Days 12 through 15: The Running of the Sheep; Creation and Destruction;Market, a Gate, and a New Neighbor; Happy Mother’s Day

Days 12 through 15: The Running of the Sheep; Creation and Destruction; Market, a Gate, and a New Neighbor; Happy Mother’s Day

Thursday, May 5: Sheep Day!

Dear Maine,

Okay, seriously, with the weather. And no offense to Maine weather forecasters, but I really don’t trust a word that comes out of your mouths. I have yet to experience a day that’s been even remotely as it’s been forecast to be.

Anyway, today, Thursday, our half-day of work, is all about the sheep.

Since today was supposed to be just cool and cloudy, the plan was to shear the sheep outdoors. For better or worse, we stuck to that plan, even though everything took place in a 40-some degree bone-chilling drizzle. 

It takes quite a bit of time to set up for sheep shearing. First, logistics. The clippers require electricity, so, not being in the barn, we needed to set up within extension-cord reach of the generator (or, conversely, relocate the generator, but who wants to do that?). Once a location was chosen, the next thing to do was set up their pen. There’s this cool movable fencing that can be electrified that works really, really well. We actually set up two contiguous pens since there was enough fencing, so next time all they need to do is be scooted into the next enclosure, and then we will leapfrog enclosures, which should work out quite nicely. Then we had to get five livestock panels to enclose the sheep into an even smaller enclosure within their pen for easier catchability. Finally, we located and hauled out some plywood on which they would be sheared.

The next step is to transport the sheep from the barn to the enclosure without losing any (there are seven sheep and a goat). Conveniently, sheep are… well, sheep, so when a human has a bucket of grain and the sheep know it, they are happy to follow the human with the bucket to wherever she wants to take them. Beth got to be the human with the bucket, and, man, can she sprint! This is the Running of the Sheep:

We finished preparations with a couple minutes to spare, so Nate and I got ourselves some hot tea for the festivities. As we were standing there watching in the cold, nasty drizzle, cups in hand, not so much for hydration as for warmth, I experienced a wave of gratitude and sympathy for my poor mother, who spent so much time watching me in boring sports events under similar conditions. Simultaneously, I experienced extraordinary glee that in my delightful, eternally childless state, I will never, ever have to freeze to death, clutching my hot tea as a last ditch effort to survive, as I watch a bunch of uncoordinated toddlers, mine among them, chase around a stupid ball in order to “excel” at “competition” at a way-to-young age. No, thank you. If I did have kids, I’d probably just let them run around and be feral anyway. I’d rather they play with sticks and mud than overpriced commercialized sports equipment. 

Right. Back to the sheep. So sheep shearing is certainly a trade and a skill, but it’s also an art. These sheep have been shorn before, so they know the drill. First, Emily, the super talented shearer, has to go into the tiny pen (which now contains seven sheep and one goat) and catch the first customer. Make no mistake: sheep are fast! But Emily is faster, and within a couple seconds, she has Nancy in her grip. She slides/drags/walks Nancy out of the pen, gently tucks Nancy’s head to Nancy’s right side, which causes a reaction similar to what cats do when you pick them up by the scruff of their necks. Once Nancy’s head is tucked, she gently lies down and can easily be turned on her back, and once she’s on her back, like a shark, she’s pretty docile. She bleated a few times and made some half-hearted attempts at kicking her way free, but to no avail. Emily held her firmly but gently, using her legs to manage various parts of her body to keep her calm and relatively comfortable while allowing Emily to access the parts of Nancy she needed to reach.

This is one of the white sheep getting her belly wool taken off:

First, each sheep gets her hoofs trimmed, which is a simple process, not really unlike trimming a dog’s or cat’s claws, or even our own fingernails. Then the shearing begins. It’s cool how that works. Emily starts with the belly wool, which is junk wool because it’s thin and dirty. Once that’s off, Emily starts working down around the sheep’s nether parts, a delicate business! Once the fleece is freed from the tail area, Emily goes back to the sheep’s chest and shears a line from chest to throat, then pulls the wool apart, essentially separating it into two sides. Next, Emily works the sheep’s left side, working from head to tail, gently rotating the sheep and bending and straightening legs as needed. Once the sheep’s left side is shorn, Emily turns the sheep and starts on the right side, working again from head to tail, so that, ultimately, one giant sheep-shaped fleece falls away from the sheep as soon as Emily shears her last swipe. It’s really pretty neat! I didn’t know that fleeces came off like that, all in one piece. I was imagining a bunch of haphazard shearing that left tufts and bits and piles of wool. Nope. Not at all. Emily is good.

