I've thought of a lot of ways of making money with my sheep, but having a sheep model isn't one of them. After seeing these pictures of Sierra, though, I think I may need to consider it! Can't you just see her gliding down a fashion runway?
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Sheep and Wool Visit
A group of handspinners from Sun City (near Phoenix) visited High Castle Ranch last month to meet the sheep and to buy some wool. These are a few pictures taken by one of my visitors.
Below, Sierra is nursing her lamb. When he gets a little bigger, he'll have to kneel to reach the milk!
Bernhardt is certainly the image of the classic Cotswold. Just look at that wool.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
A Sheep-Filled Welcome
I went to Phoenix yesterday. I left about 8:30 a.m. and got home pretty late, after 10:00 p.m. As I was going up the driveway when I got home, I saw a sheep, no, two, on my left. I thought "Oh, no, they've broken through the fence again." This happens from time to time, and I find them dispersed around the property, grazing.
But then I saw another sheep, Bernhardt, casually laying near our parked second car. I drove up to the house and was taken aback. There were a dozen sheep, plus lambs, lounging around the front porch, some laying down, others calmly standing. What were they all doing here?
I parked and got out. A couple sheep baa-ed in welcome, others rose to their feet and stretched, and Heloise's lamb started nursing. I loooked around in the dark and saw that pretty much the entire flock was nearby. It was the strangest thing.
I went into the house, changed clothes, and went out the downstairs door. There was one sheep in sight. I called to them and received a few answering baas. I clapped my hands and called again, and a few sheep came trotting down the hill from the front of the house. Another call from me, and the entire flock was suddenly at my heels. They excitedly followed me to the barn; I opened the gate, fed the sheep, repaired the area where they had escaped, counted sheep to make sure everyone had returned, and left them happily munching their hay.
Of all the places to decide to hang out, why the front porch? It was really cute and quite funny, but I'm still saying "huh?".
But then I saw another sheep, Bernhardt, casually laying near our parked second car. I drove up to the house and was taken aback. There were a dozen sheep, plus lambs, lounging around the front porch, some laying down, others calmly standing. What were they all doing here?
I parked and got out. A couple sheep baa-ed in welcome, others rose to their feet and stretched, and Heloise's lamb started nursing. I loooked around in the dark and saw that pretty much the entire flock was nearby. It was the strangest thing.
I went into the house, changed clothes, and went out the downstairs door. There was one sheep in sight. I called to them and received a few answering baas. I clapped my hands and called again, and a few sheep came trotting down the hill from the front of the house. Another call from me, and the entire flock was suddenly at my heels. They excitedly followed me to the barn; I opened the gate, fed the sheep, repaired the area where they had escaped, counted sheep to make sure everyone had returned, and left them happily munching their hay.
Of all the places to decide to hang out, why the front porch? It was really cute and quite funny, but I'm still saying "huh?".
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Wow, That's a Lot of Snow
An impressive snow storm came through Monday afternoon and evening. I haven't seen official snowfall totals, but we received at least 6".
Cotswold sheep love the cold, but they don't like rain and snow. They were quite put out. Everyone stayed crowded in the barn for two days -- what a mess. Now that the sheep are going out again, they are churning up the snow, which is melting, and the resulting mud is about 4" deep. It practically pulls off my boots when I step in it. I tried putting flakes of hay in the midst of nice, unmarked fields of snow, but the sheep don't want to wade out too far; they really sink. So, I put the hay flakes on clean snow right next to where they've already walked, so they can easily reach it while still standing in shallow snow or mud.
We had another lamb born on Friday -- a little black ewe with white tips on her ears. We've named her Lavender.
Cotswold sheep love the cold, but they don't like rain and snow. They were quite put out. Everyone stayed crowded in the barn for two days -- what a mess. Now that the sheep are going out again, they are churning up the snow, which is melting, and the resulting mud is about 4" deep. It practically pulls off my boots when I step in it. I tried putting flakes of hay in the midst of nice, unmarked fields of snow, but the sheep don't want to wade out too far; they really sink. So, I put the hay flakes on clean snow right next to where they've already walked, so they can easily reach it while still standing in shallow snow or mud.
We had another lamb born on Friday -- a little black ewe with white tips on her ears. We've named her Lavender.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Lambs Really Do Bounce
During the last three weeks, we've been inundated with lambs. We have six now -- four girls and two boys. It is amazing how fast they grow and how quickly they move from that fragile, newborn state to stout little bundles of energy. The oldest lamb, Salty, was bouncing (literally) at four days old.
