It's that time of year again...

Breeding season...for sheep. How do I know? My yearling ram Twist has busted out of his pasture for the last 3 nights in a row. And he's not alone. I've talked to a few other shepherds in my area, and the same thing has been happening in the last few days to their rams. Some have been luckier than Twist and have gotten to the ewes earlier than planned, which will mean lambs born in March, which is too cold for my style of lambing.


Rams in their pen (clockwise from L-R: Ferris, Benjamin, Bok Choy and Twist)

As the nights get cooler, the breeding rams start being more interested in the ewes across the fence than they are in their food. The annoying thing about Twist is that I don't know how he's getting out. The fence is 4 feet high and I've heard that if they want to get on the other side, they can jump, but I still find that hard to believe. I've checked my fence and there is an area where the fence has come loose from the post (a tree actually) and it's possible that he is shimmying under the fence, but I find that hard to believe as well. It's a page wire fence, and he has horns that could get stuck, so I just can't imagine rams being able to do that. Just in case, I put old hay bales in the area where the fence is loose (I'm currently out of fence staples) to prevent him from "crawling" underneath, but he still got out late that afternoon. I may also put a wire line on the fence another foot up to increase the height of my fence. The funny thing about Twist, is that he is getting out, but on the forest side of his pasture. His pasture has a common line with the girl's pasture, yet he isn't using the quickest route. Until he figures out his next step, he munches happily away on the scrub in the forest and picking up burrs in his fleece to irritate me come shearing time. I'm starting to think that he is enjoying his game, because to get him back, I shake a scoop of grain at him, allowing him to get a mouthful before I get him to follow me around the pasture and back into his enclosure. Yesterday I managed to tease him with the grain, enough to follow me, without ever giving him any...he's not going to get the better of me! Leading the ram back to his pasture is a bit of a comical sight as I carry the grain scoop in one hand and an empty 18L water jug in the other, walking backwards being ready to thwart his attempts to butt me in his frustration. What must the neighbours think?

What is a Farmer?

Some of you may have heard me talk about when I will feel I'm a real farmer. If you haven't, it involves chickens, too many roosters, and dinner (fill in the blanks). But today, I was working out in the sheep barn and cleaning out the weaned ewe lamb's pen and I got to thinkin'...

For some reason, I've gotten it into my head that "the chicken thing" is when I will feel credible as a farmer. I have laying chickens, but mostly, I have Shetland sheep. I've been breeding them, I trim their feet, I give them their shots, I've assisted occasionally in birthings and I've even shorn some myself. All this gives me products: I've sold some sheep, my first lamb's fleeces have just sold out quickly, and I've taken some lambs to the butcher last December and although we haven't sold any of the meat yet, I can proudly say that we have eaten a lot of what we had processed and it was delicious. Yet, I somehow still don't consider myself a farmer. And its not because I don't want to be, but its because I haven't achieved that strange lofty goal I've set for myself.

If I'm not a farmer, then what am I? Could I be a hobbyist? NO! I can't stand being considered a hobby farmer. I have hobbies and I enjoy them greatly, but mucking out a sheep barn and raking out several months worth of hay and manure, sweating and having an aching back is NOT a Hobby. It's true, I am not making enough money to support myself on this venture, and Hugh (and I) have put in more money into this than we are earning from it, so what is it? I like considering myself a small farmer, doing my part for my family, raising our food and knowing where it came from and being amazed at how much better it tastes when compared to store bought. I like the connection of using up all the products from the farm to have healthy gardens and being able to make clothing and blankets and household textiles. I like trying to keep the traditions of small sustainable family farms as an example to future generations. I'm comforted in the belief that small farms and the genetic diversity of their livestock and crops have a place in our future and are worth preserving. And from all that I still believe that I can carve out a small business for myself and someday make it profitable or at the very least sustaining.

So I've determined that I am a farmer "in training". For a "city girl", with the country in her heart and genes, it wasn't possible for me to jump in and start farming full-time with a definite purpose. Some have done it and I admire them greatly. But that's not what I wanted to do and I needed to explore where I fit in. Someday, I'll report on how much my "farming education" has cost us, but I'm still in training.

