Animals of the knob...

I have good intentions.  I start flipping through the pictures, the first few bring smiles and pleasent thoughts of reminising; but soon my emotions turn to awwww followed by sniffles.  I just don't know how to interpret all the various emotions I am feeling right now.  Just minutes ago I was outside, toes curled over the edge of the hillside overlooking the bay.  I thought to myself, last full moon here at the 'knob.   I continued to question why it is I am having such a hard time?  I knew it would be hard, but it's still all so confusing.  Ladies and Gentlemen, don't let me fool you, things could not have lined up better; its hard to argue against what seems to be fact; it is all just meant to be.  We did well, we quite possibly saved a magical place and homestead from being torn down and built upon.  We bought our first place together, learned to become comfortable with who we are (okay still working on that, he is still annoying sometimes... just kidding) we learned to be shepherds, ride a clydesdale and remodel every square foot of this place!  But alas, the chapter here has closed and it is time to move forward.   


But still.  It's difficult for me!  As I flipped through the pictures, I found some of the first animals to visit the knob.  I had already been keeping chickens for about a year when I came up with this great idea.  I of course couldn't just buy new chicks, I wanted to hatch and raise my own.  So, I built an isolated breeding pen for each species and set up pure breeding pairs.  Eggs, brooding hens and voila, I hatched my own chicks. 

 Of course there was Drogo, named after the parishiner of good shepherds, St. Drogo.  What a character.  Full of sas, but ever dutiful, Drogo was so patient with us as we learned our new roles as shepherds.  He fit in with the ladies, protected the energetic lambs and minded the rams the few times they had to interact.  Drogo was purchased along with the sheep.  They traveled together and now reside on their new farm in Wisconsin (Observatory Hill Farm). 



The original first 7 ladies of Windy Knob and their first night fall at the farm



Soon after the sheep of Windy Knob arrived in 2009.  A dual purpose sheep, they lived up to be everything I had expected.   A lot of lessons learned, lots of lambs born and a lot of late nights later, I wouldn't trade it for the world.  It's just funny looking back, as I even find myself going "wait you then did what? Ulicny what were you thinking?" 

Back in the day...

Moving is more difficult then I remember.  Sorting through stuff, finding a new place to put it...  I spend hours packing and shuffling tons of stuff only to load the truck and come back to something that doesn't look like I even made a dent.  And I don't even have that much stuff! 

I'm trying to set aside time to reflect and think of all the memories here at Windy Knob.  When looking back, it's hard not to start at the very beginning; May of 2008.  Just the other day I came across a letter from the previous owners which had been dropped off on our first morning in the house.  "To The New Home Owners" its read, and it spoke of what a magical place the farm is.  And you know what Sheila, you were absolutely right.  Windy Knob lived up to every expectation I had and then some!  It truly is a wonderful place.  That letter meant a lot to me as I'm a sentimental guy (some of you laugh, go ahead, but I am dang it) and will cherrish it for years to come.  I don't have anything but positive things to say about this experience and will want to look back years from now and reflect on it.  And when I pull that letter out and read it, I can still feel myself standing there in the dark brown panelling of the 1970's kitchen, reading the letter on top of the harvest gold laminate countertops with loose linoelum square tiles shuffling under my feet.  But you know what, the view was just as incredible that day as it is right now...

One of my favorite things is finishing a project and looking back at what it was.  It was almost comical to me when I came across the orignal appraisal dated April of 2008.  It shows the exterior of the house and a few interior pictures.  My oh my we have come a long way! But even so, I was still enamered with the place back then, just as I am today. 

Sign Here.

May 1st 2008 was the day Dan and I moved into our house, which would soon retain the name “Windy Knob.” It was an incredible feeling; purchasing our first house together, going from our “first homes” and making this huge step (okay more like leap) in caliber of home and connecting with the nostalgia and history of a truly unique property. I distinctly remember our first night, eating pizza on a set of crummy old fold out chairs placed smack dab in front of the big picture window. We slurped down cheese and pepperoni while gazing out over Grand Traverse Bay as if we owned every gallon. Potential filled the air, and I was bursting at the seams with anticipation of what could come from our new “farm.”

And with that I’m announcing today, that May 1st 2013, will be our last day here at Windy Knob Farms. Even the move out date is poetic; five years to the day.

Remodels. Sheep. Chickens. Dogs. Books. Horses. Lambs. Cats. Family. Remodels. Magazines…

My head spins just thinking about all that has happen in this five year span. Oddly enough I feel like I was able to define and come to terms with myself and who I am, just to end up lost again in the end. And of course I ask myself, as my family has (as well as the buyers in fact) how could you leave such a place?

The irony is despite all the steps that had to take place along the way for this sale to occur, I’m not sure how to leave it, it just seems to have happened. I had to find a place for the sheep and lambs and to not have them separated from each other, find a home for all the hardworking chickens that laid eggs for us, a home other than an oven, a farm full of “stuff” (you’d be amazed how much stuff can accumulate when there is space to be had), come to agreements with realtors and of course perspective buyers: all of this had to have the planets align and God to nod his head, so it’s very calculated, but my heart feels like it just happened. Momentum started with an idea, and while I have no clue where it’s taking me, certainly, I’m going somewhere.

I will sob like a baby when I close that door for the last time. I know the same water I will drive by time and time again will never look the same as it did from the window seat I built, but we should embrace change. And I am grateful for the experience and everything I learned in this process, the skills I picked up along the way. And yes, the sale was a positive thing and our hard work paid off, but as they say, the memories will last forever.

