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.