Monday, January 30, 2012


My memory seems to have completely left the building.  Thanks to peri-menopause I vacillate between giddy happiness and tears.  Sleep is elusive. Irritation too easily found.  

I keep cutting my hands on something at the farm - I have taken to carrying superglue in my barn coat pocket.  Super glue hurts like hell when you squeeze it into your cut. 

The sheep completely destroyed a round bale in less than a week.  Why do they feel it needs to be spread everywhere? Is there a problem with hay being neat and tidy?  
I believe this is the major culprit.  Naomi AKA PigPen.  The other day I found her between the round bale and wall of the shelter.  Wedged in there like a sausage.  She looked like a grass porcupine when she emerged from her cave.  Her fleece is going to be a wreck to spin. 

I am tired of pine bows, pine needles, sticks, branches falling and tripping over things since the storm.  Beth is tired of them too. 

We spread most of the smaller branches out as mud control.  


The sheep enjoy eating them and it has helped with traction. 


Eventually it will all be broken up, but in the meantime it can be tricky to walk on.  


We are renting a chipper and will be taking care of the rest of the mess next weekend.  

Beth is a never ending source of amusement for Jim.  He does not pay a lick of attention to Brynn.  But Beth seems to fascinate him.  I think it is because she is oblivious to him.  He just watches her, has never done anything other than to sniff and watch her with a curious look on his face. He knows she will not hurt his sheep.  

I have Jim pretty much leash trained.  He will let me hook him up to the leash by his collar and lead him around.  I am working on picking up his feet so I can trim his hooves without tethering his legs.  It has been like taming a horse, slow and steady building the trust.  I enjoy that goofy animal.  Never thought I would appreciate a llama's sense of humor before, but he is special.  

The wether formerly named Toby has an appointment with the livestock broker on Wednesday.  That is what happens to naughty uncooperative wethers who do not earn their keep by being workable.  Baa'd lamb.  

Sorry fella, but you are eating too much, costing us money and not doing a darn thing to pay your way - you are a pain in the arse to work and do not play well with others.  

On the other hand his twin Tulip is expecting.  

Tulip is not a 'wool' sheep and does not fit in my breeding program, however she is too adorable to sell.

After the dog attack we had to combine the sheep together with the ram.  We were hoping in the short window they were together she would not be bred, but it seems she has been. 

Thankfully she is over a year old.  I am not happy about letting her breed so young, but it couldnt be helped.  She will be one of the last to lamb in late March.  

Tulip likes to have her nose scritched. 

Tulip's mother Daisy is also expecting.  From the size of her I would suspect she is carrying twins again.  She is no longer shy and comes right up to me to get her neck scratched. 

The other day when I was trying to take close up pictures of the ewes she decided to get up close and personal with me...and my whistle which I had to yank out of her mouth.  (please excuse the motion blur, I had no idea I was pressing the shutter button as I pulled this out of her mouth).  Oops. 

Happy sheep eating tree branches.  

Day's end in the pasture.  

All I need to do to improve my day is spend it in company of sheep.  They never fail to lower your blood pressure and make you giggle.  


Miss Mohawk at your service.  

Have a great day y'all! 

1 comment:

gvmama said...

Like the mohawk and Tulip's name. Too cute. Carry liquid bandaid with you (instead of super glue)