I wanted to honor Windy Knob so to speak, and as a form of self-help therapy, I’m going to write about my top ten memories for the final 10 days in the house. And like any journey in life there have certainly been some serious ups and downs over the five year period; moments that were no fault of the farm, but moments attached with living here. It’s my goal to reflect on the positive, and to make a toast I suppose, to the farm and the great memories I leave here with. I will work to accompany each with a photograph, even amidst the boxes and newly released “fur-bunnies.”

If you are up for it, “sign here;” the closing has occurred, it’s time to celebrate.

Let the countdown begin. Here’s to the top ten of Windy Knob.

Marek

Lamburgers

A food blog.  Yeah, thats how I can get the word out about our grass fed lamb!  In just a few short weeks, our lamb will be made available, and being a relatively small farm, the lamb supply won't be around for long. 

With the kitchen remodel recently coming to a close, I couldn't think of a better time to experiment with lamb recipes, including my new favorite Lamburgers.

There are two parts to this meal.  First, there is the tzatziki sauce.  A simple greek yogurt sauce, it is truly what takes savory lamb to another level.  1 cup yogurt, 1/2 cucumber diced, 2 tsp lemon juice, 2 tsp fresh mint, 1 clove of garlic minced and salt and pepper to taste.

Secondly, the lamburgers themselves.  Take 1 pound of lean, grass fed ground lamb (available through http://www.windyknobfarms.com/) and with it mix in the following: 1/4 cup minced onion, 1/4 fresh parsley, salt and pepper to taste.  Now this time of year you can certainly grill them outdoors, or as I chose, broil them on a foil lined baking sheet for about 3 to 4 minutes per side.

Finally, brown both sides of your whole wheat pita bread and stuff with romaine lettuce.  Place two "burgers" in a pita pocket (now halved) and top with a helping share of tzatziki sauce and cherry tomatoes. 

Whole wheat grilled pita and grass fed lamburger

Grass fed meats are becoming a regular on grocery lists all across the country.  But finding local lamb, let alone grass fed, in this area is sometimes a feat in and of itself.  Windy Knob Farms is pleased to provide grass fed lamb below market prices.  This lamb is born and raised right here in Northport Michigan and processed at a USDA certified facility just outside of Traverse City.  Support your farms and support your community, all while gaining the health benefits of grass fed lamb.  Contact us today to place your whole or half order, and you too can be grilling lamb yet this summer!

Infamous Llama

Thirty some sheep.  Three dogs.  A cat.  A Clydesdale. And two of us.  And some barn mice I suppose.

But the Llama is the legend.

I bust butt on sheep management, breeding, feeding and I even ride a Clydesdale for pete's sake!  Nothing.  Tell my students I have a llama, and it's "Oh my gosh! You have a llama!"

Quick recap.  St. Drogo, the Parishioner of Shepherds, we needed a guard llama for the flock.  He needed a name... hench Drogo. (Drah-go)

He looks at you with ginormous eyeballs, all pupil, dark as night; contrasted with his locks of bright white hair (former name White Lighting, yes I'm serious).  And on a good day, he rocks his emo bangs.    He is simply a character and a half.   He walks up to you slowly, whenever anyone approaches the fenceline.  Cautiously, two toes at a time, he stares through you.  Judging.  Oh he is totally judging you.  To the point one starts to question himself.  Is there something on my face? Do I smell bad? What is it? Why is the llama looking at me like that?

It's just Drogo.  So uber confident, he makes even the best of us question ourselves.

That's Drogo the guardian of the flock, where the new lambs often leave Mom just to follow the pied piper.  Countless times I have seen Drogo, with two or three lambs in tow, followed by restless ewes chasing after their young.  Drogo is a rock star.
So much in fact, that Drogo has now gone A list on us.  An event that takes place tonight (4-14) in the the Grand Traverse Region, highlights local fashion designers and their abilities to resuse materials (once heading for a landfill) and turn them into promising, wearable fashions.  It is quite the event!   DJ, lights, stage, runway, bands.  It's one of those, you have to see it once in a lifetime at least.  And to think of the work these students from all over the area put into their pieces, it is really cool.  Well, Trashion as it is called, will sell trendy t-shirts to all of the people that attend.  Retro, trendy, fashionable, all key words when selling the marquis wearable item from Trashion.  And this year's 5th Anniversary design?  Well, a pop art version of Drogo of course!

Did we really doubt his abilities?  I think it was just a matter of time.  So while some of us here at the 'knob are in it for our five minutes of fame, don't forget there are still a slew of us that are working for a living.  Our class act of ewes did wonderfully on the lambing season, giving us a tremendous group of lambs for 2012 (including a bunch of ewe lambs).  And our spring shearing gave us quite a variety of colors including signature Moorit, grays, a black and of course the classic white fleeces such as Vera Lyn's, which was photographed just before being skirted (cleaned of all secondary wool and vegetable matter).    We have plenty a supply of yarn and fleece products available, so please feel free to contact us for anything on your wish list including yarns, roving, raw fleece and of course, lambs!  All from right here, our home in Leelanau County.     

Vera Lyn's 2012 Spring Fleece

All in a weeks time.

Oneida and her ram lamb

Here we are, finding ourselves in the middle of March, and to think we have been under 20 inches of snow, causing fallen trees and snapped branches that left us without power for over four days; and warmer temperatures which then caused flooding followed by sunny days and temps in the mid 70s. Man, what a week. Yes. That all occurred in less than a week.

