Sheep Shearing - A Haircut for the Flock

We sheared the flock on May 5th. The rainy forecast held off until late in the day. Regardless, the flock was under cover to keep the fleece dry for the shearer. Bruce Clement, Westmoreland, NH, set up early for the chore of shearing 50+ ewes.

Sheep shearing is an artform. There are shearers who take it to a competitive level and put their best times against other shearers across the globe. In our little state there are just a handful of professional shearers, and Bruce Clement is one of the best. Dylan stayed home from school just to watch Bruce patiently and carefully shear the seven-pound fleece from each ewe.

Sheep, like many animals, relate to each other using scent. So after the wool is clipped, the ewes spend several hours butting heads and chasing each other around while they re-learn each other. Shearing is a fun day symbolizing the beginning of spring and summer.

Lambing On Our Farm

This is undoubtedly my favorite season on the farm. I know it's cold and I know Chris is the one waking up in the wee hours to check the lambs, but I get to be the one cuddling the newborns and fawning over each birth.

I suppose there will come a time when I can't coo over every new lamb. But for now, I truly feel privileged to be a part of lambing on our farm.

Krokbragd - Norwegian Weaving

I have been busy. Most recently we started lambing, and prior to that we celebrated Christmas, and before that we (and about 400,000 other people) spent the better part of 9-days without power because of an ice storm.

Actually, it was the ice storm that afforded me some time to sit at the loom and finish this project. For three years now I've been wanting to weave a gift for my mother, who has always been so generous with her knitting for me. So, I decided to make her a "wegie" gift, in honor of our shared heritage.

Krokbragd is a a traditional Norwegian weaving made from a three-pointed twill on three shafts which manipulates color shots for patterned designs. The structure is reversible: one side carries the complex pattern, while the reverse offers a simpler geometric expression in the same colors.

Most Krokbragd is made with three alternating colors. I went to the wool box where I keep the skeins processed from our very own flock, and selected blues because that is what I remember most about my trip to Norway - the blue. It took me about 8 hours to measure and warp the loom. The weaving portion went quite quickly and I felt like I spent far more time filling bobbins than tossing the shuttle. During the power outage I was able to get the kids to help fill the bobbins and that was probably what put me over the edge - the project was finished three days before Christmas.

Removing the Krokbragd rug from the loom was exciting for me. After I draped it over my shoulders and paraded around the house a few times, I sat down and started the tedious job of finishing the fabric. I carefully tied little overhand knots into the warp fringe. Then I washed the fabric, because my weaving book tells me that the fabric isn't complete until it has been washed.

My mother is enjoying the wool rug/throw on her couch and I hope she enjoys the Norwegian pattern as much as I enjoyed making it. My next project will also be Krokbragd, but this time I will get even flashier with the colors and try to emphasis the twill points more by alternating the colors nearly every shot of the shuttle. Wish me luck!

Ducklings

I'm not really sure why brooding your eggs together, makes you tolerant of one mother but not another. We have three Muscovy ducks on the farm. All three sat on eggs this summer; two of the three sat adjacent to each other. In fact, it is impossible now, with the eggs hatched, to tell who owns which ducklings.

But the mothers who brooded side by side are pleased to walk their ducklings together, bring them to water, and hunt for crickets. As for the other duck - the last of the three sisters - the two broody moms won't let her near their ducklings. They hiss, drop their head, chase her off at a speed that seems unacheivable for a duck.

Summer Muster, again...

I expect most people imagine a pastoral view of grazing sheep, slowly chewing their way across the same landscape day after day. The reality is different. We muster sheep (gather, round up) every four days or so. Mustering is really an expansive term conjuring images of huge flocks being driven across dramatic landscapes; still, I like to use the term because it sounds so much more interesting that "moving sheep".