This is one of the black sheep with her left side done, and Emily moving on to her right side:

After Nancy came the rest of the white sheep, Leda, Maria and Banda. Nancy is easy to tell apart because she’s small. Banda is easy, too, because she has one black front leg and has horns. Maria and Leda still confuse me. One has pinker ears than the other, but I can’t remember which is which. After the white sheep came the black sheep, starting with Renata, who is also easy to distinguish because she is the only black sheep with horns. Then there are Mercedes and Lucinda, and, again, I can’t remember which is which. One has a whiter muzzle, but I can’t remember which one, though I think it’s Lucinda.

This is the little pen with Pearl and Lucinda (probably) still waiting their turn, and a much lighter Nancy hanging out behind them:

Finally, after all the sheep were sheared, it was Pearl’s turn to get her hoofs trimmed. She’s such a sweet girl. She was kind of prancing around afterward, getting used to the feeling of her new hoof shape.

The sheep were funny after being sheared. They started by doing a lot of scratching and rubbing on things, including the livestock panels, which are green, so some of them ended up with some green spots. Then they were not unlike a dog after it has a bath. They ran, they jumped, they kicked, they played, and they even did a little gentle head butting, as they were kind of like, “Oh, yeah. It’s YOU. I didn’t recognized you with your new haircut!”

This is all their fleeces lined up in the greenhouse to dry, a necessary step thanks to the drizzle”

One last thing: these are Icelandic sheep, and they, along with some other breeds, have a tendency to have their wool actually felt on them close to their skin. When that happens, it’s really hard to shear them, so some of them ended up with a little layer of felted wool left on them, while others got a much closer, more even cut. Emily is really good; I don’t believe any sheep got even slightly nicked, despite not exactly sitting still and making it easier for Emily.

All told, I think freshly sheared sheep are happy sheep. I heard about this sheep who escaped shearing for five years, so I looked him up on the Internet. Chris, I think his name was. You should check that out. It’s super important that sheep get sheared regularly. Their wool keeps growing, and poor Chris was carrying around about 89 pounds of wool before he was rescued. Can you imagine?

We did just a couple things to clean up after Emily left, and then we began our afternoon off.

After being so chilly for so long, we really weren’t up for much, so we opted for lunch at the Pizzeria (grilling outdoors was out of the question!), then came back and fired up the wood stove, managing to overheat ourselves to the point of opening windows. We spent the afternoon the way any good human should spend a dreary, drizzly afternoon: reading, relaxing, and just being. There’s really nothing wrong with that.

I’ve never been a very good relaxer. I’ve always felt that I should be doing something. But with as much and as hard as we work here — and as much as we accomplish, actually physically, tangibly accomplish — I have no problem whatsoever giving myself permission to just chill out and enjoy life. This is a very new thing for me. I’m actually learning to relax.

Friday, May 6: You Say Potato, I Say “Yum!”, or Creation and Destruction

Dear Maine,

What’s this? It’s… warm this morning? And so comfortable! No need for excessive layers! Yay! And things are not excessively wet after yesterday’s rain/drizzle. We really did need it, though; it’s been a very dry spring, and plants like water.

We started this morning by harvesting things for market. We cleared out one of the hoop houses by harvesting several different kinds of lettuce, kale, spinach, bok choy, tatsoi, arugula, beet greens, and baby salad greens. Next, we moved on to the second hoop house and collected bunches of radishes.  I like harvesting. It’s fun! While Nate helped Beth wash and package it all for this weekend’s markets, I helped Rose in the greenhouse.

I know I’ve said this before, but I just admire Rose so much. I love working with her. Today’s task was a delicate one: potting up these little tiny flower seedlings into bigger soil blocks. I think I’ve mentioned before the two-inch soil blocks; they are cubes of soil that have a smaller cube (probably a half an inch cubed) missing from the top into which other things are put. Usually, it’s a half-inch cube-shaped soil block that just sets into the little space in the two-inch block, but not so with the flowers. They are planted in tiny cells, one hundred twenty-eight to a tray, so each plant needs to be removed from its cell with either a little wooden stick or a knife. Then all the soil needs to be shaken away, which sometimes exposes one, tiny hair-like root, and then the roots need to be trimmed and the plant placed into the little hole in the new soil block, where it will be very happy, since it has much more space to grow. 