Lambing has been an ongoing process. I have to say it has gone well in that there have been lots of healthy lambs and ewes. Things have gone smoothly for the most part and the lambs are just doing outstanding in their growth and development. With the variety of colors and new additions to our flock (at least until the lambs head to new farms) one can only say things have gone well. However, have things gone as planned? Um, no. If things went as planned, lambing would have ended a couple weeks ago. I even started breeding earlier this year, and yet I still find myself barn checkin’ for the remaining three ewes that definitely are pregnant and yet aren’t ready to deliver. I can’t help but smirk. Even when I think I have things “scheduled and under control,” I really don’t, not even close.

Lambing isn’t a negative thing of course; it’s just a lot of work (and I’m not even the one delivering the twins so really, who am I to complain). The work and 2am checks can add up and lead to stress, but I have to say there are moments that simply make lambing gratifying. Yesterday was one such moment where rolling up the driveway in the truck, I made the usual turn around the bend where I was quickly met with the usual view of the barn and backdrop of westerly views. Today however, every ewe, lamb and llama was out of the barn enjoying the unseasonably warm weather as much as anybody. The ewes were soaking up the sunshine, and with them, curled up in each of their bellies, was one, maybe two beautiful little lambs, just as content as they could be. What a site it was. I simply rolled down the window, propped my arm on the door and just sighed.

Black is the new... black?

Round Alaina

One of the many things that Windy Knob Farms prides itself in is its attention to details in breeding.  Having a background in the sciences and teaching genetics to high school students has paid dividends when it comes to selection and breeding programs with my sheep.  I will go as far as to say I am obsessed with the genetic possibilities.  While some mothers lay in labor hanging on the excitement of what lamb will pop out, I am yelling numbers at them and saying 'cmon 50% chance of a codon 171 with 25% chance badger faced ewe!  And yes. I do find that funny.

Last year there was one single black sheep on the farm.  Our amazing Alaina.  Her fleece is tremendous and to think its naturally colored that dark of black is truly amazing.  I hoped to bring that black color around in our flock, but time and time again I was getting variegated blacks and grays rather than solid black.  Until last spring when we had one black ram lamb our of Lisa.  His name was Peterson, after my favorite Peterson Park in Northport.

He of course became a keeper.  And I couldnt wait to use him in the flock breeidng managment, which I did this past fall. 

Helga only minutes old

Fast foward to last Tuesday, when Alaina became the first Ewe in labor and low and behold TWIN BLACK EWE LAMBS!  Wahoo!  I felt like Rosalyn Franklin, like I discovered something, not like Watson and Crick who just stole the idea.

Then came Rosalyns Baby.  A black ram.  Ella's Lamb? Black ram.   Holy cow people- I have black lambs running around all over the place!    Uh nice job Peterson.  Black is a gene that is hard to come by, but once you understand it and manage it in your flock, it truly is quite valuable and appearently predictable. 

Proud mom and her twins Ursula and Helga

We are now halfway in our lambing season, and things have gone quite well thus far.  Please visit us at http://www.windyknobfarms.com/ where you can contact us to be placed on our list for desired breeding stock of both registered and naturally colored Corriedales.    By the way, the theme this year is a throwback to our heritage.  This year you will find traditional slovak and german names.  Pavol, Bratislav Fritz and Helga just to name a few!

Barn Door.

It's hard to believe lambing season is upon us.  The weather somehow is a cross between late October and early March, topped with the dark nights and mornings of January; confusing to say the least.  With or without a foot of snow on the ground, the ewes of Windy Knob are about to begin lambing season.  Normally early March, this year we shifted the season a few weeks earlier in an effort to time the lamb growth with the pastures prime season.  We just so happened to pick a mild winter to do so, but trust me, I'm knocking on wood and counting on the worst just to be sure we're ready.  Though still a week and a half a way, the lambing jugs were all assembled and fresh straw spread all around in anticipation of the next best thing to Christmas.

There is a lot that goes into properly preparing for the lamb arrivals.  Simple things like ear tags, docking bands and iodine are all necessary components for a sucessful season.  And while I feel much more confident heading into the season, I do find myself a bit lackidazical about the prepartation.  My Type A personality that had everything lined up and organized a month ahead of time, has somehow been replaced by the oh yeah,  almost forgot that, alter ego. 


Other preparations include increased calorie loads for the ewes the last few weeks before delivery.  The rams across the hall at WKF dormatory are left with the not so exciting usual flakes of hay, however the coeds are so full in the belly with their lambs, they can't quite get the nutrition necessary to maintain their health and those of the lambs inside.  We supplement their hay with upwards of a pound of grain per day.  And let me tell you, as crazy as it sounds, I have to remind myself it's sheep food; these oats and grains covered in molasses smells so sweet! To tell you the truth, I swear it looks like the granola bars in my lunch. 


Mary Jo awaits her buffet



The sunshine today brings a smile to my face.  It's one of those days where farm chores couldn't be more welcomed.  Putzing across the mud soaked driveway, dropping bales of hay from the upper loft, and spending some time with the girls in the paddock; not bad for an afternoon's work.   Mary Jo, our ambassador of peace (and food) waits in line as she associates my presence with a trough full of grain. 