I was thinkin' all this as I was cleaning out part of the sheep shed. I wasn't supposed to be doing that today, but as I went to feed the girls this morning, the lamb's pen was piled so high that it was on level with the lip of the feeder and I decided it was time. A new type of hay in the last few weeks has meant a lot of waste and much of it has quickly piled onto the floor of their pen. There has to be a more efficient way of dealing with this, but, I haven't figured it out yet. I pull all the bedding out of the shed with a rake and pitchfork and pile it just outside the door. This pile was huge, mainly because it was mostly loose hay and sheep manure. There was so much of it that I could barely pile it away from the doorway. In the past, I'd wait for Hugh to use the tractor to move the pile onto my manure pile a distance away. Hugh has patiently taught me how to ride the tractor several times, but I keep forgetting or find it too complicated to remember all the steps. Luckily today was warm (no reason to have diesel frozen in the lines of the tractor), so I decided to try and see if I could start the tractor and move that pile myself. It worked and I managed to figure things out: how to change gears, move the bucket up and down and tilt it forward and back, how to scoop things up, how to dump, how to get my butt off the tractor and keep the engine running. I gained understanding of the little nicks in fences and cuts in power cords that I've had to endure with Hugh's manoeuvering of the tractor, with my own little bending of fence wire and scraping of siding on the sheep shed. I accomplished my task and learned how to use the tractor with confidence, and it occured to me that I can call myself a farmer, now that I can handle the tractor, and never mind about the silly chickens.

Labour Day weekend

Perplexed flock...
"What is all that noise...and who is that guy taking over our house?"

Labour Day weekend saw Hugh working in the sheep shed building the loft so that I can store hay. The loft was completed with venting, windows and doors and a ladder the following weekend. It can now store just over 6o small square bales and a small section left open for Brianna's "loft playhouse", complete with clothesline. Brianna spent a lot of time hanging out with Daddy while he did his work, bringing him things as he needed them and chatting with him.


I also introduced a game from my childhood memories of Grammie & Grampie's farm to Aidan and Brianna...Croquet. Here they are having a game of it.


Aidan and Brianna playing Croquet on the front lawn Labour Day weekend.

Baby Chicks

Silkie Hen getting broody

About a month ago, my little white Silkie Bantam hen decided it was time to start laying her first eggs. She was born here on the farm last summer. I left her eggs alone and finally, when she had a nest full, she started sitting on them. She is my natural incubator and that is why I bought Silkie bantam chickens to begin with. I removed her eggs and replaced them with my bigger laying chicken's eggs. Today there are 2 little chicks sitting calmly under her wings in the nest box with 2 more large eggs left to hatch and 1 of her own that she laid about a week after she starting sitting on them.

One chick is black (likely from the Barred Plymouth Rock mom) and the other is golden with brown striping on its back (likely from the Rhode Island Red cross). The father is Aladin, an Americauna chicken.

The story of this little hen is very interesting. She is in a small chicken house with her father, a white Silkie Bantam rooster. She was 1 of 4 Silkie Bantam chicks hatched out last September by her mother. 3 of the little chicks died within 48 hours and only this little hen chick was left. Her mother was ill looking for several weeks and finally died as well. So all I had left was the Silkie Rooster and this little chick who was well taken care of during the day by her father, but at night would peep very loudly because she was cold and her father would jump up to roost on his perch and the little chick couldn't get there. Silkie Roosters are also very well known for being good dads and this fellow is certainly that. I've seen it when he has cared for 2 other broods (chick litters). I had a few options for this little chick: I could take it inside and put it under a heat lamp (but because she was alone, it was not ideal and it would be labour intensive for me), or I could leave her in the chicken house and hope for the best. I decided to leave her, the cooler temperatures would make her feather out quickly, if she survived. I would put her up on the perch next to her dad and she would cuddle under his wings or between his feet and be warm, but she invariably would lose her balance and fall off and start to peep loudly. A mother hen will stay on the bottom and keep her chicks warm, so I kept trying to think about what I could put on the bottom to keep this one warm. I have sheep, and fleece, so I grabbed a handful of washed fleece (I think it was Tommy's wool) and made a fluffy pile and laid it in the bottom. This chick didn't know what to do, so I shoved her under the pile. Eventually, she settled, sometimes sticking her head out of the pile of wool, but mostly staying under it. She survived the first night and every night for over a month, my evening ritual was to shove this little chick under the pile of sheep's wool until she was big enough to roost on the perch next to her dad. She survived the winter and eventually I discovered to my absolute joy that she was a hen and hopefully, she would carry on her mother's broody instincts and be my natural incubator. When her chicks are done and ready to leave her, I will put my black Silkie Rooster with her and then maybe she can raise her own chicks. But for now, my white Silkie rooster will again help raise a batch of chicks.