It was as I was doing this task, which took me right up to lunchtime, by the way, that I started thinking about creation and destruction. As I was handling these delicate (yet quite tough at the same time) little seedlings, I was thinking of the power I held in my hands at that very moment, both literally and figuratively. One abrupt or harsh movement would cost the seedling its existence, but a delicate hand and a loving manner, on the other hand, give this tiny, tiny life everything it needs to grow into the beautiful flower it is destined to become. It made me think of other areas in my life where I am perhaps too heavy-handed and made me wonder what might happen if I treat each situation with the love and care I showed those baby flowers. 

I do love plants. And I don't mean “love” the way I mean it when I say I love chocolate or I love the color pink. I mean that I feel  them. I’ve said it before, but plants love us. Please stop and take the time to really look at, listen to, touch and feel the plants around you. See what you notice. Whenever I’m around plants at all, and even more so when I take the time to really tune into them, I am filled with an incredible sense of love and well-being, probably stronger than that which I feel when I’m around animals or humans, even the best animals or humans there are.

The morning started with a form of destruction — a harvesting of that which was created — that will lead to more creation: creation of delicious meals, camaraderie and experiences in the kitchens, dishes and hearts of those who took these delectable edibles home from the markets over the weekend; and creation of health and healing in the bodies, minds and spirits of those who consume them. That is the plants’ gift to us, and we should accept it in appreciation, gratitude and wonder.

The morning ended with more creation in the transfer of those tiny, nascent flowers into their new soil.

Lunchtime involved a combination of the two. We ate bok choy that we had “destroyed” a few hours earlier, but in so doing, created a delicious, healthy meal that nourished us. 

The afternoon began with more creation: the planting of the seed potatoes! We planted so many of these, and in so many different varieties. I love potatoes, not only because of how delicious they are, but also because, as plants go, they’re so easy! Planting them is a snap. Instead of a hole, they require a trench, which can be created with a tractor (effort level: low). Planting them doesn’t involve tiny seeds or delicate plants, just egg-sized pieces of potatoes with eyes on them. There’s really not much to it; you just press (or even drop) the tater into the trench at the proper distance from its neighbor, preferably with the eyes facing up, and repeat (effort level: medium-low). Finally, covering them over can also be done by tractor (effort level: low), and there you have it. One field of potatoes planted. 

Beth’s mental planting calendar is often tied to holidays, just for ease of remembering. So potatoes go into the ground on (or very close to) Cinco de Mayo. Olé!

Next came more destruction, and this was kind of sad but also kind of fun. The hoop house from which we harvested this morning was… well, spent. There was a bunch of spinach left in there, but the aphids had discovered it, and it was past its prime, so it was time for it to clear out and make way for the new tenants, who will be moving in next week: the tomatoes! Lauryn (I apologize to Lauryn; I only recently learned, thanks to FaceBook, that she spells her name with a “y”, so the previously mentioned “Lauren” and the person henceforth known as “Lauryn” are one and the same. Regardless of how I spelled it, she is one cool girl), Nate and I spent a couple hours tearing out the spinach by the roots — destruction! But, then the spinach goes into the compost pile to provide nourishment for subsequent generations of spinach — creation! And the space it cleared had lime and compost spread on it by Nate and Lauryn (while I planted about a hundred cucumber plants in the greenhouse — creation!) so that it can host tomatoes — creation!  It’s all just a big cycle in which one thing must make way for the next when the time is right. I don’t see destruction in as negative a light after today, and I appreciate much more greatly all that goes into creation. It amazes me how so many things can happen so perfectly when we either help create optimal conditions, or even just get out of the way.

The last thing we did was cover a couple outdoor beds (containing arugula — yum!) with ReeMay (I believe that’s the name brand for this light, breathable row cover, but since I don’t know the proper spelling, I’m going with the phonetic). We put our toys… I mean, tools… away, then did our chores and called it a day. 

The afternoon was beautiful, which meant that I was down to just a tank top, which meant no long sleeves, which meant that when I picked up all those destroyed piles of spinach and put them in the tractor bucket, I got covered in soil and spinach bits (not to mention an aphid or several), which meant… yes! A shower! I took my delightful shower (I seem to appreciate them more when I have fewer of them), then settled in with my glass(es) of wine and my Nat Geo, while Nate perfected his contraption.

