Hmmmm...

I'm playing with the blog post and display settings.   For your viewing pleasure, while I play, you may gaze at my favorite photo of the month.   

I love this photo.   Even the end of a dye day is pretty.  

In the studio

Yeah, I'm in the studio a lot these days.    This is what I did on Monday:

Sea.   I love this color.   It's the color of butterflies singing. 

In the studio

New yarn..   Good for knitting and crochet.  Especially nice for weaving.   [Notice that great new color 'Storm' at the bottom right of the photo below.]

Cotton Rayon Boucle.  1500 ypp.   225 yd/skein.   $16

This yarn has a fine strand of cotton and a fine strand of rayon run together.  Here's a closer look.

House Finches and Purple Finches

There are two kinds of "red" finches that frequent our feeders: house finches and purple finches. They look very similar, so let's talk about their differences.

Roger Tory Peterson described purple finches as "sparrows dipped in raspberry juice." They are patchy red all the way down to the tail, with very little brown on them; as opposed to house finches which have a red breast and brown wings and head.  Their songs are also different, listen to the Purple finch here, and the house finch here, (When you get there, you'll need to scroll down for both).

Purple finch (Carpodacus purpureus). 
Photo: Thomas Klak

Purple finches are a bit bigger than house finches.   The females are very streaky and they have a light eyebrow - in the males, the eyebrow shows up as a lighter red patch.  They have a distinct red patch at their tail, visible just under their wings.   You can see it in the photo right.   


 

House finch (Carpodacus mexicanus)
Photo: Birdfreak.com

House finches have distinct brown stripes on their lower body and a very small red patch above the tail.  Their cheeks are brown, not red.

Guess that bird...

These beauties visit us off and on all year. They have a beautiful song.   This is a male; the females are striped and brown. 

photo: birdfreak.com

 Hint: These are quite "homely" birds.  Extra points if you can tell me the name of the bird it's often confused with.


Answer below the fold...

Coconut Lime Sorbet

For Christmas last year, I got the gang a Kitchenaid mixer with an ice cream maker attachment.   We love it!  The girls got creative with it again this weekend.   Coconut Lime Sorbet in homemade ice cream cones. 

K1 made the cones with a recipe from allrecipes.com.
K2 made the sorbet.  Here's the recipe:

Coconut Lime Sorbet
1 1/2 C sugar
1 1/2 C water
1 can coconut milk [13.5 oz]
1/4 C lime juice

Make a syrup with the sugar and water.   Bring to a boil and boil until it's clear.  Stir constantly.  Set aside to cool.

Whisk the coconut milk and lime juice into the syrup.  Refrigerate until chilled.  

Freeze in an ice cream maker following the manufacturer's instructions.   It'll be soft when it's done, so pop it back in the freezer to finish firming up.

Mozzarella and Dipping Herbs

March is the cruelest month.  I don't care what the poet says.   March is all about betrayal.    You start trusting that things are going to get warm and grow and bloom and then, Bam!, 50 mile an hour winds that are ripping trees out of the ground and cold weather again with snow.    March stinks.

It takes a lot of midwestern fortitude to survive the vagaries of March.   Fortitude and mozzarella.

Fortitude, mozzarella and olive oil.

Ok, maybe fortitude, mozzarella, olive oil and dipping herbs. 

Yeah.

Fresh Mozzarella with Olive Oil and Dipping Herbs

Fresh mozzarella is easy to make.    Do yourself a favor, fork out a few bucks and buy Ricki's 30 minute mozzarella kit from www.cheesemaking.com.    $24.95.   Enough to make 30 batches [30 lbs].   And it really only takes 30 minutes.    Really.   The best money I ever spent on cheese [so far...]  If K2 had her way, we'd have mama mozzarella every day, for every meal.  

Once you have your mozz made, you need something fabulous to eat it with.    Like some good quality olive oil and some dipping herbs.

We first encountered dipping herbs at a higher end restaurant in town.  When they brought the fancy bread to the table, they brought out little dishes of olive oil into which they put spoonfuls of herbs.   They told us it was for dipping.       

As we are very obliging folks, we dipped and it was love at first dip.  An enduring, everlasting kind of love.   The kind of love that causes one to weep with anguish when parted from the object of one's affection.   Obviously, there was only one thing to do.   One had to go home and concoct one's own recipe.

