A Sleepless (Not Sheepless) Night

I was nervous as a first-time Mom. Ok, maybe "nervous" isn't the best word to describe the sort of headcase I was at the beginning.

But it was NOTHING compared to being a first-time lamb owner and hearing the coyotes howling at each other VERY near by.

We threw on a floodlight. The howling stopped. I walked the fence's perimeter, scanning the woods (we kept the pasture away from the woods' edge so if a predator got bold enough to approach they'd need to cross open land) with another flood-type flashlight, talking to the sheep as I went. Karl called out the window, "Come back in, they've stopped howling."

"Yeah," I said. "Because they know where I am. They're close."

But I went inside. I lined up my shoes, the gun and the flashlight so arming myself on the path out would be more "natural." I then took the fastest shower ever. I laid down for 5 minutes before they started calling again. Out I went, lights on. The howling stopped. Again I walked the perimeter. I went back inside. I had seen one set of eyes in the woods on the opposite side of the driveway from the pasture, but couldn't tell if it was deer or coyote.

I laid back down and waited. An hour passed without a word. Then another. I got worked up wondering if it could be worse that I DIDN'T hear the coyotes. I used the flashlight to peek at the sheep from my bedroom window (not realizing how the beam would flash back off the screen and wake my husband). The sheep seemed fine. "Let the fence do its job," Karl said. I think I groaned. "They're an investment," I explained to the man who says "I keep seeing dollar signs whenever you have a new idea." He said, "So was the fence," and rolled over.

I finally drifted into a restless sleep.

This morning I woke up and counted the sheep. They are all present and munching happily. They knocked over some hay bales we had stacked as a windbreak for them and have been plaing "king of the mountain."

Sun's out, coyotes are gone, and I have cleaning to do...

Have a great one!
Shannon

Loading and Unloading Sheep

So, we borrowed Annaliese and Will's horse trailer to get the lambs yesterday. They were all in one end of the Southwind Farm Dairy barn, so loading up was pretty convenient. Realizing that and that we had Kendra (professional sheep catcher ;-) to help load up, and we had a much less worrisome time of catching and loading.

Karl even looked at Kendra(she's probably 16 or 17 years old) at one point and said, "So where does sheep wrestling go on a resume?" She smiled and shortly thereafter outdid herself by grabbing two of sheep at the same time.

I did carry one out myself (so proud), but Kendra caught it for me, so I'll have some work to do. It was one of the few times I really felt "too slow." That sucks, especially when there's a kid in the age range I used to teach watching.

We tipped the folks who helped (how much does one tip a sheep catcher?--we tipped like they were luggage handlers at the airport) and then slowly (because that's all our X-terra can do hooked to a horse trailer) drove back home.

Amidst noises that made one think the sheep had the better of Karl he grabbed and hoisted each one, carrying them to the pasture. I kept my son out of the way and worried over one plant I couldn't positively identify. I pulled a bunch of it (just in case) and gave a sample to Karl to compare to images on Google's image search.

He said, "Maybe it is lupine."

I freaked. Previously he had said he didn't think so, and now... I started plucking and tossing more of it as the sheep started to graze.

Our neighbors (Annaliese and Will) came up the driveway with their children in strollers. I stopped pulling up stuff to chat, then mentioned my concern.

"Really? Lupine?" Annaliese asked. "I've never seen lupines growing out here."

I pulled a stalk/stem and showed it to her. "No, those aren't lupine. I don't know what they are, but they aren't lupine." She then suggested I ask the guy who does a lot of haying locally. "He'll know," she assured.

We stood and chatted a while, my son playing with her daughter. He gave her a flower. I was proud. Then they were racing around and he put his hand out to grab at her back (he steers our dog that way, sometimes) and they both fell down. She got that look of utter betrayal on her little face and he didn't want to apologize (but he did, after a discussion with me).

The neighbors left and we finally got dinner.

Shannon

Good and Bad Go Hand-in-Hand It Seems

The good:
My son and I took a scenic drive to get some hay at a farm in a nearby town we'd never visited.

The bad:
On the way home, most of my son's time was spent complaining that he wasn't allowed to get out and run around.

The good:
Our dog (a pound puppy) will be okay, although he's on antibiotics; and the vet didn't charge us for an "emergency" visit.

The bad:
Our dog has not yet realized how NOT to get in trouble around the farm.

The good:
My husband's parents are coming up for the weekend.

The bad:
The landlord's stopping by first.

The good:
We get our Jacob sheep today, something my Mom and Dad have been strong supporters of.

The worst of the bad:
My Dad called to tell me my Mom's cancer(sarcoma) has spread to her brain stem and she has one month to live, at most.

So, what will I do? My Mom's going into hospice care around the end of this week and my Dad says not to come until sometime after that. I'll take his advice and drive down with Jaiden on Tuesday of next week--I guess. Those plans could change quickly.

You have to understand...

Before I got pregnant, we were living in Florida (outside of Tampa). I loved the people I worked with, loved the kids I taught, but missed my brother and parents. My husbands family was spread across New Jersey and he missed them, too. My husband and I felt Florida would be "temporary" because we couldn't get anyone else to move down there and could only fly or drive North so many times each school year and summer.

We had started the wheels turning to go back North (I kept saying to my hubby--"They (our parents) aren't getting any younger." I learned I was pregnant almost immediately after returning to my family's home. We were trying to get settled--the move had cost us twice what the moving company estimated, so our savings was wiped out quickly. Land near my parents was outrageously priced and if THAT was expensive, land near my husband's parents was so outrageous it made the other look cheap.

My husband got a teaching job (he rocks) in Pennsylvania and we stayed with my folks while I went through a troublesome pregnancy (gestational diabetes, pre-eclampsia, mild toxicity) and a 36 hour labor. My son was born healthy (and a good size) and we started to look for a better paying job for my husband.

He found it teaching in New Jersey and for a while we were weekend husband and wife. When his Grandmother's health started to fail, we moved in with her and her 50 year old son. That didn't work out well and we started examining other options. My husband's eldest brother started looking for a large piece of land (while Karl was still teaching in NJ) in hopes of having a family-style "commune" (for lack of a better term).

We helped look, knowing that nothing in PA was suitable (price per acre) and the sister-in-law's parents didn't want to drive south of the Mason-Dixon as it would suddenly grow "too hot." Limited by our own economics and wanting to live near family in a rural or nearly rural environment, we helped look at properties. Finally this one was chosen and we suggested we move on up ahead so we could try and get certain chores and things of that sort started.

As soon as it became "real" people interested in living on the land started backing out. The sister-in-law's parents and brother ditched first. They liked the idea of visiting a country home, but not the obligation of living away from certain conveniences. The hubby's brothers (who had toyed with the idea) also renigged. They had started putting down roots elsewhere with their families and in-laws. The landlord/brother-in-law's friends found a suitable commune in Gettysburg. My parents then decided that gun laws and certain other things about New York state made living there a poor choice for them, too.

So we started driving 5 hours to see our loved ones. Granted, it was MUCH less than the 21 we would have driven from Florida, but it grew costlier and more exhausting.

Now we drive down whenever Karl has time (or there's an emergency), but we always wind up feeling pretty ineffective. So please understand if I rant about people living too far from family--I was one that thought being outside the 50 mile norm would be exciting and empowering--a way to strengthen my marriage (and it did). But my mother's rapidly declining health has shown me I made a mistake in my timing and geography. I hope you all don't make the same errors I have.

Take care,
Shannon

Sheep Pictures...They're Like Potato Chips....

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