Meet the Lambs

It's been two weeks since we finished lambing. (Hurrah!) Everyone's out on pasture and doing great. I tried to take a video of the two lambs I'm supplementing with bottles running toward me, and then feeding them. 

Two hands holding three things? I held one bottle between my knees, and one in my hand, while I filmed with my camera in the other hand. I kept dropping the bottles, frustrating the hungry lambs, and I ended up holding the camera backwards so I photographed my t-shirt instead of the lamb. 

Gaack. I should stick with still photos. Speaking of which, here are a few....

Duck Drama

Sunday was a bad day. Melissa broke the fence containing the steers, so she and Mary had to move them to a new pasture in the pouring rain. Later a neighbor brought his riding lawn mower for us to use (both our mowers are broken) and just started mowing himself. Pleased, I went on to other things, then remembered I'd left a net fence down in the grass near the vineyard. Would he mow up that way? About the time I'm thinking this, he hits it with his mower. He had to take the deck off in order to free his mower from plastic and fence wire wrapped around his blade. Totally my fault. Gaack. Luckily the mower wasn't broken.


Then his dog startled our duck, Mr. Bodgepie, and Bodgepie took flight, heading south. He didn't come back.


The next day, still no Bodgepie. Today Melissa leaves a message for a farmer who lives about a mile to the south (as the duck flies.) He called back late this afternoon. This morning he'd seen what he thought at first was a bald eagle, then he realized it was just a really big duck.


I drive three miles to the general area, a narrow road that follows the Zumbro River as it snakes through pasture and plowed fields. I'm scanning the trees, the road ditches, then happen to look up and see, way the hell out toward the river, a black and white spot.


I race home, get the binoculars, then race back. Sure enough, it's Mr. Bodgepie, perched on a dead tree about 10 feet out into the river. Crap. The Zumbro is fast and dangerous. I stop by the farmer's house and determine the pasture bordering the river is his, and I get his permission to walk out to the duck. 


The grass is long, over my knees, and crawling with wood ticks just waiting to creep onto me, but I must try. I don't want to face Melissa--who loves that duck---without trying. So I crawl through the barbed wire fence with a container of cracked corn, and begin the long trek through the unfamiliar pasture toward the river. I get as as far as I can, about 20 feet from the river, then hit muck so soft I start to sink. I talk to Bodgepie, but he just stands there on his log. I don't think he can 'take off' because he needs more real estate for that. He's a duck, so he could swim to shore, but I'm not sure he knows that.


I dump out all the corn on the ground, thinking that might entice him onto shore, and hike back to the car. Melissa won't be home for awhile, but she won't be able to do anything since without a boat, there's no way to reach him.


I'm fairly convinced this story won't have a happy ending. We'll either return and find him gone, or be unable to rescue him and something larger will eat him. 

I share this story because sometimes it's so easy to think that farm life is all cuddly babies and cute calves. It's also animals getting themselves beyond reach, through flight or accident or disease. 

Farmers, whether they're aware of it or not, do a lot of letting go.

Zoomin' Lambs

Our friend Mary spent five days here---feeding baby lambs and calves, planting flowers, fixing stuff. Let's hear it for friends with energy!


Mary managed to whip out her phone and catch these guys as they were zooming around.  Too cute... 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLvBBHe1u1g&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Elvis in the Office

What's in a writer's office? Secret stuff.
My 'stuff' has many themes. Here's one.

Yes, I know, I know. It's a bit much.
I have a problem.
But isn't admitting that half the battle?

Sheepish about suggesting a book review

I like that my friends and acquaintances don't spend oodles of time writing reviews for amazon.com. You all lead rich, busy lives. This is good.

That said, the Sheepish entry on amazon.com looks a bit forlorn without reviews, and I know my editor's going to be telling me any day now that I need some reviews up there.


So if anyone's so inclined, I'd appreciate it. 

(Of course, if you feel a need to post a negative review, I don't think you have time. You're way too busy. Thanks anyway!) 

A Rising Moon Farm Monday

Here's my Monday.

