the manure actually gets spread.<br />
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Meanwhile, here's looking at ewe.<br />
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Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-58513850696241195182014-10-24T16:10:00.000-05:002014-10-24T16:10:29.078-05:00Sorting and 'turn out' day, Oct 24, 2014Well, after a hectic summer of constant activity, fall came. And here it is, that eventful day in October.<br />
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It started out with a lovely sunrise.<br />
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But its Oct 24. A nice round number, and marked on the calendar as 'Turn the Bucks out' day.<br />
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So Don set up the sorting chute - for the first time. It has been here awhile, but being not sure where to set it up, it remained leaving against the shed. This year, he decided there had to be a better way to sort all those ewes than catching them all by hand.<br />
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So it got a trial run in a temporary location. And it worked. The girls even walked right through to the gate. </div>
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Here it is in use. The metal structure just beyond the black ewe is the actual sorting gate. The panels on each side swing to the center, leaving a path for the sheep to go straight forward, to the left, or to the right. The addition of the wood panel just past adds a fourth destination. Which means by simply adjusting the gate positions, each ewe is directed to one of four pens.</div>
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Ewe numbers were already sorted into breeding pens, thank heavens. The girls filed in without much fuss.</div>
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And after lunch, each pen got moved to more comfortable accommodations.</div>
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And the boys came out.</div>
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Grandpa got his group in the lambing shed.<br />
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Sonny and his girls. (well, this is with the 3 that were interested in him today. There are many more.)<br />
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Jean Claude was assigned to the group in the East lot.<br />
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And 140 has a group too.</div>
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So it all worked well. And all the rams are already at work. A total of 90 ewes will begin having lambs come next March. (usually the first is born on March 19th, regardless of the day the rams go out).</div>
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And I managed to get a blog post done. Finally.</div>
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I have so many subjects, and so little time. Maybe the colder weather will help settle me in at the computer. Maybe.</div>
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# makin' lambies. Go Rams. Thanks to Alex for the 'trade'.</div>
Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-23002251951039706002014-06-17T20:46:00.000-05:002014-06-17T20:46:29.859-05:00Iowa Sheep and Wool Festival, 2014Well, its past time for a post, but we have been busy as usual. Its farming time, and the rains and strange weather have complicated and changed our plans many days. But when its Festival time, we pack up and head east regardless.<br />
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This year was one of many 'firsts'. Having outgrown the past location, this year the Festival was in a new location - Colfax, IA, which made it a 30 minute longer drive, but the additional space was a plus.<br />
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Just for fun (and a little 'progress'), we added in a few 'new' things ourselves.<br />
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We added a 'new' truck to take us all, and all our things to the Festival this year.<br />
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The sheep got to ride in the 'new' little show trailer.<br />
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The 'new' setup was comfortable for all, and economical too. More room, and we didn't have to drive the big 'Bertha'. Of course, nothing about it was really new, but only new to 'Us'.<br />
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The new barn was pretty open, so we had to improvise some with the set up, but we managed to contain it all, even during the gusty winds.<br />
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We even had a 'new' sign</div>
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And some new merchandise - Hand dyed roving braids, and some hand spun yarn. Both were well received</div>
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Of course we took lots of fleeces. Which was a good thing.</div>
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We entered some in the fleece show .......</div>
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And won Champion Fleece.....<br />
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And Reserve Champion Fleece.</div>
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We were very pleased.</div>
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Another 'new' thing was the Lamb pot luck on Saturday night. The Association furnished lamb lasagna, Swedish meatballs, and fajitas, and guests all brought dishes. Of course we had to promote lamb too, so we took lamb desert -</div>
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White and natural colored sheep cupcakes.</div>
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Needless to say, we had no left overs to take home.</div>
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I taught 2 classes of needle felting too. Not large numbers this year, but we had fun. A skein of handspun 'Grandpa's fleece won its class, so it now sports a blue ribbon also.</div>
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We shared duties with our booth neighbors, Seelow Sheep Farm, of wool knowledge with the public.</div>
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A little cooperation among producers is a benefit for all.</div>
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So, after an exhausting but enjoyable and successful weekend, we packed up our woolies and headed west for home.</div>
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We were really glad we sold some of those fleeces. We were packed just as tight for the trip home. Christian from C&M Acres Mill brought our finished roving, bats, and needle felted sheets. I resisted the urge to pull them out while there, and was glad I did. This is the pile they made on the shop floor at home.</div>
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More than 40 lbs of fleecy fun experimenting to do. Yes, I have plans. Now to find the time.</div>
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Time! Right. In the meantime, the weeds in the garden are doing as well as the chosen plants. The rabbits are enjoying the broccoli, and the beets must have been good, because they're gone too. Most of the corn survived the wash outs, if we can sort it out from the crab grass. Its going to be an interesting summer, vegetable wise. At least the zucchini are trying.</div>
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The 'hayin neighbor' managed to get the first patch of hay up between rains, so we now have 7 bales tucked away for the winter. Much more is standing, and ready to mow if the weather forecast ever looked promising. Can't put up hay in 2 days with 80% humidity and showers.</div>
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So we made it through another festival. All well at home, and Dolly was glad to see us return. She tried digging a basement to her dog house in her free time while we were gone. The aged cat Stalky was well but not happy after being left alone in the house. She promptly ate, and went out for the night.</div>
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Now to work. The garage is full of fleeces to be listed for sale. </div>
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Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-42224361389408509052014-05-02T17:20:00.000-05:002014-05-02T17:20:46.282-05:00Flock to the Farm, 2014Last weekend was the 2nd Annual Flock to the Farm. We called. They came. They Flocked. Fiber and fun.<br />
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Spinners came, and shopped for fleece in the shop.<br />
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Charts and samples of wool grades and breeds helped sort out facts.<br />
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Longer is not always better they learned.<br />
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And, the question of the day, "what does blood have to do with it?"<br />
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There was some seious 'spind'lin' going on.<br />
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Those girls were good at spinning a yarn.<br />
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Then Don the Shepherd got on (the) board.<br />
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Some serious shearing for the spectators.<br />
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Followed by skirting.<br />
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outside up -<br />
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Then inside up. And explaining why.<br />
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Meanwhile - what do the small ones do while Mom is talking fleece?<br />
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You have fun with sticks in the dirt.<br />
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And then its time for 'all hands on lamb'.<br />
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"So have some fleece for sale?"<br />
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I think so.<br />
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How do you choose from so many?<br />
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It's easier when you buy 2 fleeces, and split them 3 ways.<br />
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Yup - you get Three bags full.<br />
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So a good time was had by all. On Saturday at least.<br />
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Sunday was windy, wet, and cold. Not a great day for the family fun day we had planned. But a few came out anyway. and we had some fun in the barn.<br />
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The last ewe lamb got sheared, so now Don is done.<br />
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And the 'Ad Rams' did their job again this year.<br />
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We'll call it successful again this year.<br />
