A NIGHT OUT

Last night Jan and I took a break and attended a performance of the Oregon Symphony Orchestra with guest artist Joshua Bell at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall in downtown Portland. It was a spontaneous decision to go and I figure spontaneity is always a good thing, especially when its so easy to get buried in the consistent rhythms of farm life. As I sat waiting for the performance to begin I took in the opulence of this great restored concert hall and reflected on how blessed we are. Here I am in this great hall next to folks that are dressed in something other than boots and blue jeans. There's chandeliers rather than fly-specked bare light bulbs, beautifully sculpted carpet rather than dirt floor with straw highlights, the tinkling of wine glasses rather than the peeping of insistent chicks, the sweetly mixed smell of perfumes and and colognes rather than - well, I think you get the picture. Earlier in the day Jan cleaned out the chicken coop and I was still recovering from unloading and stacking 3 tons of grass hay in the ram barn the day before. And later, in the same day, we're at a performance of the Oregon Symphony Orchestra - amazing.

One of the pieces played was the "Orchestral Suite from The Tender Land" by Aaron Copeland, one of my favorite composers. The melodies remained with me yet this morning as I did my chores and checked out the health of the pastures. I was anxious to see how they were responding to the recent warm rains and was pleased to see a growth of new grass. This should give the flock some good feed, reduce our dependency on baled hay, and at the very least give the pastures a healthy secure basis as they enter the winter months. Copeland provided a whole new way to view my "tender land" and I gained a whole new appreciation of what we had accomplished here, and what still awaits us. My time in the pasture took a little longer than usual, the sheep seemed a bit more at peace, the clouds were whiter, the skies were bluer, the grass was greener, the rain was wetter, and the warm was warmer.

I think Copeland stuck with Jan as well but maybe in a bit different direction. As I return to the house after my chores, I normally find Jan reading the morning newspaper with her first cup of coffee. This morning I found her barefoot, in my bathrobe, and a pair of rubber gloves on the kitchen porch tending her natural dye pots. I guess beautiful music can move us all.

SURPRISE AT DUSK

The other evening I wanted to move the rams from one of our lower pastures back up to the barn for the night. I normally leave them out at night and they seem to enjoy sleeping under some of the big Doug firs along the fenceline. I had planned to rotate them to a new pasture in the morning so thought I'd just get ahead of the plan a bit. And besides it was a pleasant evening. Our sheep have learned to come to me with a call of "Sheep, sheep, sheep". They know to move away from me with a call of "Up, up, up". This has allowed me to have them follow me or I can herd them from behind the flock depending on the need. No matter which I use, Melody our guard llama seems always to bring up the rear. Of course when she's moving the sheep on her own she pretty much is always in the lead.

So back to the task of moving the rams. I knew they were below a slight hill and out of sight. Rather than hike down the hill to herd them up I called out "Sheep, sheep, sheep" and they soon began their way up the hill toward me at the gate. As I started back to the barn I looked back over my shoulder to make sure all were following and noted the flock had grown by five. Three deer and two barn cats (Barney and Gunther). The deer soon came to the realization that it may not be in their best interest to respond to my voice commands and be following me. It was as if a switch was turned on and over the fence and into the woods they bolted. The cats stayed the course.

I can only attribute this rather strange behavior to the fact that the deer saw that the sheep were very quick to respond to my call and they must have thought the sheep sensed a danger. Because they couldn't sense any danger themselves they figured they would go along with the sheep just in case. Once they realized I was in the lead they decided to return to being deer.

CLOSING SUMMER

Summer is coming to a close. The grandkids will be leaving us soon to return home and to school. They've both seem to have grown so much this summer. Our laying hens are now comfortable in their rolling coop in the pasture. We recently did a bit of remodeling and constructed new nesting boxes. I noted tonight as I closed them up for the night that all were using the boxes, so hopefully our first crop of fresh eggs will be soon delivered. We also just completed a rolling chicken run for our fryers. It should be easy enough to move that we can move it to fresh ground each day. After a touch-and-go garden season with a cold wet Spring and a hot-dry summer, the vegetable garden is looking pretty productive and harvest has begun. I still think if we get any ripe tomatoes, it will be a miracle.

