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/