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Now the load of extra wool has been delivered to the mill. And several of us can hardly wait till the bats and roving and felt come home, all clean and white - and black - and ready for the next step. Meanwhile, I'm processing some by hand. There is yarn and felt to be made.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-30614752544464188012014-03-23T17:01:00.000-05:002014-03-23T17:01:12.871-05:00Its that time....<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qTIpNbjy7EU/Uy9Vf1UhnzI/AAAAAAAABR8/iJ1MDVOZnrs/s1600/S7306639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qTIpNbjy7EU/Uy9Vf1UhnzI/AAAAAAAABR8/iJ1MDVOZnrs/s1600/S7306639.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
Lots of things happening out here on the farm. I had a big birthday, but it took two weeks for the party to happen. Good to know I'm not the only slow person in the family. Or not really slow, just too much going on. Anyway, I got dinner and a cake, and this collective picture with the Grandkids just for turning 60 years old!<br />
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It's now March 23rd. Spring is officially here, according to both calendar and barnyard.<br />
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With the art side barely under control, some farmy things have gotten done too. Don found and borrowed a neighbors skidsteer, and the barns got cleaned out. Then the sheep-poo-poo mountains got spread onto the temporary pasture. Then the rest of the pasture got fertilized with nitrogen from the Co-op.<br />
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And the shearing got done. - see associated 'eweandus-practically' blog post for details.<br />
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And the invitation for 'Flock to the Farm' has been drawn up and emailed to most.<br />
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Seeds are sprouting (hopefully) under the light in the sun room.<br />
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Newest shawl is half done on the loom. And with 2 weeks before deadline - the Spirit Art Auction and Gala in Kearney. Looking forward to seeing the Crane Brothers one more time, and saying farewell when they hand me the check. (I've been told it's coming).<br />
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Now the Lambs are here. Well, at least the first of them. Head count for the hour is 23.<br />
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This little one may only be a day old, but she already is on her mothers back. "Get off Momma's wool", her sister says.<br />
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Ruby (in the back pen) was our first born colored lamb. This year she had a nice ewe lamb to add to the next generation of fleece producers.<br />
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The first born lambs are getting their first day in the sun.<br />
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But its still cold.<br />
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She's a little one, but she's special. Looks like she will be gray, and a Merino-Corriedale-crossbred mix.<br />
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Here is a half blood Merino that looks like one. All those wrinkles should make lots of wool.<br />
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Sorry little ones, but I don't think you're ready for hay yet.<br />
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So - there's the lamb report for now.<br />
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More lambs and maybe some snow tomorrow. Sure glad we didn't start lambing any sooner.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-9145548807533311052014-02-02T16:31:00.000-06:002014-02-02T16:31:08.261-06:00No more excuses. Look for the light.Excuses are just words. But when they just run through your head, they are only thoughts. Wish I had managed to get at least some of them spelled out in the last 6 months. But here we are. Groundhog Day, 2014. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing to run it through a few times before moving on. Would it give me some time to catch up?<br />
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Seriously though, we have been busy. Ewes and Us. County fairs to judge, a daughters Masters Degree, offspring selling and buying and building houses. Miles (the grandson) along the path of life. Life unpredictable, unplanned, unexplained sometimes, but never unappreciated. Just sometimes a little late in documentation.<br />
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I truly have had a blog post in mind. Intended for Thanksgiving. Then Christmas. Then to herald the New Year. Will settle for Ground Hog Day. For although the bright sunny day gives predictions of shadows seen, and 6 more weeks of winter, my subject is quite fitting.<br />
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I took this picture weeks ago.<br />
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Yeah, its a plant. But look closer, and think about it.<br />
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Its just a plant in my living room. Sadly, badly neglected. It started out with two stems. I gave it a new pot long ago. It gets watered - maybe once a month or so. It has a way of calling out for help when it gets really dry. REALLY dry. Its poor leaves sag as it closes its pores in a desperate state of conservation of moisture. And then I notice it. The experiencing and recovering from drought has left a scar not soon forgotten, and I can share its pain. But then I noticed one day this simple Croton had much more to tell than its personal wish for water. I noticed it was reaching for the light.<br />
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I knew enough I should move it to the sun room, to join the other plants on the table flooded with sun every sun-lit day. But I didn't. I waited, and watched, and tried a little harder to remember to water. And this is what I heard it say.<br />
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It started out as not one, but two. Blocked from the meager fall light by a curtain, one stem withered and died. The other thrived. Why? Same plant.Same soil. Same water.<br />
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After watching the colorful chlorophyll life and death drama for weeks, the universal truth took root in me. It was about choice. The choice we all make.<br />
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Both stems experienced the same suffering. Deprived of life giving water and light, I had watched as one slowly wilted, withered, and died. There is nothing enlightening in that. The inspiration came from the other stem. I noticed it bend. I felt the strain as it literally reached for the light. Over the course of the weeks of fall, it grew. It reached around the darkness until it reached the full light. And so can we.<br />
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We are presented with the choices, both great and small, every day. Many aspects of our lives are constrained by the circumstances of our rooting, and we may be justified in our resentment of being dependent on the care and keeping by forces beyond our influence. But we have a choice. To choose to live. For a plant, that means to reach for the light. And so it is for Us.<br />
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Every day now, the light lengthens. The New Year has begun, and the activity of a new season awaits. Here at the farm, the box of garden seed potting soil are ready. The wool shelves are being cleared, and weather forecasts are watched for a break in the cold. There is shearing to be done. By the time the extended winter ends, it will be lambs that are forecast.<br />
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The light of Ground Hog Day is clearly casting long shadows as I write. It does not trouble me. Because I rest in the darkness of night. And, like winter, the darkness is dispelled by the light.<br />
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Whatever you perceive to be your light, I hope you reach for it. It's your choice. Your life.<br />
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Give Thanks. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. Happy Groundhog's Day. Oh - and Whatever Super bowl Sunday for those who may care.<br />
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Do check back in the weeks to come. I really plan to do better. Ewe's depending on me.<br />
<br />Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-83922408331298343742013-07-26T19:29:00.002-05:002013-07-26T19:29:55.602-05:00Last year.... goneI recently looked back over past posts, and paused to read over "An Oasis of Green" that was posted one year ago. I intended to post again on the anniversary date, but am a few days late.<br />
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What struck me was picture. None of 'Us' has forgotten the long dry spell of 2012. It is often referenced in thought and speech, even now, and not just by us. But I had forgotten the sight of that golden ground. Not sorry I did.<br />
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Its interesting how much color affects us. The colors that surround us are both influencing and telling. The many years spent as a painter made it obvious that you can tell a good deal about someones attitudes and outlook by the colors they choose for their living-in spaces. Likewise, the geographic location influences and is painted with appropriate colors fitting and shaping the environment which we habituate. For Us here in eastern Nebraska, summer is thought to be dominated by green. (No, red is for fall, and football) Green grass, green beans ,green fields. But last year, not so. The spring green quickly paled to an unwelcome gold.<br />
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I wanted to repost that picture here. But the demise of my computer earlier this year left the transferred files of pictures scrambled. It is not to be found. You will have to go back to the original post - July 18, 2012<br />
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Or maybe its not all that bad. Many things in life are best forgotten, or at least the memories dimmed. It was a tough year for everyone, but everything looks a whole lot greener this year.<br />
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Now thats better. The roses have been blooming almost continuously since May. The sheep are grazing the front patch for the second time. The garden is a few weeks behind due to the clod wet spring, and the market customers are growing impatient for tomatoes, but I don't mind. It's all green.<br />
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Yes, its getting dry. The grass matured and begin to fade. We held off planting the oats for pasture, the failure of last years planting still fresh in our minds. The cracks in the ground widened, and dust clouds trailing the few passing cars on the road became familiar once more. We watered the garden and waited. And then it rained. Only 3/4 of an inch, but enough to regain a farmers faith. And the oats were planted.<br />