Our newly installed solar photovoltaic panels have finally passed the final inspection and we are now producing electricity. We even have a new meter that shows whether we are either pulling in electricity from the utility or pushing out power to the grid. Its not as if I sit and stare at this meter for hours however on the sunniest days I tend to check it out more often. PGE, our utility, estimates that our 2.4 kW system will reduce our carbon dioxide emissions by 2165 pounds annually. We're now part of a solar powered grid producing enough electricity to power over 1,263 homes a year. That feels pretty good.

SORRY FOR THE ABSENCE

The other day someone pointed out to me that I had not composed a blog entry for some time. To tell you the truth, I didn't think anyone was actually reading my blogs. And, we've been pretty busy around here and I just didn't carve out anytime to write. I'm going to try to get back into a routine that will include a bit of writing once in awhile. If nothing else, it will require me to sit down, relax a bit and celebrate the life we live here on the farm. And it will allow me to reflect on what we have accomplished and dream of what is yet to come. So to catch up since Spring weaning:

The grandkids have returned for another summer session of Grandma and "Papa" summer camp. That includes swim lessons, tennis lessons, and an art school.

We took a few of our animals to Black Sheep Gathering in Eugene. We didn't show too well but I attribute that to our late lambing and thus small stature lambs.

A lot of cold rain this Spring that seemed to help out pastures but was tough on our vegetable garden. I've had to mow the pastures twice already to keep the grasses from going to seed. At this writing, the hot dry season has set in and I've begun to feed hay remaining from last year, though the sheep still seem to prefer the pastures.

Melody, our guard llama, still never ceases to amaze me. The other day I had called the ewes up to the barn. When Melody didn't come with the ewes I was quick to accuse her of being obstinate and I started down into the pasture in a foul mood to get her. As I crested the knob that keeps the bottom of the pasture from view I saw Melody herding 4 ewes up to the barn. She had heard me and was only trying to move the 4 ewes that hadn't heard me. I was quick to apologize.

We've joined a local venture, the Sandy Area Farm Loop. This is a group of local area small farms that the public is welcome to visit, particularly on week-ends. No visitors yet, but the new brochure/map has not yet been printed and their website has not been updated to include Drumcliffe Farm.

We're only a couple of days away plugging in our new array of photovoltaic panels that will hopefully generate a significant portion of our electricity needs. This has been a long term dream and the house was designed and sited on the property with this objective in mind.

Speaking of conservation matters, our 1500 gallon rain cistern is now fully operational. This collects rain water from the roof which we use to water the vegetable garden. When there is no rain, the cistern is slow-filled from our well. Seems to work well and will work even more efficiently once I've expanded the drip irrigation system.

Our chicks (we're running a bit late on this one) are just about to be released from the brooding box in the barn to the pasture and their coop on wheels. The idea here is to roll these layers into the pasture as the sheep are rotated out. Once the brooder box is empty I hope to start a crop of fryers.

We've registered for the Oregon Flock and Fiber Festival in September where we'll once again show a few of our sheep and have a small retail space in the animal barn. We're scrambling to produce product for this show as well as keep our regular customers provided with fleece.

And of course we've had our regular share of visitors and celebrations on the farm. Both family and friends. Right now we are hosting Sarah Swett from Moscow, Idaho who is here to teach a special tapestry class at the Damascus Fiber Arts School.

And finally, speaking of family, we'll soon be packing up the grandkids for a trip to San Francisco to meet their new cousin who'll be arriving in the United States from Ethiopia with his new parents within the next couple of days. What a dear blessing!

I promise my blog posts will be more frequent.

THE SHEPHERD

I've recently had another opportunity to understand how my role as shepherd is defined. This has always been a humbling experience, probably because its not me doing the defining. The role of shepherd has evolved over centuries and even a control freak like me can do little to influence it one way or another.

We began weaning the lambs the other day. And like so many events here at Drumcliffe Farm, the experienced ewes are quick to recognize that their lives or environment have been altered, not necessarily in a good way. It always amazes me that the very same animals that are normally sure to keep their safe distance from me are just as quick to seek me out during times of stress or danger to seek a solution. Its not as if they they see me as the solution, its more that they expect me to find the solution - fix the problem. It started in the morning as we brought all the sheep into the barn from the pastures to sort out the lambs. Our neighbors, friends, and family had gone into the pasture to gather up the sheep and push them to the barnyard. At that moment, I realized that the sheep saw these strangers as a potential danger and I directed my help to the sides and simply called the flock to me. They calmly followed me right into the barnyard. The day ended with the lambs separated from their mothers and the annual lamb/ewe chorus began in earnest. I left Melody, our guard llama with the lambs, which calmed them. However, the ewes were on their own. For the next few days I could see it in their eyes. They weren't angry, or scared, accusatory. They simply and honestly wanted me to bring their lambs back to them. But they still trusted me to do what was right. In time after a few days, they still sensed that I could fix what they perceived as a problem, but their acceptance slowly grew.

