The little ram is what did it for me. I’ll admit I had a bout of uncertainty about sheep. They are so much work, you see. Their fencing needs are ridiculously high, and this year (unlike last year) I know what I’m getting into. This is what it boils down to: gathering armloads of electric netting, lugging it to a new pasture, laying it out, untangling it, and then putting it up around a new pasture – over and over again. That’s the most labour-intensive part of grazing sheep, hands down. I was mulling over the sustainability of it.
The little ram is what did it for me. I’ll admit I had a bout of uncertainty about sheep. They are so much work, you see. Their fencing needs are ridiculously high, and this year (unlike last year) I know what I’m getting into. This is what it boils down to: gathering armloads of electric netting, lugging it to a new pasture, laying it out, untangling it, and then putting it up around a new pasture – over and over again. That’s the most labour-intensive part of grazing sheep, hands down. I was mulling over the sustainability of it.
But then out of the blue, this little guy appeared on our farm. We think that someone dropped him off. I mean, week-old lamb rams don’t just meander onto a farm. We called all our neighbours, and then we called their neighbours, but no one claimed him. So he’s part of Luna Mia Farm now. He will become our future ram’s buddy, because we discovered the hard way that rams need a buddy or else they can get aggressive. Guess what we called him?
The kids bottle feed Buddy three times a day, and I do the evening feed. The ewes that need scratching come to me while I’m feeding the lamb. The shy ones just look at me from a distance. One ewe in particular, Dandelion, gets into a meditative state whenever she gets scratched behind the ears. Today she zoned out with the most peaceful look in her liquid eyes, completely content.
So there it is. The sheep give something back to the shepherd. I am well aware of my place – I am their servant. I work for them, willingly. I give them my determination, my dedication, and in turn they give me a glimpse of peace. On days like this, some of it rubs off on me.
I’ll take all I can get. I’m not used to the busy season yet. As always, Spring comes with many demands. We are busy shoveling manure out of the barn and into a pile in the barnyard. We don’t have a tractor, but a neighbour will come soon and spread it on our garden beds. And the seedlings need watering, the children need attention, the 30 chicks I brought home yesterday need to be checked on…
The most exciting thing on the horizon is our Intro to Permaculture workshop. It’s coming up in just a few days, and it has drummed up a fair bit of interest, which is heartening. This will be our first workshop offered on the farm. The last time Rony gave a permaculture workshop was at the Mesoamerican Permaculture Institute, back when we lived in Guatemala (“in the olden days”, says our daughter Anina). Our focus here has been on getting the garden to produce food for the family and seeds for Hawthorn Farm. But now it’s time. This will be the first of many workshops, hopefully. It feels good to wake up and talk permaculture pedagogy with Rony over morning coffee.
I won’t bore you with my whole to-do list, but I have some seeds and dye plants waiting to be put up online. And fleeces waiting to be sent out to the mill. All in good time, I suppose. All in good time.
But then out of the blue, this little guy appeared on our farm. We think that someone dropped him off. I mean, week-old lamb rams don’t just meander onto a farm. We called all our neighbours, and then we called their neighbours, but no one claimed him. So he’s part of Luna Mia Farm now. He will become our future ram’s buddy, because we discovered the hard way that rams need a buddy or else they can get aggressive. Guess what we called him?
The kids bottle feed Buddy three times a day, and I do the evening feed. The ewes that need scratching come to me while I’m feeding the lamb. The shy ones just look at me from a distance. One ewe in particular, Dandelion, gets into a meditative state whenever she gets scratched behind the ears. Today she zoned out with the most peaceful look in her liquid eyes, completely content.
So there it is. The sheep give something back to the shepherd. I am well aware of my place – I am their servant. I work for them, willingly. I give them my determination, my dedication, and in turn they give me a glimpse of peace. On days like this, some of it rubs off on me.
I’ll take all I can get. I’m not used to the busy season yet. As always, Spring comes with many demands. We are busy shoveling manure out of the barn and into a pile in the barnyard. We don’t have a tractor, but a neighbour will come soon and spread it on our garden beds. And the seedlings need watering, the children need attention, the 30 chicks I brought home yesterday need to be checked on…
The most exciting thing on the horizon is our Intro to Permaculture workshop. It’s coming up in just a few days, and it has drummed up a fair bit of interest, which is heartening. This will be our first workshop offered on the farm. The last time Rony gave a permaculture workshop was at the Mesoamerican Permaculture Institute, back when we lived in Guatemala (“in the olden days”, says our daughter Anina). Our focus here has been on getting the garden to produce food for the family and seeds for Hawthorn Farm. But now it’s time. This will be the first of many workshops, hopefully. It feels good to wake up and talk permaculture pedagogy with Rony over morning coffee.
I won’t bore you with my whole to-do list, but I have some seeds and dye plants waiting to be put up online. And fleeces waiting to be sent out to the mill. All in good time, I suppose. All in good time.