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With the hay bales lined up on the edge of the field, and the pasture rotation making a second round, just a few showers will get us by. There are ewes to sell that didn't make the grade. (Wool grade, that is) The Keeper lambs are enjoying 'pasture school', being turned out to the back lot for some grazing on the playground. The Feeder lambs spend their days munching and dozing under the trees.All is pastoral here on the farm. And as for Us? The first tomatoes and corn and green beans are official under our belts.<br />
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Here's wishing you all good Mid-summer night dream.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-78465794929186116072013-07-05T20:10:00.000-05:002013-07-05T20:10:00.868-05:00Hay- on the 4th of JulySo its already the Fourth of July. My Mother used to remind us that meant the summer was half over. So yesterday, I took time for a quick look back at the first half.<br />
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That is, after taking care of the picking and washing of produce, as we held the Farmers Market in spite of the Holiday. Mid wash, Don announced that if I was ready, he would put up my washing station. So we did. Pictures and more on that later.<br />
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Our celebration was pretty common day. We went to Market, and a few customers showed up, so it wasn't a total bust. Then we got a sandwich, and drove around town to check out the activity. There wasn't any. At least outside of a few garage-grilling groups of friends and family. So we resigned ourselves to an ice cream cone treat, and went home. There we watched 2 fireworks shows on TV, (much quieter than live), and then a smaller live show courtesy of several neighbors from the front porch.<br />
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The significant entertainment came from the hay. The season of grass this year has been quiet opposite of last, thankfully. The grass was tall from all the timely rains.<br />
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Yes, it was 5 foot high and rising. So tall and thick in places it was difficult to mow, and harder to get to dry.<br />
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So it was raked into windrows, and some turned once, some twice.<br />
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How good it is to see how well it has taken hold, considering the drought of last year.<br />
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In the early afternoon, we walked out to check on the drying windrows.<br />
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It was, indeed, heavy and still slightly wet underneath, especially in the sheltered spots. We rolled some of it over, glancing again at the sky. We escaped the serious rain of earlier this week, and were not looking to welcome more.<br />
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While Don continued rolling over the grass, I was checking out the Mulberries. There are several trees along the north fork of the creek, but the winds have not been kind to the 'berry lover. There were some left, and of course I sampled them all, but found none good enough to inspire me to retrieve the buckets and stained sheets. Sigh. Maybe next year.<br />
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Today, the baler came back, and now 12 more rolls dot the hillside.<br />
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With 8 from the smaller field, and the 20 bought en ones in the yard, and a possible 2 yet to dry, that makes a total of 42, plus the 100 small squares of alfalfa in the barn, even the prospect of an early frost doesn't seem threatening.<br />
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Just to be sure, I checked last Julys posts before I started this one. How bleak it seemed, compared to now. Still rain chances for the days ahead. But, then, the garden has begun to beg for water. Only time will tell. The days of July and August have proved to be cruel.<br />
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But other things are progressing. The older ewes have been sorted off, and may soon be looking for a new home, and possibly a few more productive years in other folds. Today, we sorted the lambs, now divided into Keepers and Feeders. I winced when I counted the Keepers. Can we really support that many sheep? Well, we'll figure it out as we go. We made it through the last year.<br />
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The old timers had a saying they used to apply to the aged, weak, or run down livestock during the cold last of winter. "Gotta be tough, and hang in there. You'll be ok if you can make it to grass."<br />
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It's been a tough year on all of us. But here in the hollow surrounded by fields of corn ever taller, I hold on to the hope that we've made it to grass.<br />
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Keep thinking green everyone. And make hay while the sun shines - even on the Fourth of July.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-89916023181363395042013-06-01T20:43:00.001-05:002013-06-01T20:43:43.691-05:00Entertainment: Farm style<br />
I admit I should be working on something. Well, I guess I really am, because I just put a bowl in the micro to dye. 'Flower' is the color; a mix of orange and reds. And I should start some supper soon, as we are both hungry after our adventurous day out. Where? A few may wonder, and appropriately so, since that this the subject and purpose of this post.<br />
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We went to a farm sale.<br />
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Yeah, for most, it doesn't sound like much for entertainment. But it did have a number of things going for it. Foremost that its predecessor of a few weeks ago was a positive experience. (We made a really good haul at that one.) Plus, its June 1. No heat for sure. In fact, both of us left feeling a little over dressed for the season, but certainly not the weather. The cold wind out of the northwest and occasional drizzle made the heavy jackets and hats welcome gear. Still, there was no snow on the ground either.<br />
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Scheduled to begin at 10:00, the sheep got sent to pasture early, and shorted for time a bit, and still the auctioneers cry was heard from down the road by the time we arrived. We trudged up the road toward the buildings and sound with a few other straggling late comers, and were a little surprised at the possibly sparse crowd huddled in the farm yard.<br />
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A side note here. Farm sales have always been perceived as almost a right of passage to those growing up in farm country. Akin, and often connected to funerals, they long have served as a gathering place for family, friends and neighbors to share memories and memorabilia collected throughout the life of the residents. In keeping with the frugality of farmers, little is passed up form being offered to those in attendance. Actual value or usefulness is a judgment left to the buyer.<br />
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The neatly kept house was old and never considered more than modestly adequate. The sale bill had stated it clearly - the couple had both passed, and the family had decided it was time to disperse the belongings. I however, noticed a few details. The carefully placed benches outside the yard gate. (Of course the yard was fenced.) The scattered rose bushes, most in full bloom, waving greetings from beyond to whomever would take time to notice. I did. They were red, and pink, and one glorious yellow. <i>Yes, they are lovely this year, Mrs. Divis.</i><br />
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Don was getting a number while I watched. We surveyed the lines of equipment. A couple tractors, including one shop-made tractor. They said it was made by one of the sons, and won first place at the 1966 State Fair. Hay rakes, trailers, mowers (I counted 5), elevators, assorted field equipment, and piles of used tires and lumber circled the farmyard. We made our way to the primary objective of the day - the fencing. The panels were not exciting. The rolls of wire held a little more promise.<br />
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The long line of tables heaped with the expected not- so-goods from the household sparked my interest. A box of ladies hats. Unused quilt bats, and wool at that. A few interesting pictures and/or frames. Wool cards. (That was unexpected). I claimed the buyers number, and joined the few standing close to the auctioneer. Don joined the group hovering around the hay rack where the hand tools were twice the age of their new owners.<br />
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I was just in time. A box of trinkets and macrame hangers got no bids, so another box was added. Then another. Oh no - they added the glassware I had my eye on. I hate when they do that. I bid anyway, and for $2.00 the 5 boxes were mine. A lady swooped in behind me as I shoved them further down the table.<br />
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"What were you after?" she boldly asked. "All I really wanted was the glassware," I replied. "Is there something you'd like?"<br />
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"Give you $2.00 for one of those wind chimes." "Sold." Actually, I let her have 2. The macrrame plant hangers 'accidentally' got moved over into the growing pile of a fellow buyer.<br />
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Moveing on down the line, I passed on a few things I really didn't need. Then the picture. It was an old print of a farmstead. The color was still good, and the frame was nice. What! They were already making a pile, and it was on top. Oh well, I could use the two little shelves. But stop already! I bid. I got it. I added the lot to my pile. Don was watching. I knew he was taking deep breaths.<br />
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I stopped the auctioneer short when he added the wool cards to an old radio. "I'll bid on the cards alone!" But others did too. But I won. I carried them back proudly to show my fellow shepherd.<br />
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"Did you buy that last lot for the shelving?" It was the rival bidder on the cards. "No, I only wanted the picture." She picked it up. "This one?" I nodded. "Would you sell me the little shelves?" I gazed at them thoughtfully. "I'll give you $25.00." "Well.... ok," I replied, trying not to appear too eager. She only had $23.00 cash. Close enough I said, before she could back out. But there were two men close behind.<br />
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"I wanted the magazines," one exclaimed. "Me too" said the other. I looked expectantly at both in turn. "I'll give you $5.00" the right one said, and I looked to the left. "Six". He won the bid.<br />
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Don shook his head, and returned to the equipment line.<br />