Another youngster, Basil, who is now four days old himself, chased a hen this morning. He didn't just walk, trot, or run after the chicken, instead he bounced! His mother and two other sheep were grouped together eating hay. The hen and Basil went round and round them, the hen running, Basil bouncing. (I'm laughing just remembering it.) The chagrined hen finally stopped circling and ran towards another hen; next thing I knew, Basil was bouncing after two chickens.
We're using herbs and spices (and salt) as the theme for this year's names for the lambs. We now have Salty, Cinnamon, Nutmeg, Parsley, Basil, and Coriander.
Another youngster, Basil, who is now four days old himself, chased a hen this morning. He didn't just walk, trot, or run after the chicken, instead he bounced! His mother and two other sheep were grouped together eating hay. The hen and Basil went round and round them, the hen running, Basil bouncing. (I'm laughing just remembering it.) The chagrined hen finally stopped circling and ran towards another hen; next thing I knew, Basil was bouncing after two chickens.
We're using herbs and spices (and salt) as the theme for this year's names for the lambs. We now have Salty, Cinnamon, Nutmeg, Parsley, Basil, and Coriander.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
St. Paul the Hermit, Patron Saint of Weavers
Did you know there are more than a dozen patron saints of weaving? There are, and today happens to be the feast day St. Paul the Hermit, patron saint of weavers and the clothing industry.
Born about 230 at Lower Thebes, Egypt, he grew up in a Christian family. His parents died when he was 15, and a few years later, he fled into the desert to escape money-seeking relatives. He lived as a hermit in the desert for the rest of his long life (tradition has that he lived to the age of 113). He lived on bread (supplied by a raven), fruit, and water. He wore leaves or nothing at all. His biography was written by St. Jerome.
Considering his apparel (when he wore any) was leaves, I'm really not sure how he became the patron saint of weavers and the clothing industry....
Born about 230 at Lower Thebes, Egypt, he grew up in a Christian family. His parents died when he was 15, and a few years later, he fled into the desert to escape money-seeking relatives. He lived as a hermit in the desert for the rest of his long life (tradition has that he lived to the age of 113). He lived on bread (supplied by a raven), fruit, and water. He wore leaves or nothing at all. His biography was written by St. Jerome.
Considering his apparel (when he wore any) was leaves, I'm really not sure how he became the patron saint of weavers and the clothing industry....
Monday, December 1, 2008
Boys Will Be Boys (Even If They're Lambs)
While I was feeding the sheep this morning, I noticed that two of the ram lambs were "practicing" head butting.
Such activities are not unusual, but this pair were definitely mismatched. One of the lambs was Clare's Little One. (We've never got around to naming him; we just call him that in reference to his mother, Clare). He's a big, strapping youth, outgoing and with a friendly personality. The other "combatant" was Ficus. He's a bit of a runt, sweet but small.
So, there was Clare's Little One and Ficus going through the pre-contact motions: backing up, lowering their heads, and then rushing towards each other. The only problem was that Clare's Little One is about 6" taller than Ficus. Not surprisingly, they sort of missed each other and came to a rather confused stop.
At that point, I distracted them with the feed, so I don't know, if they were planning on trying again. However, I think Clare's Little One needs to move to a higher (and taller) class, while Ficus stays in the Junior League.
Such activities are not unusual, but this pair were definitely mismatched. One of the lambs was Clare's Little One. (We've never got around to naming him; we just call him that in reference to his mother, Clare). He's a big, strapping youth, outgoing and with a friendly personality. The other "combatant" was Ficus. He's a bit of a runt, sweet but small.
So, there was Clare's Little One and Ficus going through the pre-contact motions: backing up, lowering their heads, and then rushing towards each other. The only problem was that Clare's Little One is about 6" taller than Ficus. Not surprisingly, they sort of missed each other and came to a rather confused stop.
At that point, I distracted them with the feed, so I don't know, if they were planning on trying again. However, I think Clare's Little One needs to move to a higher (and taller) class, while Ficus stays in the Junior League.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Cats!
I love cats. We always had cats while I was growing up, but my boyfriend is allergic to them, so we haven't had any in the 17 years we've been together.
However, last winter the neighbors (who had about two dozen cats) moved but didn't take all their felines with them. I occasionally saw a big gray one and frequently noticed a smaller black one prowling around the barn. We started feeding them, since someone had to care for them. Well, guess what, last spring I went into the barn one day and found kittens. Big surprise, huh? The black cat turned out to be female and was now a mother. She hid when I entered the barn and carried off and hid her kittens as soon as I left. We've continued feeding the cats, but I've never been able to get close to any of them.