This is what I get to look at while drinking wine in front of the cabin:

You may be wondering about Nate’s “contraption”. Remember all those buckets I sprayed out to “clean enough” status with the hose the other day? Well, there’s got to be another way, and Nate was assigned to design it. So he did! Completely from scrap wood and found items such as a pallet, a door handle and some hinges (Total project cost: $0. He even reused screws that he found.), he built a bucket washer!

There are three pegs on which to hold buckets, which are inserted by lifting the support behind the buckets. The support, which has a fancy handle, latches back into place, and then the buckets are securely mounted in such a way that they can be sprayed from all angles and given a little room to play without escaping. Nate is really good at this sort of thing. He is both handy and handsome, and I’m lucky to find him, because I’m told you usually only get one or the other! ;-)

We ate our dinner outside (for I think the first time since we got here). We had grilled corn on the cob and sirloin steaks, which was all absolutely delicious. Did I mention how much I appreciate that you, Maine, have high quality meat for very reasonable prices? You are a carnivore’s delight!

After dinner came more relaxation, and sweet dreams about tomorrow morning’s market…

Saturday, May 7: Market, a Gate and a New Neighbor

Dear Maine,

Oh, how I love market! At 7:30 Dennis had the truck all packed up for me (thank you, Dennis), and as soon as I walked up, he took this picture of me and put in on Facebook (“Fisher Farm”. Like us and follow us so you can see what else we are up to!)

But I get ahead of myself… allow me to back up. We still rise and set with the sun, and my first morning business is usually… to take care of business. I love it when Nature calls at sunrise, because look at this!

Is it really that bad to walk a minute and a half (albeit quickly!) under these conditions?

And then these pretty ladies were waiting to say, “Good morning!” upon my exit from the outhouse:

Aren’t they beautiful with their new haircuts?

And, while I’m thinking of it and have a picture of it, I thought I would show you what a 12x15 foot cabin looks like after the bacon has been fried in the morning:

Anyway, back to market. I got to go all by myself, and I’m pleased to report that all went well, and it was still fun! I got set up by a little before 8:30 (which is good, because that’s when market opens). By 9:17 (I looked at my watch), I was sold out of bok choy, tatsoi, spinach and salad greens! I had the usual scrumptious fare: a few dozen eggs, beet greens, two types of radishes, two types of kale, two types of green lettuce, three types of red lettuce, arugula, and tomato plants, in addition to the above. These delectable treats go quickly, and I was packed up to leave by 11:30, with nothing to bring home, but with plenty of time for shopping. I got some sourdough and milk for Beth, and I got some hot dogs, beet hummus, tabouli and grape leaves for us. They’re gonna be good!

I got back and cleaned up from market by about 12:50, then took just a little bit of time to get ready to go to the land. We started with lunch at Quizno’s (I can’t wait until that novelty wears off, because Quizno’s doesn’t make me feel very good, but it tastes so good, and we don’t have that back home…), then went to Lowe’s for house numbers and a drill bit. We moved on to Tractor Supply to get our gate and accompanying t-posts and hardware. Nate was getting increasingly irritable and I was feeling increasingly rushed, because as Nate put it, “I’ve been trying to put up this gate for weeks and everything has been delaying me or getting in the way!!”

But despite all Nate’s irritation, the Universe was evolving a plan.

Yes, we were delayed. A lot. We kept forgetting things, or getting the wrong things and having to take them back, and there were all these little glitches and wrong turns (both literal and figurative), and the careful driving involved when transporting a fourteen-foot gate in a truck with a five-and-a-half-foot bed. But ultimately we made it, and at exactly the time we were meant to, because there was a surprise waiting there for us.

All those delays were orchestrated to make sure that we arrived at the perfect time to meet the coolest dude in Bradford, Maine, who just happens to be our neighbor, Brian.

As we pulled in to the driveway, we could see a guy up the road on a tractor. We’ve been waving at people in vehicles as they drive by, but, to our dismay, no one has stopped to say hello. But not today. Just as we were unloading the gate from the truck, Brian rolled in to the driveway on his tractor. He cut then engine, then stretched out his hand, and introduced himself by both first and last name with warm, direct eye contact, the way that Mainers do. Nate and I both instantly took a strong liking to him. Turns out he’s got a hunting camp up the road, but owns the hundred acres across from us and is breaking ground on his new log cabin next week. He’s fifty-seven, and he’s retired from the City of Bangor. He was going to work longer, but decided that after thirty-eight years of service, he’s had enough, and is going to build the log cabin he’s dreamed of building since he bought the land in 1982. He talked about his two sons, his grandson, and his grandson on the way. He talked about the deer (or lack of deer) in Bradford, and he shared with us his plans for his property across the road. He said he’d love to help us with our projects and that we can come over any time, for anything we need. And I believe him. I am really, really excited to have met Brian. We were hoping for good neighbors, and it looks like we may have hit the jackpot with this one. 