6:30 Rise. Put on chore clothes (stained with blood and milk replacer and dirt, with bits of straw stuck in the cuffs.)

6:30-7 am.  Feed myself. Feed dogs

7:45--8 am. Mix up milk replacer and feed bottle lamb up in big barn. Check to see if any ewes are in labor.

8:00--8:30. Mix up milk replacer and feed three calves. Feed chickens.Clean out bottles and clean up kitchen. Change into regular clothes (sort of clean-ish jeans.)

10 am. Drive to Pine Island to buy milk replacer and sheep mineral.

10:30 Drive to Zumbrota to buy cracked corn for chickens.

11:30--12:30. Change into chore clothes. Mix up milk replacer and feed bottle lamb again. Feed and water sheep. Check to see if any are in labor. Water the steers. Make sure they haven't broken something or been excessively creative in their naughtiness. Clean out bottles and clean up kitchen. Change into regular clothes.

2- 2:30 pm. Change into chore clothes. Mix up milk replacer and feed three calves. Clean out bottles and clean up kitchen. Change into regular clothes.

4-4:15. Change into chore clothes. Mix up milk replacer and feed bottle lamb. Check to see if any ewes are in labor. Clean out bottle and clean up kitchen. Change into regular clothes.

6-6:30 pm. Feed dogs. Feed myself

8 pm. Change into chore clothes. Mix up milk replacer and feed bottle lamb. Check to see if any ewes are in labor. Mix up milk replacer and feed calves. Put chickens to bed. Clean out bottles and clean up kitchen. Change into regular clothes.

8:30. Feed Melissa when she gets home from work.

9:30 Change into chore clothes. Climb into bed.

No, wait, that's not right..... Hang on, I'll get it. Just give me a minute.



Okay, got it. Change into pajamas and climb into bed.

I'll bet you thought I was losing it, didn't you? Nah. I've got everything under control.

It's Raining Babies

Babies everywhere. Two long nights---up until 3 am. Acck. Melissa and I have bags under our eyes, and feel as if we're about to tip over.  But we have babies....

Meet the Ladies

Hi, my name is 117. I'm getting on in years, so thanks for not photographing my udder.

I'm 704. I'm young. I'm a little skittish. In fact, when my babies are born, I plan to freak out.

I'm 703, and I'm hoping for a spinal blocker. Maybe some Valium or oxycontin. Or put me under and do a C section. Just get these blasted things out of me.

I call myself "Missing Ear Tag" because I refuse to be reduced to a number. I manage to rip out every tag those dang farmers put in my ear.

I'm 707, and sweet as can be.

I'm Orange 1.  Orange? Everyone else has blue or green tags. I don't know what happened that year. The farmers switched numbering systems and I was first in line. If you've read Sheepish, you know me as Black Girl. These farmers don't name their sheep, so they don't have much practice, but really--Black Girl? Just because I was all black as a lamb? Why not Monique, or Laura, or Jessica? 

And I'm Helen. Back off. These blasted eggs can't hatch soon enough. I'm tired of hanging out in this stupid box in the darkest corner of the barn, but it's where I laid the eggs, so I'm stuck here.

Spring on Rising Moon Farm....everyone's a little anxious about the impending babies, including me. Melissa has a full time, off-farm job now, which is making our checkbook very happy.  But this means she won't be around to help with lambing.  If this strikes terror in your heart, it means you've been paying attention to who I am---I've made no secret of it in my memoirs. 

So I have the sheep locked in the three-sided barn (with plenty of food and air and sunshine.) At the first sign of trouble, I'm calling the vet.  I may not be able to deliver a lamb, but I can dial a phone!

Wool Could Keep Soldiers Safer

According to the American Sheep Industry (which is quoting Australian sources), wool has a new use - making body armor even more bullet resistant. Here's the article:

Researchers at the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology (RMIT) school of fashion and textiles discovered that a blend of wool and Kevlar, the synthetic fiber widely used in body armor, was lighter and cheaper and worked better in some conditions than Kevlar alone.

