Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Letting go

I always have such god intentions before our fall fiber days. This fall I planned to design a new yarn, have kits to sell featuring the yarn I designed last winter, side the greenhouse, start and finish the rain garden that will control the runoff from our south roof, clean the refrigerator, wash the floors and vacuum, clean up the gardens and dye some yarn.

Fiber day this year is this coming Saturday, September 27, four short days away. Last Saturday was the breaking point in my attempt to be prepared; if I didn't get it done by then, it probably wouldn't get done. I swept and washed the floors, dyed 8 colors of wool, harvested the garden, and set my yarn and roving out to sell. Then I watched as Newton the dog walked across the tile floors with big, dirty, doggy feet. By the end of the day, I realized that I wouldn't get the gardens cleaned for fall. I wouldn't wash the wool to dye for a new yarn, I wouldn't do anything on the rain garden or the greenhouse and I certainly wouldn't clean the refrigerator before September 27.

I was over whelmed. This was the fourth fiber day with an unsided greenhouse and bare dirt where the rain garden was supposed to be. I couldn't start on the rain garden until the siding was done. In the last six months, I'd skirted four fleeces and sold three. I still had twenty-four fleeces to skirt and wash and dye for that new yarn. I hadn't found time to create a Northcroft Sweater  or Northcroft Sox kit. In fact, I couldn't even find the yarn I had designed for the sox.

My brain circled around and around all day Sunday berating me for not accomplishing my goals. Although the sun was shining, my day was gray. Monday, Dave and I vaccinated thirty ewes and ten lambs. The we put Winthrop the ram into his marking harness and turned him in with the ewes;  the beginning of our next sheep year. I finished dyeing the last color of yarn needed for fiber day. There was still so much to do.

Then I remembered the important things about fiber day have nothing to do with the cleanliness of my house (or fridge), the state of my garden and yard, or unwashed fleeces. Fiber day is important because people come together to talk, share projects, and use their hands and brains to create.

Saturday, at 4 PM, my sheep year will end when the last car drives away (oh yeah, and we was h the dishes, put away the dyes, yarns and chairs, and sweep and wash the floor). Then Dave and I will put the canoe on top of the car and leave for a week in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. The chores I had set for myself will be postponed indefinitely. After all, they aren't necessary like vaccinating sheep, playing with grandchildren or going canoeing. I just need to remember what's really important and let go of the rest.


Sunday, September 21, 2014

How to paint a sheep

                                                                                        photo by Peter Jarvis

What happens when you mix a bunch of little kids, several spray bottles of Kool-Aid, and a flock of sheep? The story is told by Jasper, age three...


"Step 2)

Before you catch your lamb you need to prepare your paint.

Unsweetened Kool-Aid™ works really well  for painting lambs (except grape and lemonade).

Black cherry paints maroon, lemon lime comes out green and raspberry is blue. Those are the best flavors to use. I’m not sure why raspberry is blue, but it’s a very nice blue. Orange is orange and cherry and strawberry make light pink.

Mix ten packages of the same color of Kool Aid™  in two cups of water. Pour it into a hand sprayer.

Hang the spray bottle on the fence so it will be ready when you need it.

Be careful not to spray a grownup by accident. They don’t think it’s funny."

How to Paint a Sheep is the first in the Little Lamb Library, a series of picture books written by Joan Jarvis Ellison (that's me). For a step by step guide on how to paint a sheep, buy a copy of the book for the kids in your life at the Northcroft store on this blog or at the Mercantile on Main in Pelican Rapids, MN.  With this book, as Jasper says, "... seven easy steps. Next time you get invited to a sheep painting party, you'll know what to do. In fact, if you live in the country, you could even get your own sheep to paint."





         

Sunday, September 14, 2014

What does a farm mean?

I just overheard an older gentleman talking in a coffee shop. He said "a farm years ago used to be a lot more labor intensive."

I know that the big mega farms are highly mechanized but we aren't. For me, a farm means a lot of hard work. It means herding and controlling sheep. It means lifting 1500 fifty pound bales of hay at least once a year. It means shoveling manure, shoveling grain, and shoveling snow.

For Dave, the farm means the challenge of repairing old machinery, parts frozen in place by time, grease and dirt. It means building metal parts from scratch using his welder, a forge, a leg vice, and a three pound hammer.

Our daughter, Amber, was asked "What's the dirtiest job you've ever done?" Her answer? "Shoveling sheep manure in the rain." Amazingly, one of her ultra urban friends said "That's not a job, that's growing up on a farm." He also agreed with her.

For our grandsons who all live in big cities, a farm means being able to run as fr as they can, to climb fences, to explore the woods for treasure, and to paint lambs.

To Stevie Ray, a friend who as a young man worked summers for us while he was in college, a farm means a source of funny stories for his jobs as a comedian and a business consultant. His memories of the farm include digging a drain field, catching our youngest eating black nightshade berries and treating her with ipecac then holding her while she vomits. His last article for The Business Journals is about alpaca dentistry  and stems from recent experiences on our farm.

There aren't very many Old MacDonald farms anymore, but for most people, especially the ones who don't live on farms, a farm means "a cheep cheep here, and a moo moo there, here a quack, there a meow, everywhere a baa baa."

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Customer service

                                                                           
                                                                                 photos by Gautam Dantas
We're installing a solar photovoltaic system on our farm. The two man crew from All Energy Solar spent four days here. Their major tool was a skidder with a bucket for landscaping the area,  an auger attachment for digging the 24" diameter holes for footings, and a trenching attachment to dig the  trench for the electric wires. Our grandsons, Kieran, Jasper and Simon were entranced. They liked the clay that was uncovered, the holes, and the trenches. They were even more impressed with the concrete pump and the concrete mixer.