And so one did.  And now one is going to share it with you here.   Trust me, March will never be the same.    

Robin's Fabulous Dipping Herbs
1/4 C rosemary crushed [not powder]
1/4 C thyme
1/4 C oregano
1/4 C basil [optional]
1/4 tsp fresh black pepper, ground
1 Tb salt 
1 Tb red pepper flakes. 

Use dried herbs so you can mix a bunch up and store it.    If all you have is whole rosemary, then use 1/2 again as much rosemary and toss the whole mess into a grinder or food processor for a minute or two until the rosemary is crushed.

To use, put a teaspoon of dipping herbs into a tablespoon or so of olive oil.   Add more oil or herb to taste.

Experience will help you adjust the flavors in the next batch to suit you better - more or less salt, pepper, etc.

Tip:  If you love this enough to eat it all quickly, it's great if you make the mix and then add enough olive oil to cover it all.  Stir it in and let it sit.  The herb really infuses the oil, which helps meld the flavors.  It'll keep well for a couple of weeks in the fridge. Just add more oil when you're ready to serve it.

Beaver Tree

We have beavers about a mile down the road from us.   This is one of the trees they took down last year.  Wow.

Update:  Every time I look at this pic, I have to wonder what finally knocked the tree over. Did the beaver burp, wipe his face, and polish his front teeth on his sleeve, while nonchalantly leaning on the tree with the other hand? Was the other beaver there hollering 'A little more to the left. Left! LEFT!'

In the studio

I've been playing with black dye.   This is the first time I have ever used a color, straight out of the jar without mixing it with some other color. 

Of course, I had to get two different versions because black looks different on different fibers.   And, sure enough, these two blacks were pretty different. 

For protein fibers [wool, silk], I really like #250 Jet from Dharma Trading Company.   It's a good neutral black.  On silk, it went blue-ish.  On wool it goes brown where you lay it on and then wicks a neutral black and grey - it is a gorgeous smokey black.   BUT it's an H class dye and has to be heated to about 150 degrees.  

For the cellulose fibers [cotton, linen, bamboo], I used #300 New Black [also from Dharma].   It goes blue-ish on cotton and purplish on tencel.   You don't have to heat it which is good because it's going to lose the heat as it batches overnight anyway.   BUT it's not a true neutral.    [And on protein it goes plum.  Really.   Plum.   Really plum.    K2 loves it.  I'm not so big on it.]

What to do, what to do...   

I have no idea.   Maybe try to mix them on the cellulose?   I'll try it later and let you know how it goes.  

In the meantime - here's a pic of the new color 'Storm' on a bit of everything.  Clockwise from 12:00: Stella, raw silk; bamboo; linen; superwash wool bulky; superwash sock;  superwash roving; cotton/rayon; superwash fingering.   I like it best on the superwash.   Can you tell?

Etsy Treasury

I love Etsy Treasuries.   Such beautiful collections of handmade things.   Here's a link to one that I'm in right now! Purple Rain...Purple Yarn.

And for your viewing pleasure, here is some more purple yarn of mine.

Party Ribbon.  200 yds.  Nylon.  $20. 

Creativity Exercise: Breaking it down

Weeks ago I started writing a creativity exercise about making altered books.   I had the idea, I sat down and wrote a bit, and got stuck.   For weeks.   I'm sure you know how that feels.

It took a while for me to realize that the problem was that I'd bitten off more than I could chew.   I couldn't figure out what to do next.

I do that a lot.

A lot, I tell you. 

It's kind of a problem sometimes.  

I get overwhelmed, then anxious, then cranky.  I worry, I whine.   Then eventually I figure out where to go next and I get going.

And that's the trick!   Figuring out what to do next or what to do first.

Killer Brambles

We have 40 acres.   Most of what we have is woods.  About 15 acres around the house had been cleared and used for grazing cattle for about 100 years, so when we got it it needed a rest and to let the ecosystems recover.  Little blue stem [grass] and vernonia altissima [ironweed] do not an ecosystem make.   It was exciting to see things come back.  

Until they started attacking. 