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And the fun continued. Then there was a lull in the action while they sold items of now interest to us. The fence panels brought way too much for interest. Don did get some rolls of wire, one old but still in the roll. Toward the last, our concern turned to what items would still fit in the van. I ended the bidding with an $8.00 purchase of two metal cabinets. Problem. But, I knew the guy who had bid against me. Yup. I sold him one for $4.00. The better white one slipped in over the wire, and the van door closed.<br />
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At home, I helped unpack my goods. Don got over $200. worth of wire (new price), for less than $50.00. He did well. <br />
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I got: several glass pans and bowls for dyeing: with that purchase was: a nice old set of salt and pepper shakers - with the red lids, but the fancy kind; an old egg timer like my Mother had, that still works; 2 old candy thermometers; a nice little nick-nack cabinet; a very nice cake plate, and possibly more. I got a large 'original oil painting'. - well the frame was worth the dollar. A nice framed mirror with etched glass; 7 oak frames from Olan Mills, still in the boxes; and a couple other large picture frames. The wool cards, AND two wool quilt batts. Plus, a small white metal cabinet, and $35.00 in cash.<br />
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Farm sales used to be work. With Don working, finding time just to go was a major chore. Suddenly, its different. Interesting that this sale so closely follows the last couple weeks of sorting off junk and cast offs, filling the dumpster that occupied the driveway. It was intended to clear room for the construction of the cool room, but we found ourselves saying "we'll do this now, to spare the kids later." No. I won't let it become an obsession. But it was fun.<br />
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Maybe this retirement job has a few unexpected rewards along the way.<br />
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But now its back to business. The Sheep and Wool Festival is next weekend. I have goods to package, fleeces to select. Classes to plan for, and materials to gather. The sheep (as yet unselected, but I voted for the smaller lambs this year. Enough with the rams.) are to pay their visit to the vet for health papers Tues. Much to be done.<br />
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But, the rain has been good. The grass keeps growing. The peas grow by inches each day. Summer begins. And out by my own yard gate, the roses are about to bloom.<i> I think they will be lovely this year</i>.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-57484500907549695772013-05-12T17:12:00.003-05:002013-05-13T00:13:09.395-05:00No Excuses<br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Back to the subject I left hanging in my last post.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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White mother, white offspring who look much like her. (Triplets, at that!)<br />
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Only problem - their father was black. But hey - thats still ok, considering the white gene is supposed to be dominant.<br />
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Meanwhile, in the pen next door is this family.<br />
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That's right. Black mother, 2 white babies.<br />
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White gene dominant? Hmm. Maybe not. These babies had both a black mother and father. <br />
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Pen number 3 - just across the fence, on the same day.<br />
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Yep. White mother, 2 black lambs. Okay, so at least their father was black.<br />
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Things just didn't go as predicted this year. And no, no mistakes were made in pairing mothers and babies.<br />
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So, I turned across the isle, and got a shot of just one more set. <br />
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That's more like it. White mom, black dad, and babies - one of each.<br />
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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.<br />
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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)<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Not exciting, but satisfying in a strange sort of way.<br />
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Now I'm done here for the day too.<br />
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But, there will be more. Another day.<br />
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Happy Mothers day to all of you, from all the Ewes, and Us too.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-43346555851448882672013-04-10T16:42:00.001-05:002013-04-10T16:42:23.347-05:00Seasonal visitors to the farmSo, 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.<br />
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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. <br />
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They made felt, dyed it with kool aid, and made flowers.<br />
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And of course they had to meet some lambs. <br />
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Some even had shown lambs in 4-H, but few had ever seen true black ones. <br />
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I made the green felt for the leaves, and the blue 'vase'.<br />
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The completed bouquet will be sold at the upcoming fundraising event for the ArtVenture program.<br />
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Nice work girls.<br />
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And the title - "Thanks o lot, and maybe next year we'll make Samoa." <br />
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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.<br />
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But Max hadn't! He was mesmerized. Or maybe he was attracted to the similar ears. What a jolly little bunny with lamb.<br />
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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.<br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Visitors are always welcome.<br />
Hope your spring is as 'Hoppy' where you are.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-81920413820245746862013-03-29T16:28:00.000-05:002013-03-29T16:28:48.697-05:00Lambs are 'Marching' onwardThe 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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And a little wooly pinwheel. Or is it a shamrock?<br />
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The next day was better. The singles and their mothers were hanging out together in the sun.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Hope you all have a good one too.<br />
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Happy Easter from all of us........ make that 75 lambs on 53 ewes.... at Ewe And Us.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-972124471399842542013-03-08T13:57:00.000-06:002013-03-08T13:57:04.037-06:00Shearing day delightAs promised, a report on shearing day (s) 2013.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.) <br />
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We loaded the truck with the bagged fleece for the trip to the garage. They didn't all fit.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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. <br />
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Then the commercial sale wool got bagged.<br />
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Yep, its a big bag. Thats an 8 ft ladder.<br />
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For those not experienced in the trade, this is how you get more than a hundred pounds of fluffy wool packed into the bag.<br />
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You stomp it in.<br />
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Meanwhile.......<br />
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Dolly was trying to help.<br />
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She brought us a bottle of water.<br />
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We declined, and went to the house for our drinks.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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The seed order came yesterday too. Maybe a project for the predicted (and sort of hoped for) rainy weekend.<br />
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And, yes, there are still the ewe lambs to shear.<br />
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Its spring on the farm.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-6866702512781477102013-02-24T17:11:00.000-06:002013-02-24T17:11:47.873-06:00Progress and produce in a frosty seasonSo 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.<br />
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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. <br />
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Sheep got sheared, and all or near all are pregnant. That, too, is for another day.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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?"<br />
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The result - said produce is now consumed at Ewe And Us.<br />
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The first few hauls were crates of green beans. A little moldy perhaps, but the girls didn't care.<br />
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What a treat to have green goods in the bunk on a cold January day.<br />
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Then one day, a special treat came in. Watermelon! and cilantro, and collard and turnip greens. And berries, and bananas, apples and more.<br />
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No, thats not a scene from a horror movie, its just watermelon lips on ewe.<br />
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Here is a view of our 'produce' wagon while Don cuts the melons. Notice the waiting line behind him.<br />
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And then came the salad greens - cilantro.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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'.<br />
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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.'<br />
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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.<br />
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<br />Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-23052625697291319602013-01-31T11:52:00.003-06:002013-01-31T11:52:59.552-06:00Its a new dawn.... Don...?How embarrassing. I just missed an entire 3 months of blogging. So sorry readers.<br />
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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.<br />