I was just describing lambing season to a friend of mine.  It's the only time, where getting up at 2am has its perks- starts with throwing on the Carhartt jacket, somehow still stiff after several years of use, and stepping into my oversized snow boots; never tying the laces, only tucking them inside at best.  I reach for the door handle, grasping the air several times because my eyes still haven't adjusted quite yet.  I stumble down the stairs and head towards the barn where the glow from the porch light is now out of reach.  Down the sloped driveway, where the only way I know I'm avoiding the drop off is if I hear gravel under my boots, meaning I'm still on course.  If it is a good night, the moon will be reflecting off the snow, enough that the barn door handle has a luster that shines a little brighter then the old wood of the door itself.  At this point there is a bit of anticipation, where I put my hand on the handle, take a deep breath and slide the metal rollers down along the track.

If the trip is worth its troubles, I know right away.

Quietly, I shuffle past the parked tractor and listen for the bellowing of the newest, youngest Windy Knob-er.   Now I rush over to the stall and peek over, getting my first glimpse at the lambs that had been delivered since the previous barn check only a few hours ago. 



Maternity ward at Windy Knob



What color? What pattern?  How many?  Boy or Girl?  All questions answered within a pick up and a few roll overs.  Momma ewe will be watching my every move; instincts tell her no, but somehow she knows I'm not there for trouble.  A swipe of iodine on the belly's navel, and perhaps a cut of the cord, I then weigh the lambs and record who's who.  I usually end the greeting with a "good job mom." 

One last glance over my shoulder before turning off the lights.  I'm off to bed; see you ladies at 6.

Occupy the Bathroom.

The grout is old and could use replacing. We had already done a “touch up” job on the bathroom, it looked “nice” (shutter, cringe). Basic, but nice. The grout though, needed some work. The plan was to scrape out the old grout, maybe retile the shower and move on to lambing season which is four weeks and counting.

And then I got this.

The room went from functional full bathroom to large closet at best in no time flat.
Scrape, pull, lift, swing, slam, smack and thud. Done.   And yes, thats masking tape on the old existing windows to model the 3 x 1 divided lights, because that's how I roll. 
So now, apparently, we are redoing the bathroom.

You know I love this stuff. I thrive off of it. The designs, the materials, the look, the authenticity. I love researching the period and the purpose of the items. I’ve graduated from just mimicing a photo of some classic timeless room, to now pushing it a bit; going for something unique and creative. But I will always love the period details.

A friend of mine recently went through a massive renovation of her house. A big beautiful California home with Arts and Crafts details. We communicated via facebook; sharing ideas and feedback along with citing catalog page numbers of the items that appeared in each of our perspective remodels. Like therapy, we came to realize our obsessions with restoration and remodeling. Anyway, she suggested I read a book titled House, written by Michael Ruhlman who is known more for his culinary expertise than restoration.

A book about remodeling old homes! IN!

The book is great in that it sums up the anticipation of shopping for a home, negotiations, the scary inspection and then goes on to talk about the process of his family’s purchase of an old Cleveland home. He then goes on to research all the previous owners and their stories. Somewhere in between those two storylines however, he cleverly dropped a bomb on me.

“What was so strange about work on the house once the contractors were gone was how unpredictable it became. We have far more to do in our lives than there’s time for. I will never be able to read all the books I want to, write all the stories, cook all the dishes, see all the movies I want to see, let alone have enough time with my children and wife, not to mention the places we might go, new work we might pursue. So, given limited time, I determined to be organized about life, always have a plan, always to be accomplishing something. What drove me crazy was that it was impossible to plan on this house. The house did it for you—suddenly it ate your weekend. It demanded your attention, as if it were a living creature, as if it had a plan of its own.”

It was awesome to read someone else’s words that expressed my thoughts exactly. I don’t have children but I do run a farm; no wife, but share a home. I don’t write, but I don’t have contractors either damn it! So there are some congruent lines we share. But it’s the truth that he writes. This house consumes me. I let it, but that’s not the point. I am beginning to feel like it defines me, and yet oddly enough, I’m okay with that. As mentioned earlier, a simple grout job turns into half a cast iron tub and pile of debris. Shoot, even my shower walls are gone (imagine a nice stand up glass surround – will. be. amazing.).

I’m heading towards my four year anniversary here at the ‘knob, and I’m just now starting to figure it out. To roll with it. To drop the type A, plan everything and be organized speal, and just roll with it. Now whether I am capable of that realization will be what determines if I’m in this house six months from now. But it is worth a shot because places like this don’t come about often in a lifetime.

I work hard. Probably “too much” in that it gets the best of me sometimes. But life is way too short to sit tight, at least the way I see it. Like the author said, have a plan and always be accomplishing things; truly where it’s at for me. Now, I hear the church choir licking their thumbs to flip pages, and yes I know accomplishments aren’t applicable in every case of success. I’m just saying here; right now- for me. When I have a world of options, and I find myself getting overwhelmed with all that is around me, I can start by finishing this right here.

And that ladies and gentlemen, I believe is called a metaphor.

Since the last time I wrote, we have a new adoptee on the farm.  Her name is Ada, and she is a 5 month old shepherd mix.  I will write more about her and all the other animals this year develops, and of course lambing season is around the corner.  I promise not to bore you with house remodels every time.  Thanks for the support, I need a kick in the pants from time to time.  Nice to know you guys read this, and care enough to let me know. 

Passing the title.