We knew we had to get everyone spayed or neutered (we didn't even know what gender the kittens were) before more kittens were born, especially since these kittens were now almost old enough to have babies themselves. The surgery can be kind of pricey, though, especially since we had three cats (mother and kittens) to be fixed; I don't think we'll ever be able to catch the big gray cat, Ghost, but at least he's male. We contacted various people and groups involved with animal rescue and found someone who connected us with United Animal Friends and a vet willing to work with feral cats and to spay/neuter them at a discount.
Now came the really difficult part: catching one semi-feral and two feral cats! I still can't believe how it all worked out.
I didn't give the cats much food that morning, so they would be hungry and waiting to be fed in the late afternoon. My cat-catching tools included a small dog carrier I borrowed from a neighbor, a can of tuna fish, some dry cat food, and a push broom. I poured some cat food in a dish and then drained the water off the tuna fish onto it. I placed the dish in the back of the dog carrier. Next, I positioned the front of the carrier about 6" from a wall, leaving the gate wide open. Then I hid around the side of the barn, holding the push broom.
One by one, the cats approached the carrier, sniffing it out of curiousity and scenting the tuna fish. The mother went in first, while one of the kittens made a large, cautious circuit of the area. Then the other kitten slowly investigated the carrier and went in. Finally, the first kitten returned, circled the carrier, and entered. As quietly as possible, I crept forward and, when near enough, used the push broom to shove the carrier against the wall, thus covering the door. All three cats were inside -- amazing!
Now came the more dangerous part (to me). I slid a board between the wall and the door of the carrier. I turned the carrier on end and carefully moved the board to one side while simultaneously closing the gate. At this point a paw (or maybe two) flashed out through the gate and got my hand. By the time I finished removing the board and closing and latching the gate, there was blood flowing pretty freely. Those claws had pierced my hand in four places and made two scratches. All in all, though, I got off pretty easy. Three cats mean 12 paws and many, many claws (and teeth, of course), so I actually managed the whole event with a fairly minimal injury.
Can you believe it, though? I caught all three cats at the same time and on the first try!
The story has a happy ending. The mother cat was spayed and the two kittens (who turned out to be male) were neutered, and they all received rabies vaccinations. I picked them up from the vet this morning. They were very happy to be released from that pet carrier, and now they're romping around, checking out their territory, and making sure everything is in order.
However, last winter the neighbors (who had about two dozen cats) moved but didn't take all their felines with them. I occasionally saw a big gray one and frequently noticed a smaller black one prowling around the barn. We started feeding them, since someone had to care for them. Well, guess what, last spring I went into the barn one day and found kittens. Big surprise, huh? The black cat turned out to be female and was now a mother. She hid when I entered the barn and carried off and hid her kittens as soon as I left. We've continued feeding the cats, but I've never been able to get close to any of them.
We knew we had to get everyone spayed or neutered (we didn't even know what gender the kittens were) before more kittens were born, especially since these kittens were now almost old enough to have babies themselves. The surgery can be kind of pricey, though, especially since we had three cats (mother and kittens) to be fixed; I don't think we'll ever be able to catch the big gray cat, Ghost, but at least he's male. We contacted various people and groups involved with animal rescue and found someone who connected us with United Animal Friends and a vet willing to work with feral cats and to spay/neuter them at a discount.
Now came the really difficult part: catching one semi-feral and two feral cats! I still can't believe how it all worked out.
I didn't give the cats much food that morning, so they would be hungry and waiting to be fed in the late afternoon. My cat-catching tools included a small dog carrier I borrowed from a neighbor, a can of tuna fish, some dry cat food, and a push broom. I poured some cat food in a dish and then drained the water off the tuna fish onto it. I placed the dish in the back of the dog carrier. Next, I positioned the front of the carrier about 6" from a wall, leaving the gate wide open. Then I hid around the side of the barn, holding the push broom.
One by one, the cats approached the carrier, sniffing it out of curiousity and scenting the tuna fish. The mother went in first, while one of the kittens made a large, cautious circuit of the area. Then the other kitten slowly investigated the carrier and went in. Finally, the first kitten returned, circled the carrier, and entered. As quietly as possible, I crept forward and, when near enough, used the push broom to shove the carrier against the wall, thus covering the door. All three cats were inside -- amazing!
Now came the more dangerous part (to me). I slid a board between the wall and the door of the carrier. I turned the carrier on end and carefully moved the board to one side while simultaneously closing the gate. At this point a paw (or maybe two) flashed out through the gate and got my hand. By the time I finished removing the board and closing and latching the gate, there was blood flowing pretty freely. Those claws had pierced my hand in four places and made two scratches. All in all, though, I got off pretty easy. Three cats mean 12 paws and many, many claws (and teeth, of course), so I actually managed the whole event with a fairly minimal injury.