This is difficult to explain to someone that has never experienced caring for a domesticated animal like sheep. Its not the same relationship as a with a pet cat or a pet dog. A human/pet relationship is more of a mutual benefit sort of thing, and dogs and cats have evolved (with our selective breeding) for thousands of years to fill an especially unique companion role. Domesticated farm animals have also evolved (with our help again) to fill a bit different role. Sheep, even the supposed "primitive" breed like our Jacobs, depend on the shepherd to survive. They would not exist without the shepherd. I know that and I believe they know it as well. I know there are a few exceptions of sheep and goats "going rogue" and surviving in the "wild", but that is not a viable self-sustaining population.

I have a healthy relationship with my flock. I understand my stewardship responsibilities and provide their needs. I thank them for their service to me and honor their existence. I am truly blessed.

PICTURES

Yesterday we took time off from getting the garden in to take photos of this year's lamb crop and get a first chance to really assess their fleece. We have photos of each sheep at a few days old but feel that you need to give them a few weeks to begin to display their true selves. Of course it was a real rodeo! A lot of chasing around, waving our arms, running in circles, swearing, and calling out in frustration. Chaos and confusion ruled the day. It was as if this was a brand new strange alien world for all involved with shocking surprises around every corner. Just as we'd think we had it under control, we'd be kicked back to square one. And the noise! My God, The caterwauls, the pleading to the heavens. You'd think it was the end of the world.

And that was just trying to edit the pictures and get them loaded onto our computer! I'll tell you of us trying to catch the sheep in another blog.

ANTHROPOMORPHIZE

Anthropomorphize. What an interesting word and what an even more interesting concept. Fun to say too. I'm no Latin expert but the two key roots of the word as I understand it are anthro and morph (human and form). The dictionary defines anthropomorphize as "to ascribe human characteristics to things not human". I've been accused of being anthropomorphic and I'll admit right here and now that I'm guilty! Not only guilty but a bit proud of it. I do have a philosophical problem with the term itself. It seems more than a bit egocentric on the part of the specie Homo sapien. More accurately, speciecentric. I bet my sheep often ascribe sheep characteristics and behavior to me. And that's my point. It seems pretty logical that I would see similarities between my sheep and myself, and other two-legged residents of Drumcliffe Farm. We certainly share a lot of the same genetic code and we evolved from a common ancestor. (I'm still waiting for an invitation to that family reunion.) Spend some time on a sheep farm during this season of pregnancy, lambing, young lambs, and weaning and I guarantee that you'll be ascribing all kinds of human characteristics to the sheep.

And here's another one: "Sheep are stupid." I can't think of anything further from the truth. They know exactly what is going on and they certainly have enough intelligence to outsmart me. I have one ewe that will pretend to be eating hay from a manger that I built right next to the gate I open and close regularly as I go about my chores. She knows that a bit of grain and the fresh stack of hay are stored on the other side of that gate. If I'm looking at her she'll be standing at the manger pretending to eat hay and will be completely ignoring me. She's not really eating anything -just goes through the motions. As soon as I turn my back she focuses right in on me and the gate latch. If I turn around she goes right back to her act. If I give her any space at all, and she thinks I'm not watching, she makes her move and slips through the gate. Of course she never makes it to the grain or haystack before I catch her. I'm beginning to think her objective is not the grain or the hay but is the game itself.

I love to watch the lambs this time of year, before they're weaned. They have so much to learn. Most of their first days are all instinct and their behaviors are hard-wired: standing, nursing, jumping, responding to mother's call, etc. But after a couple of days they venture away from their mothers to learn for themselves and to explore their world and capabilities. I get the biggest kick when I first perceive their recognition of me and how they try to make sense of who I am and why I am important in their world. Am I someone to be avoided, someone they could trust, or a bit of both? Of course it all depends on how their mother perceives of me, but once I see that they are beginning to figure the whole thing out for themselves, I try to respond in a positive non-threatening way. I figure that will pay dividends in the long run.