 

Strangely enough, the Indian Summer had me feeling like it was still August; while the workload of school, home projects and the farm brought me back to reality and all that comes with late fall.  The breeding pairs are just about finishing up their second cycles, which meant it was about time to say goodbye to Johnny, our founding ram here at Windy Knob.  He is quite the presence, his fleece and confirmation were both of the utmost quality, but his "it" factor (along with his 260 pound frame) left visitors saying "whoa" whenever they saw him for the first time.  There is nothing to be sad about, Johnny is going to continue his Kingdom on another farm.  His bloodline had been mixed throughout our farm now, and his "prince" George, leaves me confident in the future Corriedales here at the Knob.  Johnny you will always be the first ram, thanks to you bud.  And to think, if you told me three years ago I'd get attached to a sheep; I'd a said you were crazy. 

The farm continues to thrive.  As we speak, some fifty odd pounds of our fleeces are being washed and processed locally and spun into all varieties of yarn and the finest of white lambs roving.  We hope to have it back in time for Christmas, send an email if you'd like to be updated, or put in a reserve order today.   Our superior grass fed lamb was processed back in September and we sold out within a week! We just can't keep products around here these days.  There are far worse problems to have I suppose.  Honestly, we are humbled by how well things have gone for the farm and are quite proud to see the hard work pay off.  Of course I know our high quality products are the finest around.  It's just nice to know our customers think so too. 

If you are interested in raw fleeces we have two available from our fall shearings.  One is a true black fleece from Alaina, and the other in a beautiful Cinnamon Moorit fleece.  Please view our website at http://www.windyknobfarms.com/ for more information.   

Everywhere a sheep sheep

Old Mcdonald had a farm, E I, what the, oh.

This is the time of year where the sheep are spread out across the farm into their breeding "pairs."  Some rams are lucky enough to have four ewes, other rams might only have one.  Because we are using five rams, there are five different breeding groups.  Four is usually the max,, but due to some unique circumstances this year, we are using five.  That means five different fences to move around, five different groups to keep contained, five different water buckets, salt buckets, etc.  It is a lot.

All for the sake of bloodlines and maintaining the colors. 

There are days when I get to sit and watch the farm while lounging poolside, but I haven't seen any of those lately.  The farm has been kicking my butt.  Just in the last two weeks we have had the sheep shorn, taken 50 pounds of wool to have cleaned and processed into yarn, taken lambs to butcher, sold said lambs and arrange all the breeding pairs.  I'm ready for poolside again, though those who know me well, know that is a fictional place in my mind that place doesn't really exist for me.  

I will work backwards for this story.  Solanium is a chemical that turns green when exposed to sunlight.  If taken in a high enough dosage, it can be quite poisonous to humans.  It is a dormant chemical found in potatoes.  So.  If one were to dig up an entire row of his Yukon gold potatoes, which happened to be a bountiful crop this year, and then say, forget about them for a week (while he worked on other things), his entire crop of potatoes would then turn green due to the sunlight activated Solanium.  Thus spending almost four months of garden work only to end up with toxic taters.  Awesome.

Sheep shearing, fleeces, yarn, grass fed lamb, breeding: check.

Garden skills: needs improvement.

Poo-kins and Poo-chinnis

We have had a garden here since the first year we moved in, 2008.  It's quadrupled in size and has some success stories (as with failures of course), and has become quite fruitful (tempted to say vegetableful here, but won't).  Last fall we had pumpkins growing, but they never seemed to reach full size, and just ended up sheep treats in October.

As a result, this year we decided not to grow any pumpkins in the garden; however the sheep had other plans.

July days were tearing off the calendar wall when we noticed some plants sprouting in the barn paddock.  They were right outside the stalls where the sheep hang out all winter long.  It was amusing, and interesting all at the same time.  Just where did these plants come from? Could it be? Naw, really? The seeds...  they passed right on through and sprouted in the overly-fertile soil despite getting trampled on by the sheep?  Really?  The pumpkins and zuchinni seeds they had eaten over the winter passed through their intestines, survived the winter and spring and germinated into this:

Indeed they did.  Now fast foward to mid August (mere weeks away from returning to school) and the sheep's side garden project (no sprays, weeding or row planting mind you) has not only taken off, but well surpassed anything any human have growing on the farm.  The zukes are giant! As if they are some rare breed of giant squash, and the pumpkins are plentiful (though small and a bit late... sheep, lets get with the program next year. 

None the less, the sheep have shown me up this year with there "anything you can do, we can do better" garden.  Now the moral dilemma, the products of their garden... do I get to eat them or the sheep?

Everything finds its place.

It's hot. No, like really hot.  Car thermometer read 98 degrees, but you have to compensate for the humidity.  That makes it feel like 130 degrees, or something I swear.  And the old house architecture with a boiler system and no room for central air, I hate it.  This old house stuff is for the birds.  Today anyway.

Everything finds its place.  I feel that is a double sided statement for me right now.  One from a point of gratitude outside and the other as a saving grace inside.  I'll try my best to explain.