BTW, Silkie Bantam chickens are small size chickens (ie: bantam) that are lacking the barbicels/hooks on the ends of the feather fibres, which gives them a fluffy, sheepy look to them. The hens have a strong broody instinct (meaning they want to sit and hatch out their eggs) with the roosters making good fathers. I got these chickens for their broody instincts and because I thought I could spin their feathers into some novelty feather yarns. I collect the feathers when they naturally discard them. For more information on Silkie Bantams go to http://www.americansilkiebantamclub.org/about_silkies.htm

Last little lamb

Emma with Felicity

Emma finally had her little lamb. It was in the barn surprising me when I got there this morning. It was wobbly, but fairly dry. Another Katmoget lamb from my white ram Twist. He hasn't thrown his dominant white gene at all this time. Emma's lamb is a sweet tiny 2.1kg ewe lamb named Felicity.

Felicity

Cheeky lambs

The little lamb in the front, making a face at me is Elphaba, Dot's little twin ewe. The lambs like to hang around this spot...a lamb playground. Nessa Rose (Morgan's ewe lamb) is behind Elphaba, Natasha (Meg's ewe lamb) is on the left. At the back left is Una (Tess' ewe lamb) and Quinn (Peaches' ram lamb) on the back right.


This is Meg the other day with her black twin ewe lambs: Nadia (right) and Natasha (left). Natasha has more white on her face. These ewe lambs have gorgeous little faces. Meg is a fantastic mom and her daughter from last year is Morgan (see below).


Meg's lambs hanging out at the lamb playground. Nadia is in the front with Natasha in the back.


Morgan with her ewe lamb Nessa Rose. This little lamb has so many colours happening. Her legs are black and brown and her body is brown spotting on mainly a light grey body. Her head has brown, grey and black.

Nessa Rose closer up. She is out of Willowgarden Twist, my white ram.

I'm still waiting for Emma to have her lamb. She is the last girl left to go. I'm hoping this lamb will be white.

Morgan has a little lamb

I'm leaving for Alliston, ON tomorrow for the Ontario Handweavers' & Spinners' conference where I will partake in workshops, vendor shopping, a banquet and meet up with my classmates in the OHS spinning certificate course where we will have our graduation ceremony. In setting everything up for Hugh to take over for 3 days, I noticed Morgan was in labour. I rearranged the girls again and put her and Emma (still waiting) in the lambing pen. I closed off the old pasture and cleaned out the other end of the pen in the shed. I've only got the center part to clean up now from the long winter.

Morgan was not a happy girl. Her lamb was not presenting normally. Only 1 front foot and the head. The other foot was bent. I read up what I had to do and got ready. She was not cooperating. She would barely let me touch her. Eventually the head and foot were fully presenting by then and there was no way to get her other leg forward. After trying to help Morgan to no avail, I gave in and ran for my neighbour Pam, but she wasn't home. I went back to the shed panicking a bit and trying to figure out what I should do. Finally I pinned Morgan to the wall with my knee and pulled and jiggled that lamb out as gently but forcefully as I could on each contraction. She thankfully tumbled out. I thought she'd by dead by now, but no, once the umbilical cord was severed, she started to try breathing. Another beautiful ewe lamb with the same Katmoget pattern as my 2 other lambs out of Twist (Una & Quinn). Funny thing is that Twist is white and white is dominant over all other pattern genes, but he also carries the Katmoget pattern and that is the gene he is throwing to all his lambs, not the white.....yet. I still have Emma left and she is my last hope to get a cute little white lamb. I haven't taken a picture yet, nor named the ewe lamb, but she weighed 3.1 kg.