Mustering, for us, isn't really hard work. It's relaxed and fun, except on days like today when sheets of rain are pelting at your back. We have a system that goes something like this: weed wack, cut or mow path for temporary fencing, set-up five to six sections of temporary fencing/electric net, trailer or drive (with expert help from Fly the border collie) flock from old field to new field, unload flock, observe for a few minutes, test fence for proper charge, and fill water and mineral feeders. Chris checks on the sheep daily and does a sheep count, and when the grass gets short or sparse, the whole process is repeated again. Another sheep muster, every four days or so.

Ranchers and other shepherds would have their own system, a different system depending on the size of the flock, the available grazing land, the season, etc. Have you ever seen a picture of a sheep muster in the Andes mountains or the U.S. prairie lands? Impressive. Well, it's different here. Here in New England we are hemmed in between hills and mountains, valleys, rivers, lakes, and densely populated picturesque little villages. But still, even here, the muster is important.

The Achilles' Heel of Organic

I believe in most organic production, just like I believe in most small family farms, because the farming practices are often the same with a focus and dedication to protect and sustain natural ecological on-farm systems.

Consumers feel good when they buy organic foods. Why? Some people think organic food is healthier. Others think organic production is more humane. And still others have pastoral ideals of organic farming being practices on small, family farms where barnyards look like the New Zealand setting for “Babe”.

Organic farming is bureaucratic. It’s a certification process. The USDA sets the standards and state agencies are established to provide organic certificates to qualifying producers. In the absence of better alternatives, organic is the way to go. After all, the government is saying it’s good, so it must be, right?

American shoppers need to wake up and think about their own immediate situation. The Achilles' Heel of organic is energy. Organic can often dominate as the best choice, but for many consumers the organic producer is 3000 miles away and you have to stop and think – is there a better choice for me, today? We eat everyday, so we can ask this question of ourselves everyday.


Even if you’re not a tree-hugger, energy is at the front of your mind. True, we should all be concerned with conservation because human conservation actually represents balance (I’ll explain that in a later blog post), but when it’s coming directly out of your paycheck, we all pay more attention.

Now the choices become, buy organic from California or buy non-organic from a local farmer at the farmers’ market or farm stand. Or even, buy organic from a local farmer. How much energy was used to produce the lettuce and truck it to you from California in a refrigerated 53’ trailer towed by a Detroit Diesel packing Freightliner? Compare this to the energy a local farmer uses to grow then truck, in a 1995 Ford pickup, the lettuce to the farm stand or farmers’ market. How do you value that comparison?

What if the two lettuce heads cost the same amount? Now how do you compare? Which is better for you? Which is greener (not literally, but from an environmental perspective)? I can’t really help you there. But someone once told me that 70% of every dollar spent locally stays locally. I’m not sure how much Earthbound Foods in California really cares about my local economy.

If you can’t sort through this dilemma, then you’d better grab a hoe and sow some seeds in your own backyard. Use your own energy to feed yourself.

The Meaning of Spring

I don't know about other parts of the country, but here in New England, we tackle spring with a fervor. Perhaps it's a post-winter, hibernation instinct. Maybe it's a shared history with "Old" England and May Day.

On the farm we have shipped the ewes off to begin the annual grazing rotation. If all goes well, they won't return home until after Christmas. Our fields are the only ones without a grazing flock all summer long. We did keep back seven ewes to work with the dogs. And of course the rams are grazing around too.


We started the garden with a few rows of lettuce and have already been enjoying some early harvesting of celery and chives. I haven't yet seen the rhubarb or asparagus tips. In good time.

I remember spring in North Carolina, where I went to college. It was all blossomy and fragrant. I didn't notice a perceptive change in the green lawns, but I'm sure there was. I did notice that as spring wore on, more time was spent indoors with central air conditioning because temperatures were already heating up. In New Hampshire that can happen too, especially in May because of black fly season. But overall, the folks in our region of New Hampshire are outdoors playing baseball, gardening, golfing, and walking, until the darkness sets.

What are the spring rites of passage in your area? How are the seasons woven into your behaviors and habits? What signals, like birdsong or the ear crunching peepers, signal to you that spring has taken hold?