I feel very grateful for everything that is around me right now.  I walk to my barn in the morning and smell the straw and the sheep of course, see the chickens putzing around, and my great dane often in tow, and I think my gosh this is a life most people couldn't conjure up if they sat down to think about it, and I get to live it each and every day!  Windy Knob Farms, started as a research weekend reading about livestock, and njow just recently we have had incredible success in sales to the point that  have sold out of nearly everyhing I have including lambs, breeding stock, yarn, fleece and rugs.  I just am truly blessed with how well things have gone so far.  Just in the last few weeks I've seen our lambs go on to be yoopers, cheeseheads and mudhens just to name a few (c'mon trivia buffs, where'd they go to?).  One miraculous story takes a lamb from a July barbque (as in "guest of honor") in which an awkward situation becomes a learning situation for me in working with the public and sales.  Hours after the pick up I received a phone call from a neighbor who runs an animal santuary for rescured and retired livetock.  This sheep went from stall to car, to barbque, back into a car and to the life of her dreams. 

Her new rightful owners are absolutely in love with this little lamb of 9 lives, and we even recieved a new picture of her hanging with her new pasture mate, a 1000 pound heifer named Sunshine.  It's a long frustrating story that has a happy ending and that is all that matters at this point right?  But you talk about a lucky (destined) little lamb! 

I just finished restoring a medical cabinet from the 30's that turned out to be a project and a half.  I bought it in an old barn in North Carolina earlier this summer and now I see it in my bathroom every morning.  Rusty and in a pile of junk, to center piece of a bathroom.  Funny how things find their place; sometimes as if it's just automatic or destined.  

The other sense of finding place is the sense found from within.  A view in which I constantly search for finding "place" which is good to have in trying to be creative and define who I am as a person.  Stagnant is something I will never have to worry about as I constantly seek to determine what it is I desire to do and where I want to be.  But there is a fine, fine line between overdrive and overdone.  A line between soul searching and perpetual discontent; healthy and heartache, you get the point by now of course.  Everything around me seems to find its place, and yet I feel as though I am stuck still fighting to get the square wooden peg though the round hole.  You laugh, but seriously, I won't stop once I get my mind made up.  And dang it, that peg will go there.  Meanwhile, the world goes by, and damn it's beautiful;  If I would only let it do its thing.  

Artist Colony

About a month ago, maybe even a few weeks more than that even, I received a phone call with an unusal request.  You see, when you have animals on a farm, you have to expect a lot of unusal requests, things like field trips from schools, a whole new world of "friends" who want to bring their children and all of their neighborhood friends over, and more.  I simply explain that we aren't a petting farm, and most are understanding.  And while I have come to expect these strange request, this one was different.

"We want to paint your sheep."  the polite voice on the other end of the line stated.

"You want to what?" I replied, clearly bewildered.

She went on to explain, very patiently, that she works with a group of artists from Traverse City, and their group meets around the area to paint different settings in an outdoor setting or Plein Air.  This particular Thursday they had in mind, they wanted to use our sheep as their muse.  I extended the invite and looked forward to the day.  

My Grandfather is a painter, and I always remember heading for his art studio as a kid, whenever I visited Grandma and Grandpa's place.  In the door, through the kitchen down some stairs and his easel stood tall on the right side of the room.  Sometimes it was a brand new start, and I could imagine what the colors would make of themselves; other times it was like a flash moment in time, watching the painting take shape and form towards completion, one step closer with each new visit to their home.  The painting thing didn't work out for me, but his creativity will always be instilled in me.  

And so the day came, and Windy Knob became an Artist Colony.  Check that one of the list.

A variety of mediums were used from charcoal to acrylics and even some water colors.  I absolutely loved walking around and seeing people enjoy the farm in such a unique way; but the best part for me was to see how other's see the farm.  It is a beautiful place here at Windy Knob, and I appreciate it, most certainly I do; but there are times where I look around and all I see are hooves that need to be trimmed, mouths to feed and pastures cut and sheep to shear.  For once I got to look around and see what others see, the beauty that is around me, but from someone else's perspective.  It was truly a neat experience.  From my photo's you can see the easels set up around the farm, and artist enjoying themselves in the evening sun.  The sheep, well, they still eat and slept, and the chickens walked around perhaps only slightly perplexed why people were staring at them so intently; but a day was definitly had, and I for one enjoyed it. 

 

Almost there...

I'd be lying if I didn't admit to counting down the days of school that remain before summer break.  The answer is five in case you were wondering.  It's a strange feeling, much like one anyone would get before a vacation approaches.  The excitement, the anticipation, time coming to a stand still and then finally the last day arrives and summer begins.  By the following Monday I usually start getting antsy and bored again.  That's where this whole disease called farmicosis came from in the first place.

But I love it of course and truly appreciate having the animals around.  Gunnar has been particularly good for me so far.  Gunnar is my 17.1 hands tall, 1700 pound Clydesdale that I have who has now turned four.  Big difference from last summer, he actually follows commands now.  Whoda thunk it?

The latest job on the farm has been milking of all things.  You can milk sheep? Well, yeah you can.  You can milk anything with nipples I hear.   Now Corriedales are a dual purpose sheep, and of those two purposes, dairy is NOT one of them.  However, in the following days of weening the lambs off of the ewes, the udders continue to develop milk.  It can become quite full and I decided to try my hand at collecting the milk.  Turns out Sheep's milk has the highest protein and fat content (better than goat milkl) and is considered to be quite the ingredient in high end cheeses and soaps.  Cheese making is too involved for me, so I am now turning to soap (anyone share a receipe?)  In the meantime, I'll continue to store the milk, in addition to getting funny looks from the ewes.

The lambs are still the heart of the show here at the farm.   Always willing to pose for you, here is a group of the Moorits from this year, the famed triplets (Dune, Maple and Glen) and Sutton, the first born of the year. 

That's it, everybody out!