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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'.<br />
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Some of the 'Could ofs' would include:<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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The fall/Christmas season meant 3 art shows, classes at the Lux, and seasonal sales. Hmm. Maybe thats what I was doing.<br />
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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.<br />
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Should 'ofs include:<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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.<br />
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Its a new day. Bring on the Don.<br />
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And, I'll try to do better with the blog.<br />
<br />Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-90355346109274684542012-10-25T19:08:00.000-05:002012-10-25T19:08:22.081-05:00And 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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And then...... it rained.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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?<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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."Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-29543607877604052172012-10-09T16:54:00.001-05:002012-10-09T16:54:40.868-05:00Rambling on the Island of DrySo here we are. October is nearly half over, and the seasons have quietly shifted. The trees, stressed for much of the summer, were graying with age as the leaves dried out. So I couldn't help but be startled by the bright yellow glow on the ash tree outside the bathroom window.<br />
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I have been distracted, to be sure, these last few weeks. But not sorry. It's mostly been good. A Sunday afternoon art show, complete with modest sales and mystified lookers. Educational, both ways. I enjoy answering the questions (you have sheep!), and talking with the crowd gives me insight to the perspective of the non sheepish. And of course there is always much work to be done. Fencing and feed, fleece and seed.<br />
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I'm done with summer. The thin ice on the tank was almost welcome. A friendly fire for the evening and a warm wool blanket for the bed at night still comfort a modern shepherd. But, alas, something is still missing - the gently patter of rain.<br />
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Thats right. We are still stuck here in an island of dry. Oh, its rained all right. Rained to the north. Showers to the South. Even a decent amount to the East, which only adds to a farmers frustrations. It would seem that our urban neighbors still just don't get it. An inch of rain on their lawns, and they believe hard times are over. Ha. Maybe next year, when they got to the store, they will remember the warnings. But probably not. Uh-oh, I'm already starting to sound a little cynical, and I really don't want to. Whining is still a waist of time and effort, and none of us have any to spare. After all, things will get better. It will rain again. Somewhere. Meanwhile, I finally broke down and watered the lawn, hoping for a brief return of green relief to ensure its survival of winter. <br />
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I suppose I was in a sort of mood like this when I went for a walk the other night. The leaves were in the first yellow blaze, and the sun was already beginning its set when I grabbed my camera and set out the back lane for the meadow.... pasture.... creek. Gosh, I'm still not sure what to call it. The Grass, maybe.<br />
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Dolly, of course, was close behind... out front... all over. She clearly loves having more room to roam. Come, walk with us.<br />
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The sun was setting on the trees along the lane to the north.<br />
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The leaves hung limply in the still evening air, turning golden like ripening fruit.<br />
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The shadows had already reached the trees by the time I approached the far hill. Too late for good pictures, but beautiful and refreshing all the same. I watched the darkness creep across the field, and noticed the darker green line in the grass. Don noticed it the next day, while we worked on the fence. "Why is the grass taller there, and there".... he pointed to along the tree line. I gave my answer, having pondered before. "It's the shade line. Morning..... afternoon..." The difference was profound.<br />
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The chill was noticeable, and with the light fading fast, I started back. I passed a milk weed just opening its pod. Frail fluffy white beauty in the moment, to be hated next spring.<br />
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Golden green and orange brown drifts of leaves were collecting in the safe harbor of the gully under the cottonwood tree. And then, if my soul had not yet been refreshed enough, I found this....<br />
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It was weeks ago that we planted the fall pasture. Seeds of rye and rape and radish and turnip scattered into dust. The forecast of rain was forgone, and dust it remained. And yet, it grew. And weeks later, though it should have been thigh high and grazed short again by now, the tiny seedlings remain. The tenacity and resilience of nature continues to inspire me. <br />
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I passed by the lambs, just to say, "Good evening".<br />
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With the summer we've had, the fall color may be short lived. But for now, at least it makes for pleasant, peaceful chores.<br />
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Thanks for coming with me. I feel better again. The stress of coping with the drought has more than me a little short on patience and enthusiasm. I just keep reminding myself of those tiny little sprouts soaking up dew and waiting. Waiting for more. While I, on the other hand, already have much. Much more, this week.<br />
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Namely, little Maxwell Simon McClure, who joined the family on Oct. 2. A healthy little potential helper at 9 lb 12 oz, our 4th grandchild, and the first male of the generation born to carry the McClure family name.<br />
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So at least we are not alone on the isle of dry. And the wool and the radishes comfort me. I will wait a little longer for the rain. While I watch the oak trees take their turn with color. Already the ashes have dropped their leaves into pools of yellow at their feet.<br />
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Enough words for today. There is a fire glowing in the stove, its warmth softly calling. And a forecast with mention of rain come weekend. Only chances, but I will wait.<br />
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I'll believe it when I hear it. On the roof.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-87232921622487134042012-09-06T14:58:00.001-05:002012-09-06T14:58:11.475-05:00Leaves of green and the frugal (desperate) shepherd.Vines of good intention still bear no fruit.<br />
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<br />I can say that. At the moment it's directed at politicians and those who so easily join their ill-informed chants and rants, (which I'm tempted to comment on, but I can only handle so much...) but it's not really judgmental, since I am just as guilty. I have intended to blog several times, as things have been happening, but other things keep distracting me. I think I'm safe in blaming it on the heat. Or because my brain is dehydrated. <br />
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Although..... it did finally rain. We felt exceptionally blessed to get 1.3 in one damp Saturday. Felt even better on Sunday when we compared gauges with some neighbors, and found most got less. And, even 10 days later, the thin layer of wet long gone, the effects are readily seen. I'll get to that later. First - a picture story of how a frugal shepherd deals with the drought.<br />
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Anything green here is getting hard to find. That includes feed for the sheep. The creek patches have been picked clean, even the trees within 4 ft. of the ground. So we resorted to a trick from Brother Tim up at Camp Eat-a-lot-o-greens. If the ewes can't reach the leaves on the trees, you reach for the chain saw. And the result-<br />
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A truck load of greens. Actually, 2 truck loads. From where?<br />
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All those pesky volunteers in the fence line. Been intending to cut them for years.<br />
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So we hauled them into the lot, and decided while we were at it, we'd do a little taste test with the girls. Tree branches( a variety of oak, elm, mulberry, and ash) or corn. (very expensive corn, but they're worth it)<br />
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And - they're off - looks like 50 -50 at first.....<br />
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Or maybe not..... there's more coming for the corn....<br />
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And it's a clear choice. Gold over green. But the branches were stripped bare a half hour later.<br />
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As reported in a previous blog, the decision was made to cut the new grass to both remove the weeds and salvage as much hay as we could. We weren't sorry.<br />
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Weeks and a little rain later, I am amazed once more at the tenacity of grass. The mowing was almost painful for all of us, but short lived. Within a few days, the field was showing green once more. New blades were cutting their way up through the tan stubble.<br />
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And the hay? Well, there wasn't much. But the ewes are tearing through it. Which led to the next problem. There wasn't any to be found.<br />
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We called all the neighbors, but they had none. Some were concerned that they didn't have enough themselves. The price was going up almost daily.<br />
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So, in desperation, I went back to Craigs's list.<br />
It wasn't pretty. Obvious scams were going on. There was some hay out there, but the picking were slim. A couple promising leads, but it was already sold.<br />
I started checking multiple site listings every couple hours. And after a few days of that, it wasn't much fun any more. Then, one last check for the night, and I found something - posted 30 minutes ago. It was late, but they got a call anyway. Arrangements were made to go look at it the next morning. Finally, some better luck.<br />