After Brian left, Nate and I went back to our gate project. Nate drilled the holes for the hardware, and I helped him put it in. Then Nate drove the T-posts for the stops (both open and closed), while I took upon myself the crucial and arduous task of installing the street numbers on the post. And this is our final result:

Aside from the giant puddle, see if you can spot the other unpleasant thing in this photo. Let me know if you've figured it out.

Yes, the driveway needs work, but Brian said he’ll talk to the guy who’s coming to do the earthworks on his place on the 16th, and he’ll have him drop a few loads of gravel for us, then Brian will spread it around with his tractor. I’m convinced that if everybody in the world were like Brian, there would be no war, no violence and no strife. And I barely even know the man!

We stopped again at the laundromat in Corinth. We did two loads this time, one that’s “normal” soil and one that’s “heavy” soil. I’m pleased to report that they both came out pretty clean. This time the puzzle was almost done, so I finished it. I can’t wait for there to be a new puzzle next week! Unfortunately, the weather is not hanging-clothes-outside weather.

We went to Walmart after laundry to pick up a few more things, including a clothesline to hang clothes inside since it’s now raining…I also got paint for the gate (we want it to blend in a little better), curtains for our cabin windows, and new containers for compost and kitty litter. I was not a fan of the rubbish that was collecting around the sides of the cabin. This is a farm, not a trailer park!

We got home after 8:00, which is really after our bedtime, and neither of us was really in the mood to take care of what we had bought, let alone string the clothesline and hang the clothes up to dry. Nonetheless, it needed to be done, so we did it, interspersed with making and eating dinner. We got an extension cord and turned our stand lamp into an overhead lamp, which was something that I was missing. 

That got accomplished, the curtains got put up over the sink, the laundry got hung up, and then it was time for bed. We went to bed around 9:30, which is just way, way too late for us!

Sunday, May 8: Mother’s Day, Blogging and Relaxing

Dear Maine,

I’m not sure what the cats were up to last night, but both of them were rotten little demons all night long. Of course, when it’s time for us to get up, that’s when they want to go to sleep (and stay in bed all day). Jerks.

We got up around 6:30 for our Bacon Tree Sunday morning breakfast. (Remember? They open at “7ish”.) At about 7:15 we went to the door to learn that they open at 8:00 today for Mother’s Day. That gave us forty-five minutes for a scenic drive. We filled up the tank, then headed south on 1A from Winterport, met up with 174, and took Route 1 across Verona Island, then turned around and came back. It was very foggy, so we didn’t get to see much, but we passed Fort Knox and several overlooks, which we are very excited to check out when the weather makes it worthwhile.

We had the Bacon Tree special again (this time it was strawberry cream cheese stuffed French toast. Oh. And they use real maple syrup!), then came back and cleaned up around the cabin. We took the bucket washing contraption to it’s new home behind the packing shed, took some scrap wood to the burn pile, and I straightened up our new refuse containers (trash, kitty litter, compost, and returnables) and put the old, dead potted plant into the compost pile (I have plans for that container). Nate made the now-overhead-lamp a more permanent fixture, mounted the power strip to clear up some more space, and helped me hang the curtains (I’m too short and it’s too close to the wood stove!), and since then, we’ve just been taking care of odds and ends.

I plan to spend the rest of today reading and relaxing, and strangely, Willow is touching Mittens, which is noteworthy and deserves a photo:

One final thought. It’s Mother’s Day. We all each have our own mother(s), obviously, and we will celebrate them in our own ways as we see fit, but I’d like to give a special thank you to our universal mother, Mother Earth, today. These last two weeks have brought me closer to her, and I’m pleased to have reestablished our bond, to have returned to a life surrounded by her gifts and guided by her rhythms. She is there for us, to provide for us, to nurture us, to comfort us and to help us heal. I am confident that she would like to reestablish a relationship with each of her children, not just with me, so please give that some thought, my brothers and sisters, because, yes, as children of Mother Nature, that is indeed what we are.

Think on that.