It’s amazing what can happen in just a few weeks of time. Not too long ago, we were pushing it, to move our first group of sheep out onto pasture for the first time. The pastures hadn’t truly bounced back yet from the winter, and our lambs had just hit the 30 day mark. It wasn’t but late April that we had the sheep shorn. Suddenly in just the past week alone, we sold a couple lambs for breeding stock, sold every single fleece we have on the farm, 6 skeins of yarn to a few different buyers and even took a deposit (yes we take reserves) for an order of lamb in the fall. Not to shabby for one week’s time.

In addition to the sales, there are alot of chores going on round here. Now that the rams were moved out of the barn for the season, we had to dismantle their temporary stall. Out went the boards and the gate and up came all the soiled bedding. Wish it were as easy as it sounds, then I wouldn’t absolutely loathe cleaning out the stalls.

From there we were able to move the rest of the barn group out to join their peers. All the lambs now, even the second batch, have reached the age that the can be taken out to pasture where they will truly flourish. It entails and ushering of sorts. We set up an aisle way of temporary fencing to escort the sheep from the barn out to the pastures. For these guys it was their first time outside their safe haven. However they were torn. While their instincts had them on high alert, their eyes and stomachs had them yearning to shoveling in the fresh grasses as fast as they could chew.



A view out the window



In just a few weeks time you watch the lambs bulk up with the limitless pasture that they pace themselves on. Nap, eat, nap, eat… repeat all day long. Still just a third of the height of an adult sheep, but truly starting to look more sheep than lamb in body build; it is great to get the sheep out on pasture where they are meant to be. Even better is the view from the house. I finally found something I can enjoy doing where I can just sit and relax. Milos moves over for me to share his couch (just a bit of course) and out the westerly window, I can gaze out onto the pasture and watch the sheep. It is such a site and definitely soothing for me, maybe thats why we count sheep to fall asleep.  My mind doesn’t race 100 mph about the next six tasks I should be doing, or how to build, fix or run this that and the other thing. I just exist. I drink my coffee. And exist. Silly as it sounds, it’s rare for me and quite difficult actually.

And so it begins.  The snow has long since melted, the rains have yielded to a few sunny days and we move onward toward summer.    

Take one on the chin.

Spring time may have finally arrived, just a little late.  This time last year every ram, ewe and lamb was out on pasture.  The temps were warm, the pastures had bounced back and the barn was empty.  Fast forward to today, and we still have rain, snow (believe it or not) and a packed barn; the pastures just aren't ready for 'em.  Our hay is running dangerously low, which meant I had to go back and buy more.  Luckily there was still enough to buy a few weeks of time. 

Hooves, deworming, and lamb weighing: all things that have to get checked off the list before heading to pasture.  We basically coral every sheep into the stalls (coaxing by shaking grain in a can).  Once inside it is grab who you can and check them off the list.  Repeat until all hooves, CDT shots and deworming meds are done. 

It has become an art. You get your feet shoulder width apart, squat down low, arms out wide and you have to be pretty darn quick.  The sheep start swimming around the walls of the two stalls, it's like watching fish collectively swim in a group.  Once you move, they react.  But hopefully you win and you have your hands on the one you wanted. 

I saw her coming, she had made it past me once, and I was lining up to catch her on the pass back.  One of our registered ewe lambs, Isadore; weighing it at 45 pounds, she made her way towards me.  She was being ushered with a few other lambs on her left and right, but I had her in my site.

Shoulder width apart, arms wide, bend your knees.

I jolted between a few to catch her, but my reactions weren't nearly as quick as hers.  I had already decided to go in for it, a split second after she decided her next move.  As I was bending down to grab Isadore out of the group, she (and her sixth sense apparently) was in flight mode.  Sheep are incredibly athletic.  Not all that smart (what's that say about me), but amazingly agile and quick. And oh, by the way, they can jump.  As I was bending down to get her, she began to leap up out of the small group of about 6 sheep.  All too quick it happened, I basically become a bullseye for her.  Her head clocked me square on the jaw.  I had just enough time to see it coming, and may even have winced before contact.  I took the shot, stumbled backwards and braced myself again the cement wall of the barn.  From there I slide down the wall, landing firmly on my rear.  With a face full of lambs now struting right past me at eye level.

I saw stars but never went out.  Definitely more TKO than KO.  Isadore 1.  Farmer 0. 

After the deworming and weighing was through, it was time to get the four adult rams out onto pasture.  The pasture can support four right now, but not another twenty seven.  A few temporary fences placed, open the barn door and gate, and away they went.  It is very satisfying to see animals out on the pasture again. Like a rite of passage, springtime on a farm is quite a landmark.  It's nice to see things returning to their prime.  Green grasses, buds beginning to grow, happy rams and chubby lambs.  Another spring at Windy Knob.

Lisa's fleece

Our fleeces have been shorn, and some yarns and other products available.  Be sure to visit out website, and yes we ship!  We even accept pay pal to make it more convenient for our buyers, just visit us at http://www.etsy.com/people/windyknobfarms .

Taking spring head on.

It finally feels a little like spring around here.  I have to rub my eyes and make sure I'm seeing things clearly, but now, when I look out the window to the pastures there is actually some green out there!  The pasture is beginning its comeback, Robins are out and about, buds on the treesp; ladies and gentlemen, we may have broken through to the other side!