The RMIT textile technologist, Rajiv Padhye, Ph.D., said the standard bullet proof vest was generally made of Kevlar, a dense, strong and expensive fiber. For military use, a heavy ceramic plate provides greater protection over vital areas.

A Kevlar vest typically comprises some 36 layers of Kevlar fabric; however, it loses about 20 percent of its effectiveness when wet, requiring an expensive waterproofing process.

"What we did was kept the Kevlar but added a wool yarn into this," he said.

The increased friction of the wool in a tight weave means a vest comprising 28-30 layers of fabric provides the same level of bullet resistance as 36 layers of Kevlar.

"Because wool fibers expand naturally in water by up to 16 percent, the wool-Kevlar blend actually becomes more effective in wet conditions," he said. "The result is a cheaper bullet-resistant vest that works even better when it's wet."

That's a significant matter, considering Kevlar costs about $70 a kilogram compared with about $12 a kilogram for wool. (Reprinted in part from Australian Associated Press)


Yea for wool! Wool just keeps getting more and more relevant. Makes me proud to be a shepherd. :-) 

Should sheep wear clothing?

This may not be a question that's ever occurred to you, but many months ago, when I received the draft cover for Sheepish, I laughed out loud because the sheep was 'wearing' a lime green hat and a lime green scarf. I loved the cover instantly. This has never happened to me before. I tend to get fussy about covers, urging the company to tweak this or move that.


But when this cover appeared in my email inbox, I was behind it 100%. Then the publisher started to tweak, changing the background color to pale blue, then pale orange. I threw, in highly professional terms, what is known as a hissy fit. The cover remains as it was, untweaked.

Whenever I have a new book come out, I give a gift to those people in the publishing company who've helped it along. This time I wanted to thank Sean in Marketing, Lara in Publicity, and of course, Alex the cover designer. But what to give them? When Hit by a Farm came out I gave people Lambchop puppets. When The Compassionate Carnivore came out, I sent my editor Renee a real shepherd's crook for 'shepherding' me through the process.

The other day I was inspired. Alex (cover designer) dressed a sheep in clothing for my cover, so I would do the same thing for him. I dashed to Rochester and found some lime green yarn. I searched and searched for stuffed sheep, and found them at Toys R Us. Then I knit my very first hat, about two inches high, and a ten-inch scarf.

Sheep actually do wear clothing. They wear coats designed to keep their fleeces free of VM. (Vegetable matter is hay and straw and burrs and other crap they tend to pick up.) 

Lambs wear coats to stay warm. 

Sheep at state fairs need to be kept very clean, so they even wear hoods, which is a little too Klu Klux Klannish for me.

Given that sheep do wear clothing, I guess a hat and scarf isn't all that crazy. 

So I dressed my sheep. Three of these cuties will be heading eastward very soon.

A Farming Author's First Fiber Event

When Hit by a Farm came out, the whole fiber world wasn't even on my radar. Well, it was, but in a "those-people-are-sure-weird" sort of way.


That was then, this is now. Yesterday I was part of Lila and Claudine's Yarn Shop booth at an annual knitting event in the Twin Cities called Yarnover (The yarnover is a knitting stitch, one I actually know how to do.) I had a little table with copies of Sheepish and Hit by a Farm, a few postcards, flyers with an excerpt from Sheepish, and a pen for signing books. I was surrounded by yarn.

When an author does a booksigning at a bookstore, unless she's J.K. Rowling or Stephanie Meyer, she may sell 5-10 books. At a library event, same thing. So when I packed 50 books for this Yarnover thing, I felt stupid. "Who are you kidding, insane woman?"

Ahh, but this was a fiber event. Fiber means yarn, which means wool, which means sheep, which means "we love this!" My buttons that said "get sheepish" were gone in just a few hours. The "get sheepish" bookmarks disappeared soon after that.

By 1 pm I was out of books. Totally. Wow.


Out of books, and out of energy. Partly from talking to people, partly from staring at everyone's knit shawls, sweaters, etc. and wondering if I could ever do that.

Still, it was a fine day. 

Maybe these fiber people aren't so weird after all.