The crew kept us up to date on what was happening so the boys could watch. We planned our day around the concrete delivery. They even brought us a monarch caterpillar they found while grading the field around the collector array. But their most amazing act of kindness happened the day we were gone. The men noticed that two of our does and their four kids had escaped from the pasture. The guys found the hole in the fence, rounded up the goats and encouraged them back through the hole. Then, they fixed the hole!

It's too bad that all companies don't have the same customer service instincts as All Energy Solar.


Thursday, August 14, 2014

If one boy can

Dave's Grandpa Greene used to say "one boy can do half a man's work, but two boys, working together can only do a quarter of a man's work."

Last week we called a young friend who wanted to help with baling. We asked him to bring a couple of boys. He showed up with four friends. They all came in the same car and all were eager to earn some money, so we hired them all, but we kept thinking 'if two boys working together do a quarter of a man's work, what happens with five boys working together?'

The first thing we teach them is how to move the bales from the wagon onto the bale elevator. If they lay the bale on straight, it travels up the elevator and into the hay mow without falling off or getting hung up in the narrow doorway to the mow.  Some years more bales end up on the ground than in the mow. Next  we teach them how to stack the bales in the mow. The bottom bales lay on their sides so the twines don't rot, all running north and south. The next layer, stacked on their bottoms, run east and west and the next layer north and south continuing in that pattern until the barn is full. It seems like such a simple pattern, but if one person starts to stack the bales wrong, everyone who follows him carries on the mistake. It wouldn't be so bad, but a stack ten bales high and two bales wide can be very unstable if it has no cross ties to connect it to the rest of the pile. Some years, we've spent as much time rearranging the hay as stacking it.

This year, with these boys, after a few reminders, the barn is in perfect shape. we had a freshman, several sophomores and eleventh graders and a new graduate. They paid attention and learned the patterns. They worked together, solved problems together and chattered the entire time in Somali. They watched Dave and I keep working when we got hot and tired and they did the same. They watched us throw bales and took pride in learning the technique. At the end of our week of work, Dave and I baled a wagon-load on our own while they filled the barn on their own; they were 100% successful.

Baling hay was a real pleasure this year, because of our crew of five boys.  Even if one boy can only do half a man's (or woman's) work, these five boys can do the job.

Monday, August 4, 2014

Make hay while the sun shines




(a preview of my first adult fiction book, Tangled Web a novel, due out in September)
           
 I watched the world go by, standing at the back of the hay wagon, or at least our corner of the world. It was an amazing day! Summer blue sky stretched on into infinity. A cooling breeze brushed past my face and touched the leaves of the quaking aspen at the edge of the field. They fluttered and twirled, whispering on their flexible stems. As we rolled past the pasture fences, the sheep raised their heads to watch us. Stupid was grazing right along the woven wire grid of the fence line, tempting fate.

The alfalfa plants that had escaped the path of the mower were blooming, colors shading from light lavender, all the way through the purples to dark, midnight blue. Yellow sulfur butterflies floated from flower to flower. The scent of the alfalfa flowers carried by the breeze was sweet, and somehow, green.

I smiled at Mindy as she dragged a bale from the baler chute at the front of the wagon to me at the back. "Doesn't the air smell great?" I asked. She took a deep breath and sneezed. "Stand back here by me,” I added, “so you can smell the air before it picks up all those little bits of hay."

Mindy staggered a bit as the tractor pulled us over a rock in the field. "Mom, I think you have strange ideas about haying."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Mindy explained. "I think it's fun when cool guys come to help us."

"You mean like Arlene's son, Gavin, or Mick and Tony?"

"Yeah. They're fun to work with. But I don't get all excited about the smell of the air or the flowers at the edge of the field.” We bumped over another rock and staggered to regain our balance. I grabbed at Mindy’s shoulder to steady her.

"Mom, look!" Mindy pointed over my shoulder, suddenly excited. "A deer!" A tiny fawn sprinted toward the brush at the edge of the field. His long legs wobbled. He stopped, looked back at us and then took off again, vanishing under the draping leaves of a willow.

"Wow, that's the first time I've seen a fawn in the hay field," I said, awed.

"It was sleeping in a windrow," Mindy interrupted. "I didn't see anything, and then suddenly it jumped to its feet right in front of us and raced off, just before the baler picked up the hay it was lying in."

"It was exactly the same color as the hay in the windrows," I said.  "If we hadn't had rain on this hay it would still be green and the fawn wouldn't have been able to hide there. Neat."

Mindy and I looked at each other and smiled. Then she turned to grab the next bale.

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Connections


The connections between different parts of the farm are fascinating and many.

Yesterday, Dave and I cleaned the hay mow of our barn. We raked out the spoiled hay and mixed it  with sheep manure in the barnyard. After it composts, the mixture will be wonderful fertilizer for our garden.

The wind blew hard out of the northwest and kept us cool. It also drove the insects into the deep grass for protection.

The ewes were in the home pasture, grazing the tall grass and they disturbed the insects. When the insects flew up, barn swallows swooped down to catch them.

The swallows fed the insects to their babies, tucked away in nests made of hay, manure mixed with mud, and feathers.

When we work in the barn, we enjoy hearing the barn swallow babies cheeping and the rush of their parents wings as they swoop through the barn going to and from their nests. Everything is connected and we are a part of those connections.