Can you believe it, though? I caught all three cats at the same time and on the first try!
The story has a happy ending. The mother cat was spayed and the two kittens (who turned out to be male) were neutered, and they all received rabies vaccinations. I picked them up from the vet this morning. They were very happy to be released from that pet carrier, and now they're romping around, checking out their territory, and making sure everything is in order.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Cleaning Cotswold Fleece
I clean my Cotswold fleece by first shaking the fleece nice and hard for several minutes to remove as much vegetable matter (VM) as possible. It's amazing how much VM comes out just from shaking. Those beautiful curls unfortunately can hold (and hide) all sorts of bits of hay and stuff.
I wash it pretty much as wool from any other breed of sheep -- using hot water and mild soap. I start by soaking the fleece in plain cold water two or three times. A lot of excess dirt and sweat come out that way. Then I put the wool in the soap and hot water, letting it soak for about 10 minutes. (Don't let the wash water get cold; the dirt and grease will reattach to the wool.) Next, I remove the fleece from the wash water and put it in clean water to rinse it. I usually perform the rinse process at least twice, sometimes three times, until the rinse water is clear.
In general, I think you have to worry less about felting with Cotswold wool than with some finer wools. It can felt but not nearly as easily as Merino, for example.
Lay the wool in a sunny, clean place to dry. Placing it on a screen or a chain-link gate on the ground allows air to circulate and dries the fleece faster.
After it dries, you may have to remove more VM (those curls, again). Opening up the locks a bit and shaking again can help with that.
Remember: when washing any wool, do not agitate or wring the fiber. Don't temperature-shock it (i.e., don't put it in hot water and then immediately in cold water or vice versa). Don't let water run directly on the wool; fill the wash basin with water (and soap) before you put the fiber in.
Good luck!
I wash it pretty much as wool from any other breed of sheep -- using hot water and mild soap. I start by soaking the fleece in plain cold water two or three times. A lot of excess dirt and sweat come out that way. Then I put the wool in the soap and hot water, letting it soak for about 10 minutes. (Don't let the wash water get cold; the dirt and grease will reattach to the wool.) Next, I remove the fleece from the wash water and put it in clean water to rinse it. I usually perform the rinse process at least twice, sometimes three times, until the rinse water is clear.
In general, I think you have to worry less about felting with Cotswold wool than with some finer wools. It can felt but not nearly as easily as Merino, for example.
Lay the wool in a sunny, clean place to dry. Placing it on a screen or a chain-link gate on the ground allows air to circulate and dries the fleece faster.
After it dries, you may have to remove more VM (those curls, again). Opening up the locks a bit and shaking again can help with that.
Remember: when washing any wool, do not agitate or wring the fiber. Don't temperature-shock it (i.e., don't put it in hot water and then immediately in cold water or vice versa). Don't let water run directly on the wool; fill the wash basin with water (and soap) before you put the fiber in.
Good luck!
Thursday, April 3, 2008
A Glimpse into the Life of a Shepherd
Just before midnight on Saturday, I woke up hearing a sheep baa outside the bedroom window. The barn and sheep pasture are NOT near the bedroom. I got up and dressed and went out to find about half the sheep roaming around the property. (The property is fenced, but there are lots of things, including plants, that I don't want the sheep to get in to.) I also discovered the reason the rest of the sheep weren't out was because a rather large ewe was stuck in the hole in the fence they had made, baa-ing her head off in annoyance.
I tried to get her out, but she was really stuck. I finally managed to get all the other sheep corralled (involving much bribery with hay) and then returned to my stuck-sheep problem. Apparently she had gone through the larger hole made by her predecessors but then got her head and the front of her body in a smaller hole. It was dark, and the sheep and I were wedged between the fence and a scrub oak. With a lot of pulling (of wire) and pushing (of sheep) I finally got her out.
After I returned her to the pasture, I had to figure out how to cover the hole in the fence, so the whole "great escape" didn't happen again a half hour later. I took a chain-link gate that I use for drying wool and lugged it back to the sheep pasture. I then barricaded the hole with the gate and bungy-corded it in place.
By now it was almost 1:00 am, and I had to take a shower after my close encounter with the stuck sheep. I stayed up another hour or so, letting my hair dry and reading a mystery novel, and then finally went to bed. Needless to say, I got a late start on Sunday, but at least all of the sheep were still in the pasture!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Posts