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It wasn't exactly what we were hoping for, but it looked and smelled ok. And if delivered and affordable, the girls will just have to learn to like it. With a hefty check as deposit, we both have slept better since.<br />
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With a good start to the week, we hope the rain will fall along with the temperature by the weekend. The 3.9 grand kids will be here on Sunday. Little feet will be trampling those tiny blades of green barely visible in the gray-brown lawn. Not worried about the grass though.<br />
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They say that stress of a dry spell makes the roots go deeper still. Maybe that's what I've been feeling. My farm roots go deep alright.<br />
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Chance of showers tonight. Hope some pass your way.<br />
<br />Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-24002007320568135702012-08-10T14:39:00.000-05:002012-08-10T14:39:01.063-05:00Listen closelyI woke suddenly this morning. The birds were already heralding the dawn. Don groaned briefly, and bolted out of bed. It was already after 5:00. That in itself was unusual, as was the short conversation that followed; options for getting rid of some of the abundance of cherry tomatoes left over from yesterdays market. As he softly tread downstairs, I rolled over, and wondered what had woke me. And it hit me again - the breeze from the open north window beside me. I was COLD! It was refreshing, to be sure, but I pulled up the blanket anyway, enjoying its comfort at long last. Oh blanket, how I have missed you.<br />
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It didn't last long. Not able to sleep any longer, I got up. The coolness had stirred brain cells gone dormant with the heat. While the coffee brewed, I flung open the windows. My cup was especially good this morning, with feet carefully tucked behind the couch cushion, with the only breaking of silence bird song. I love September mornings........ brrrrrrrrrpt. - wait a minute.... but its still early August! <br />
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I've always been a believer that animals talk to us. Nonverbal language perhaps, but effective enough communication for a few wise enough to take time and care enough to listen. My favorite book from early childhood? "Charlotte's Web", but of course.<br />
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Many I've talked with recently have noticed the signs. The 'old wives tales' and Indian lore that supposedly fortels the coming seasons. I first noticed the morning fogs of May. Others have heard them too. The cicadas too early in June. Both indications of frost, and coinciding in early or mid September.<br />
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Still in the midst of unusual heat and drought of the summer, its hard to grasp. Until you look at the crops. And hear the talk of silage and early harvest. And there was the brome that headed out in early June, as if it knew the rains would soon cease. Maybe the earth has been whispering all the while.<br />
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"Hind sight is always 2020" the old saying goes. But also "Mother Nature always knows". Most had poor lamb crops this spring, the Ewes and Us included. The mild winter was blamed. Or did the flock know the grass would be short by the time the lambs were grown; that this was not a year more mouths would be as welcome.<br />
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I made good progress in the coolness this morning. Out door to-do's finally got done. And the forecast is even encouraging. Maybe. Lows tomorrow in the 50's! More September mornings. Hmmm.<br />
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Outside chore list nearing the end, I finally went to tackle the kitchen. While washing the pile of pans from yesterdays baking, I noticed it. Back again. The pesky spiders have invaded. The webs brushed aside are replaced in hours. They do this every fall. ....... it's as if it were September. Charlotte speaks to us in a webby whisper....<br />
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Is anybody out there listening?Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-14581056145707240972012-08-06T16:13:00.000-05:002012-08-06T16:13:27.487-05:00Promises, promises<br />
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The forecasters are trying to be hopeful. They try to make rain chances of 20 and 30% sound good. But I'm good enough at math to understand that even a 30% chance of rain - showers rather- means its a 70% chance of nothing. Still, when the sky appears like this, you have to hold out hope.<br />
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<br />Pretty huh. Makes me remember things.<br />
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The last couple of weeks have been full of remembering. <br />
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Shortly after my last post, (and possibly partly because of it) I had a visit from Grant, from NPR. They are doing a series on 'My Farming Roots' in conjuncture with Harvest Public Media, and wanted an interview. Of course I said yes. As it often turns out, I was the party that benefited the most.<br />
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Grant was a likeable young man, and asked the appropriate questions. Of them, for me at least, the most thought provoking was a simple one. "Do you ever think of them - your great and grandmothers - while you are going about your everyday work?" he asked. Pause. "Well, yeah, I guess I do."<br />
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But it was later that it hit me. I began connecting with my roots much more in the last few years. The stories of my Great-great grandmother amazed me. I remember a bit about my Great grandmother. But suddenly, I got it. Maybe its the atmosphere. The effects of the deepening drought and my awareness of it has provided the perfect setups. <br />
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As we stood discussing the fate of the new seeded grass, and the decision to be made - to hay, to graze, or do nothing as a least harm effect - I thought of my Great-great grandmother Sarah, a widow homesteader with 15 children. I could almost feel her standing there behind me in the tall grass.<br />
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The other evening when the shadows covered the garden, I went to pick the tomatoes. At least something in the garden is doing well. I filled the first bucket, moped the sweat from my eyes, and went into the vines again. And again. And the sight of the row of 5 gallon buckets heaped with large red rounds made me remember the photo of my great grandmother seated among the heaping bushel baskets so long ago.<br />
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Last week, the buzz in the news became the drought. Record number of cattle being sold. Record corn prices. Hay shortages. Yesterday, the neighbor came to mow the hay. You do what you think is best. Or what you have to do. This morning I walked a letter to the mailbox, and got a closer look at the sparse dry grass lying dusty and gray on the stubble along the road ditch. And I remembered the stories my Mother told of herding the family milk cows along the dusty roadsides in the 30's, because it was the only feed they had. And how one day the government came, and 'bought' the cows, including Rosie, her favorite, and took them out to the edge of a large pit they had dug, and shot them. And with them died the small cream check, their only dependable income. And I got it. I think I finally understand why my mother never milked a cow again, and why she secretly hated being a farmers wife.<br />
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I realize now that my roots go way deeper than I ever imagined. Thanks to Peggy and HPM, and Grant and NPR. I know that even the new seeded grass holds onto the promise. On the surface, we are all dry and brown and gray. Some won't make it. We may have to re-seed come spring. We will if we have to. But some roots run deep, and they'll make it through. Its a promise.<br />
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<br />Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-70675805254138509672012-07-18T16:35:00.000-05:002012-07-18T16:35:21.197-05:00A small oasis of greenWell here it is. 'It' has arrived. I'm not sure if it is a real drought, or just a normal dry spell, but it can no longer be ignored.<br />
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It crept in on us quietly, as all dry spells do. The signs were there all along, but just last week I began to notice the serious ones. The small clouds of dust rising around boot and paw with a mere walk across the yard as Don and Dolly on their way to get the ewes in for the night.<br />
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The heat has been oppressive, but we managed one more post hole. The heavy auger only 10 days before had easily bored through sod and soil, now groaned and slipped, slicing slowly through the hard clay, and it took several drops to reach the required depth. The sight of the small pile of dusty ground surrounding the black hole raised eyebrows, and an exchange of looks. Not even enough dirt to set the post.<br />
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So when the opportunity arose to take a painting job, I did. Hard work, but in air conditioning. And cash to buy more hay. So the last week or so has been on a time schedule. Work, water, home, move the water. Rescue the wilting. Keep the tanks full. Do what you have to do.<br />
<br />I admit I dislike these discouraging times. Times when the balance of sun and wind and water gets all out of wack, and with it the spirits and resolve of the people who must live with and in it. But to whine is a waste of time.<br />
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If you choose to live on and off the land, as farmers do, you must come to both expect and respect it. It's just a cycle, like all of life. We humans tend to like schedules and predictability. Mother Earth prefers spontaneity and surprise.<br />
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Then this morning, I went to get water for coffee. And in the view from the kitchen sink, this is what I saw. An island oasis of green surrounded by a sea of dry grass.<br />
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The garden. A remnant of Eden reserved for the nourishment and comfort of mankind. Thanks to the water.<br />
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A closer inspection is more telling of the true abundance. Tomatoes, 6 feet tall and rising, and heavy with clusters of fruit (but resisting the turning to red). Peppers and eggplant dripping with tentacles of yellow and purplish black. Beans challenge the neighboring zinnias in a contest of bloom and beauty. Thanks to the water.<br />
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So to keep on the positive side, in this season of dryness, I choose gratitude. Thanks to the well men who came when called, and laid needed new pipe and hydrants. Thankfulness for the water deep under the dust. <br />
