Sorting and 'turn out' day, Oct 24, 2014

Well, after a hectic summer of constant activity, fall came. And here it is, that eventful day in October.

It started out with a lovely sunrise.

But its Oct 24. A nice round number, and marked on the calendar as 'Turn the Bucks out' day.

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.

So it got a trial run in a temporary location. And it worked. The girls even walked right through to the gate. 

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.

 Ewe numbers were already sorted into breeding pens, thank heavens. The girls filed in without much fuss.

And after lunch, each pen got moved to more comfortable accommodations.

And the boys came out.

 Grandpa got his group in the lambing shed.

Sonny and his girls.  (well, this is with the 3 that were interested in him today. There are many more.)

Jean Claude was assigned to the group in the East lot.

And 140 has a group too.

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).

And I managed to get a blog post done. Finally.

I have so many subjects, and so little time. Maybe the colder weather will help settle me in at the computer. Maybe.

# makin' lambies.  Go Rams.   Thanks to Alex for the 'trade'.

And then.......

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

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

And then...... it rained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Showers welcome

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.

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.



I got to be the 'seed tender'. (Which means I drove the truck to the field).

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.

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.



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.

In this patch, we sowed oats for temporary pasture. And then began the wait for rain.

The first chances didn't happen. Only a sprinkle.

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.


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.

Meanwhile, back at the barn, the lambs continue. The first run of twins ended abruptly, and mostly singles has become the norm.

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.

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.

More rain, please.

Happy grazing to ya.

Teacher day

Spring brings the new lambs, which in turn bring visitors to the farm. Yesterday a flock of them came. Allyn and Braydon, and a group of her fellow teachers and their kids came for an outing.

Of course, the newborn lambs were a big hit. There is no age limit on the grins and soft 'ahhhs' produced by a baby lamb.








Of course, when the crowd is here, (especially when they are teachers) the educational process doesn't stop in the barn.

The group got a brief wooly experience too.






Followed by mandatory hand washing before a picnic lunch.





















Which was followed by an Easter Egg hunt in the back yard. Already 85 degrees, fresh mowed grass, and apple trees, spirea, and phlox in full bloom on March 30. Appropriate, yes. Unusual, definitely. A little unsettling actually. No one knows what the season to come will bring.








Everyone had a great time. Especially the Coopworth ewe, who was successful in begging for tidbits of countless small handfuls of fresh plucked grass.

Later in the afternoon, I had 3 teachers from Bellevue come looking for some wool to use in a science project. Of course they had to have the lamb tour too - since they were here.


The lambs continue to arrive. There were 2 more new pens this morning that Don picked up early. The barn is now at capacity, as I penned a set of twins and a single by 10:00. If there is more, I may have to leave them be, or put them in the alley if I have to. Don will be moving some out, even though its a little soon.





Later today I'll be off to Grand Island to the closing reception of the art show, and to bring home the cranes - unless they are sold. Company would have been nice, but Don is at work, and someone needs to be home to pick up lambs. Everyone else is otherwise occupied. But thats okay. Some alone time to think is never wasted on me. There is always another project to be thought out.

And a Happy April Fools.