The lambs all made it into the world safe and sound.  I will take the late deliveries when it means everyone is born healthy.  We didn't have one troubled delivery this year.  All the ewes and lambs are living life fat and happy in the barn.  There is quite a size difference between the lambs, mostly due to age; with our heaviest weighing in at 47 pounds and our young little triplets still in the teens.  More importantly, everyone is eating and everyone shows a great demenor while playing around the farm.

Now that lambing season has ended, it is time to move on to other spring chores which include shearing and hoof trimming.  The other day we had the shearer come out to the farm and shear the boys and a few of the girls that are off schedule.  We do two shearings a year; one spring and the other in the fall.   The freshly shorn fleeces smell so good, they glisten with the lanolin that I can feel just by touching the fleece.  A couple white fleeces, a couple grays and a moorit brown will all be available here shortly.  Send an email if you are interested and would like to know more.

The hoof trimming is where it gets interesting.  We started with the rams because 16 hooves (4x4) seems a lot less daunting than 40 (4x 10 ewes).  To trim, involves a headlock, a body check, a few wrestling suplexes and THEN you are ready to trim hooves.  In all seriousness though, it is difficult to catch these 200 or 250 pound rams and pin them again the wall, while the other one of us tries to steady their hooves in an unnatural position; steady enough to trim with sharp hoof shears.   I've definitely lost more blood than any ram has to this point.

The funny thing is the four rams all have their individual personalities, which until I raised sheep myself, never believed a sheep could have.  But they do.  Johnny is the giant that could hurt you, but is somehow laid back enough to not bother.  He intimidates you with his presence and that is enough.  George is the one of the two new adolescents.  He has a lot to prove for some reason and isn't afraid to start a tussle, be it another ram or with me.  Since he is only a year old, I can still take him.  Rutherford is also a year old, and much smaller than George.  He is the low man on the totem pole, he knows it, and is the most easy going of the four.

Then there is Ahgosa.  I have written about Ahgosa several times before.  First there was the body flip, where he left me laying on the ground staring at the sky.  Then the breakout out of the pasture, and now this.  While I was trimming Johnny, a feat in and of itself, I am basically bent over his rear, hanging my head upside down while I trim the bottom of his hoof.  While doing this, out of the corner of my eye, I see the top of a wool covered head back up, angle down and charge towards me.  I dropped Johnny's hoof, and turned to protect my head just in time to take a blow on the shoulder.  Ahgosa had reared back and took a charge to, no pun intended, ram me!  I bellowed at Dan for not giving me a heads up, which of course he has his hands full trying to steady Johnny through all of this.  I shoved back Ahogsa and stomped my foot at him to let him know I mean business.  From there on out, it was one eye on the hoof being trimmed, and one eye on any charging rams.

Happy Clouds, Happy Lambs.

Being a high school science teacher, I had the week off- er "off."  I didn't go into school, per say, although I did work on a few lectures, graded essays and worked on my timeline for the last month before the AP test.  But yes, I could have slept in, had it not been for the loud obnoxious ewe's bellowing for their food.  I don't recall downloading a hungry sheep app for a phone alarm for a reason, but that's just Mary Jo and Artemesia.  They don't even bah any more, it's more from the depths of their loins and sounds alot more like bah-getoverhere and feed me Seymore!  School work, sheep and a bathroom remodel; it was a productive vacation and I am grateful for the time off to get that much completed around the farm.  But... I also would have been grateful for a vacation down to someplace warm and far away; without my tools, without my books and computer but I'd probably would still take Mary Jo and Artemesia. 

One night during the week, I was able to meet up with some friends for trivia night in Traverse City.  There was a particular question regarding an artist who was known for painting his "Happy Clouds."  I jumped out of my seat on this one.  Dad, here's to you, and all those times you made me sit and watch PBS and Bob Ross with his big afro glistening under the single stage light of the low cost production set.  We would watch, (thinking to myself, who watches people paint?) while going through phases where, Bob, the artist would appear to have botched the whole painting; messing it up with some newly painted dew dad.  Then, just as quickly with a whisk or two of his fan brush, suddenly it became a stand of happy pine trees.  The man was genius.  Bob Ross; not you Dad.

From happy clouds to happy sheep.  All 17 of them!  Some came a little late, and made for some long waiting moments, but still, they all came!  This year was a little inconvienent as they were all spaced out over three and a half weeks.  With that, there really was never the chaoctic moment I expected where I pictured six ewes all yelling and giving birth at the time, and mixed up lambs all having to be bottle fed.  Instead, the little maternity ward of lambing jugs, never maxed out past the three spots we have.  Perhaps the ewes knew the space available and simply waited for it.  And better yet, no troubling births.  Ten ewes, some first timers, cold snow (yes...still) and no problems what so ever.  THAT, is a great lambing season.

Thanks to all the "ladies" at Windy Knob, and welcome to all the new ones, with ten ram lambs and seven ewe lambs now running around, we have over thirty sheep on the farm.  And still one llama who has somehow become a playground fixture for the lambs.  Like a tired parent, Drogo sits out in the paddock, where the snow has given way to the flattened remaining grass from last fall, and lets the little ones get away with things no one over the age of six weeks will ever get away with.  Do you think the lambs play hot lava or is it king of the hill?  Either way, the lamb(s) standing on top of Drogo's back seem to be winning.

And if you'd like to see the full list of names, or are interested in seeing the lambs that are available for breeding stock, please visit our website and click on spring lambs!  http://www.windyknobfarms.com/