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I appreciate that water. Perhaps more than most. Because I grew up on the edge of the sand hills, and early learned of its silent life-giving presence beneath. And now the threats to that water are growing by pipelines, pollution, and politics. And whether it comes from above or below, it is essential to all of us. <br />
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As my Mother often said, quoting my grandmother no doubt, 'This to shall pass.' In but a few short months it is now predicted, we may be lamenting the cold and snow. Because we are human, and it is our very nature to go against our 'Mother.<br />
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Pray for rain, if you are so moved. Your prayers will be answered in time. I will lift my glass, now filled to the brim, with clear, cold, water, in gratitude. And the AC. While I watch the western skies with hope, and humbly wait for the rain. Because I am a farmer.<br />
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May the rain soon fall softly on your fields, and replenish your hearts.<br />
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<br />Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-73561645154731949792012-07-01T13:29:00.003-05:002012-07-01T13:30:54.329-05:00Feel'in like RipYawn. stretch. ! Uh oh. Where am I? what day is it? JULY 1 !<br />
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What happened to June? Was I sleeping? I'm not tripping on a beard or anything, but I do feel a little like Rip. Rip Van Winkle that is. But wait - its all coming back to me now.<br />
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Yeah- June was kind of like a nightmare all right. Good, but in a blurr.<br />
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There was a trip to pick up items from the show in GI. Didn't win anything, but did sell a piece.<br />
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Then packing and the trip to the Iowa Sheep and Wool Festival. That was enjoyable as usual. Always nice to work with like minded sheep and fiber people. Ate lamb 3 times in 2 days. Taught a class of delightful students, and all of us had a good time. No floods this year, but it was hot. Glad the whole barn remembered their fans. Sales may have been down, but the exchange of info among the vendors was great. Wish we could have come home with less rams, but that's the way it goes. Picture won the contest again this year, so that was a bonus.<br />
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Working on a class schedule for a felted ornament family class at the Lux for December.<br />
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Garden has exploded. Tomatoes look like flowering plants, and lots of green fruit. Cucumbers and zucchini need picked every other day. Beans are on the increase. First planting of corn is tasseling. One eggplant, 2 peppers in the bag. Now if the market customers would increase the same.<br />
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We did have a first this week. A customer came back to proclaim we had the BEST Swiss Chard he had ever eaten. I guess thats an achievement. (we tried, but appreciation of even the BEST fell short to our palates)<br />
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Fencing is commencing. Slowly though. Of course its always 100 degrees on the days Don has or takes off when we can work on it. And, as is typical for June, our absence has put us behind. The weather predictions are not encouraging. We have resigned ourselves to a summer of sweat.<br />
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Then there was the family reunion. My family. (Well, and a short drive and a few hours with Don's brother)<br />
As expected,' interesting ' is good word for a summation. And Hot, windy, cramped, stuffed (food).<br />
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A few noteable quotes from the weekend:<br />
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"Spray them? I have several times, and they're still here."<br />
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"Catch' em quick!" (kid, chip, napkins, lawn chair, - whatever)<br />
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"One, two, three, four!" ( Braydon counting the cabins)<br />
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to assembly of ages on the grass - "Have you heard about the chiggers down here?"<br />
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yeah. It was interesting. I passed up my 40th class reunion to be there. From what I've heard, I don't think they even missed me.<br />
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It did leave me with a renewed sense of gratitude though. And a deeper understanding everything is a choice. Not just a choice of where we choose to go, or what we do but of who we choose to be.<br />
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Whether we look forward or behind. That its true that you can't control what happens to you, only how you react. And who you are shows in those reactions. I know if the old debate of 'nature vs. nurture' ever comes up, I now know which team I'll be on.<br />
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And now here it is July.( But it looks and feels like August). But first, there are things to do. Birthdays, anniversaries, more birthdays, county fairs, the Farmers Market of course, and oh dear, more fence.<br />
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Must feed my sheep.<br />
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Much more in my head that needs to be said. Soon, I hope.<br />
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May your summer be as abundant as the blessings 'round here.<br />
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No summer slumber, Rip<br />
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<br />Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-53313128712685756872012-05-23T08:34:00.000-05:002012-05-23T08:34:27.016-05:00Looking both waysThings are looking good here at the Farm. The recent 1in plus rain was needed. Last night and again today, there was and will be a mad scramble of picking and planting before the predicted stormy season arrives. The garden is already in early production phase. Strawberries, rhubarb, snap peas, new potatoes, radishes, lettuce, spinach, and the new experiment in Swiss Chard have passed into harvest mode.<br />
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Out to the north, the Sheep are now grazing the first patch of oats. Full sheep are happy sheep. and it didn't take long to train them to the fence. By day 3, none of them were even coming close.<br />
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So - on to days subject.<br />
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I am a 'fan' of Harvest Public Media on Facebook, and had taken an interest in their special with NET about Hispanic farmers in Nebraska. It aired last Friday night. It came on before I got out the door, and I found I couldn't leave the couch. It was interesting -as expected. But the thoughts and feelings it aroused in me were not.<br />
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I had watched some of the video clips linked to those posted on FB, so I had an idea of the story. More Nebraskans need to hear and see what has quietly been happening happening out-state. I was aware, but not to the extent the local culture has shifted. And no, its not what some believe. Change has always been hard. And for both sides. But thats not for today.<br />
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As I watched and listened, particularly to one story more local - outside Lincoln, they said - about a farmer on 2 acres, with a calf, some goats, and a few chickens, I felt a strange sense growing inside. I couldn't identify it at first, but it was growing. The show ended (I was disappointed there was nothing about the horse trainers I had seen in the video clips - they were amazing), and I went outside to attend to my chores. but the feeling was still there.<br />
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I watched the sheep race through the 'woodland gap' (the windbreak) in from the pasture. I filled the water tanks. And I thought. And somewhere in there, it occurred to me - the feeling was resentment. I felt bad, feeling hostility toward those hard working emigrants, who I full knew were pursuing dreams I understood so well. Aha! There it was.<br />
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Through the night, and into the next day, it became clear. But not until I looked back.<br />
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In 1975, Don and I were newly married, farm raised kids, with 2 college degrees in agriculture, and eager to stake our claim - as farmers. We found 40 acres of gently sloping farmland, made a plan to raise sheep and vegetables, and went to the only likely source of financing - then called Farm Home Administration. Granted, sheep were little recognized as financially viable, and vegetables? They would have to be marketed to restaurants and smaller grocery stores. Farmers markets were yet unknown. We filled out papers, and made our plea. A few weeks later, a letter came. Rejection. They didn't think it would work. Discouraged, but not defeated, we modified our plan, and 3 years later planted our now little family on 5 acres.<br />
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Fast forward 35 years to today. Where we own a small farm where we raise sheep and vegetables. So why the resentment? - other than the obvious time and much work? And the struggle to be recognized as 'farmers' on so many levels. As female. With sheep. And vegetables. On only 5 acres. The struggle with neighbors, the public, and County, State, and national government to establish ourselves as 'real'. It took a long time, a lifetime almost, but we did it. Without help.<br />
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And the resentment? Well, now days there are all these programs. Community Crops, Beginning Farmers, grants, and now an focus on loans to Minorities and women? Hmmmfp.<br />
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Wait....... Could it be that things are changing? Maybe. I hope so. I hope the changes will be of benefit, and not just more red tape and regulation. I hope the help gets to those who need it.<br />
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Maybe, just maybe, (I may be thinking this as self consolation), we have helped in some small way. Like our ancestors, we have been pioneers, unknowingly. Re-claiming a homestead. Breaking ground for a new way of farming and farmers.<br />
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I do not resent the individuals. Empathize more like it. I saw my own reflection in those dark eyes. <br />
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Thanks HPM. Keep telling the stories. <br />
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They may be differed, delayed, detoured, and discouraged, but dreams should never die.<br />
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Farm on.<br />
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<br />Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-80346291669534117912012-05-03T11:47:00.000-05:002012-05-03T11:47:56.433-05:00Stuck in the Middle -AgainThe backdrop of thoughts for this post began last week. I took a day to drive out to Grand Island to deliver entries to the Prairie Wind Art Center for the Miniature show, so once again I had a good 3 hours for some think time. Always productive, this time I found the images and resulting pondering confusing and irritating. As a result, I put off putting anything down in letters, fearing my impulse would likely offend someone. Likely still will, but a post on Facebook by Harvest Public Media has sparked the urge once more. So, I will start with a disclaimer - This blog is only my opinion, which I have formed around my observations and personal experience. It is not intended to be critical of any individuals or groups, or of their respective opinions or stances.<br />
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It was a pleasant sunny day, and the interstate traffic was slowed into single file a good bit of the time by the dreaded orange cones. The need of men and machinery was apparent, and no one seemed to mind much. And of course the wind was blowing. I have been reminded of treks down this same stretch of road from 35 years ago, when the turn off at GI marked the half way mark home. That much hasn't changed. Neither of these was the source of my irritation. Rather, it was political.<br />
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The seasonal ads had planted the seed. Its primary season, and the vitreous messages pouring from every media outlet are as nauseous as ever. I never have taken to the black/white love/hate all or nothing tone of politics, but I have learned some selective hearing skills, and usually can deal with them. Until the Mommy Wars. One quote, and the monster was released.<br />
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It bothered me. Memory serves me well from 35 years ago when it was fresh - for my generation at least. And in the past 3 years I have watched as my offspring discuss and adjust to find balance in the arena of finance and parenting, the difficulty the same, though decisions different. That alone was unsettling, but there was more.<br />
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I was thinking of the pieces I had just left at the Gallery. A picture of prairie. A ewe with twins. Stately Hereford bull. And a girl touching heads with a dark bay horse. How as a group, they make a statement about not just who I am, but where I came from. And not just me, but agriculture.<br />
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The panorama of the Platte was impressive that day. Flatland. Horizon broken only with the outlines of tree lines of villages. The grayish band hovering between earth and sky was dust. An occasional plume of that dust could be traced back to a dot of red or green. Planting. Tractors as big as small houses for the most part, but a few 'small' farmers, the planters small enough you could easily count the rows. Giant dust devils: larger and more numerous than I have seen in years, were frequent, and recent headlines swirled around in my mind. <br />
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Then, this morning, one line caught my eye. <b>"or are you in the Middle</b>" And it all made sense. I'm back in the Middle again. Only this time, its Ag War. Does anyone else see it coming? I really hope its just me.<br />
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An explanation is probably in order here. I will use the Mommy Wars as an analogy. There, is issue comes down to Work and Daycare vs Stay at home Moms. Add on all of the associated issues of cloth or disposables, store bought or home made, and quality vs quantity, and you have enough ammunition for a major battle. Of course, both sides have valid points as well as the same claim of the over all well being of the child as the long term objective. But experience and time has shown me that neither 'side' is entirely right nor wrong.<br />
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So, on to the Ag Wars. It has come to my attention,( possibly amplified by media - social and conventional,) that a divide is occurring. You can almost divide the news articles by title. Pink slime, grass fed, Organic, GMO, animal welfare, cage free, and on and on. And I won't mention the government here. The problem I sense that is coming is not that people are taking sides according to their personal beliefs, as that is to be expected: rather, that there are flags being planted, and ground claimed. (Pun intended.) But just like Mommies, there is no one best position. <br />
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I find it troubling. Words and names are being ostracized and often vilified. Chemical, Monsanto, pesticide and the like on one side, but so are Organic, green, and humane from the other. I'm not sure if either side gets it.<br />
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I could back up my apprehensions, but I'm not sure if anyone will even buy it. Meanwhile, I am, as they say, riding the fence. I am taking the stand, much as I did in the Mommy wars, that both sides are right. It comes down to choice. What sacrifices you and your kin are willing to make. But you do what you have to do to make it work. Most will fall in the middle. Financial and economic factors must be considered, and perhaps even drives the issues. But even that coin has two sides.<br />
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Politically, I get confused trying to assign red and blue to individual issues. Maybe because each side of the coin is either red or blue. Then when you toss them into the air, and they spin around together, the vision becomes purple. Yeah. I think I like that. Only I don't like being red on one side blue on the other. I'm a painter. I'd rather just mix them up inside, they already are, and be purple.<br />
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It is my personal opinion that the Ag industry and its people can not afford to take side against each other. If, like all the Mommies out there, we must keep the over all well being of the land as our objective. I think thats a given. Name calling leads to bullying, and we can all agreed that's not good.<br />
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I'm in the middle all right. I see valid arguments from both sides. But wars are a waste of resources of both sides. Resources both sides claim a need to conserve. I don't think its the same 'Middle' that was meant, but thanks for the use of the word.<br />
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Thanks also for the focus to rant. Next time, I hope my post is more positive. After all, its growing season. Guess some thoughts could use some cultivating now and again too.<br />
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Think green, and put down some new roots.<br />
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<br />Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5862336881490307959.post-31494718269602125492012-04-12T14:11:00.006-05:002012-04-12T15:14:40.434-05:00Showers welcome<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UvljpicRQB0/T4cwW2A6nRI/AAAAAAAAA6s/amVPUtEhVGg/s1600/S7304292.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UvljpicRQB0/T4cwW2A6nRI/AAAAAAAAA6s/amVPUtEhVGg/s320/S7304292.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730602219866856722" border="0" /></a> It's spring planting time. So with new acres, we got in line, and managed to get the no-till planter to plant grass and temporary pasture. Don was already home on 'lambing vacation', and the weather was good, so there was a whole lot of seeding going on.<br /><br />By planting into the corn stalks, the soil surface was undisturbed, and the stalks act as mulch. Just because we aren't organic, doesn't mean we don't aim to be sustainable.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PseTG9rcYlM/T4cwWhINL6I/AAAAAAAAA6g/iSr9nuh79GA/s1600/S7304290.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PseTG9rcYlM/T4cwWhINL6I/AAAAAAAAA6g/iSr9nuh79GA/s320/S7304290.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730602214260289442" border="0" /></a>I got to be the 'seed tender'. (Which means I drove the truck to the field).<br /><br />After a good deal of research, we selected a mix of grasses and legumes for a well rounded pasture that can be hayed or grazed depending on the growth and season.<br /><br />We couldn't help but note that there is very little information about sheep. Everything is based on cattle or horse forage needs and preferences. But I guess we expected that.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IelseueEVnY/T4cwXLU8YLI/AAAAAAAAA64/nJ7Wuy0PE8k/s1600/S7304293.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IelseueEVnY/T4cwXLU8YLI/AAAAAAAAA64/nJ7Wuy0PE8k/s320/S7304293.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730602225588002994" border="0" /></a>It may have been March 27th, but it was 80 degrees and sunny. Plums in full bloom, and the trees showing a hint of green.<br /><br />In this patch, we sowed oats for temporary pasture. And then began the wait for rain.<br /><br />The first chances didn't happen. Only a sprinkle.<br /><br />The round green spots of the legumes began to show. Then the faint hair thin blades of grass began to emerge. Germination was good, but the hot dry days were making us nervous.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RKVvffr78-s/T4cutv7skMI/AAAAAAAAA6I/ncyBGIpqRpw/s1600/S7304327.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RKVvffr78-s/T4cutv7skMI/AAAAAAAAA6I/ncyBGIpqRpw/s320/S7304327.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730600414348087490" border="0" /></a>But maybe today, the spell is breaking. Only a nice shower so far, but anything is welcome, and the chance for rain is on the board for 3 more days. I think maybe this is why farmers turn gray.<br /><br />Meanwhile, back at the barn, the lambs continue. The first run of twins ended abruptly, and mostly singles has become the norm.<br /><br />I'm impressed every year by how the color markings on the lambs so closely resemble those on horses. This is 'Blaze'. At least for the time being.<br /><br />As the next generation of lambs emerge, its always a surprise. This year is no exception. With the addition of a new bloodline into the flock this year, we thought we had the basic genetic pattern figured out. Wrong. Of course a black lamb born to a white mother is not new. In fact, it has happened about 50 % of the time if the sire is black. So we had thought it was a simple recessive gene at work, even though we have been told it is not. Some times the 'book' is right. This year, we have had black lambs that should have been white, and white ones that should have been black - 2 black parents. Ah, well, that's farm life.<br /><br />More rain, please. <br /><br />Happy grazing to ya.Ewe and Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16358130436171848301noreply@blogger.com0