The brambles came back in a big way - in patches that go on and on - full of canes 8 feet tall and an inch in diameter made of some sort of whippy ropey steel.   And they have attitude.  Apparently 10 acres of brambles is kind of bossy.    They don't appreciate being cut down with a chainsaw and hauled away with a pitchfork.   For the record, I wouldn't either, I guess.    They don't like being mowed either - they fight back.   I was going to post a photo, but decided not to because 10 acres of brambles is just too scary and this is a G rated blog. 

So after Eric cut the brambles with the chainsaw, it was my job to gather them up a bit and pull them down so he could get in further to cut more.    In theory. 

The first batch came out OK, but then when I turned around to head off toward the ravine where we're dumping them piling them gently, dragging the brambles behind me, one of the tips whipped around and impaled itself in my sleeve.    Undaunted, I forged onward to edge of the ravine and when I pulled the pile around me to dump pile it gently in the ravine, more tips whipped around and got me. 

They got me on the sleeve, in the hair, and all over my pants, and I was wearing sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt.    Do you know what brambles do when they come into contact with knit?    Let me tell you, it was ugly.  In about 10 seconds [one for every acre of brambles] I was completely entangled by the pile I was dragging  coaxing politely [with the pitchfork] to the edge of the ravine where we're dumping them piling them gently.

I couldn't get out by myself.   Every time I moved one way to get one off, another one got me.   And I heard them threatening K2, too.   In the interest of full disclosure, I must confess that I said bad words.   Really bad words.   But I won't tell you which ones because this is a G rated blog.   I barely escaped with my life -- and my clothes.   Seriously.   It was touch and go.   No pun intended.  

Then I handed the rake and pitchfork to Eric and went inside.   I prefer to fight brambles fully armored [in denim with helmet and goggles] and riding the mower. 

Just wait until this summer.  I'll show those brambles who's boss when it's jelly time. 

We're famous! Sort of...

This story was on the front page of our local paper today.  No, our kids names really aren't K1 and K2.  We're still negotiating the internet vs. privacy stuff.


PATHWAYS  - Herald Times, Bloomington, IN
Syrup from the fog
By Monty Howell 331-4380 | pathways@heraldt.com 
March 21, 2011

K1, 15, stirs maple sap, moving it along to the right in a maple syrup arch, as it simmers and boils down to becoming maple syrup at the end. This Greene County family pitched in with friends for 10 days of loading firewood and pouring sap into the homemade boiling system, or arch. K1 and her family netted 3 gallons for their time and trouble.

For 10 days, the Jenness family piled and split firewood to feed a homemade syrup arch. Boiling maple sap removes the water and fills the air with a sweet-smelling fog that warms the body in the cool night air, like no ordinary campfire can. The boiling usually ran the course of eight hours per day.

The cold nights and warming sun brought out the spring peepers in a chorus in front of their rural farmhouse near Newark.

The sap was flowing up the trunks of the maple trees as well. But this sap was carried here from about 20 miles away, from the Hinkle-Garton Farmstead on East 10th Street in Bloomington. Those trees delivered about 35 gallons per day during the best flow recently.

Making maple syrup takes time, heat, a lot of effort and about 43 gallons of sap for one gallon of syrup. This was a good-weather day, without rain, and the firebox made enough heat to evaporate off about seven gallons per hour.

This was a group effort shared by K1, 15, sister K2, 12, father Eric and mother Robin Edmundson. The family had the aid of Michael Bell, who made the arch and gathered the raw maple sap.

Bell periodically drew up several ounces from the final stage using a hydrometer to measure the specific gravity of the boiling sap. This indicates the sugar content of the final stage, which becomes syrup when it is 66 percent sugar. Sap normally flows at 2 percent sugar. The rest is mostly water.

This day had a campfire atmosphere near the back door of the busy household. K2 sat just out of the maple fog with a telescope, ready for the clear night sky. The sisters maintain a strict study routine at home, but their days can be broken up into real-life science experiments, such as how syrup is made.

The family enjoys knowing where their food comes from. They try to be as self- sufficient as practicality allows and grow much of their food at home. The family knows where this maple syrup was made and what went into making it. For their share of the work, they netted three gallons of dark amber syrup. They report its flavor is a 10 on a 0-to-10 scale, with 10 being the best possible.

Crocus

All photos by K2.

What's that plant?

These beauties come in three colors; white, purple and pink. The flowers come up in March, then die back, after which the leaves come up and stay for the rest of the year. I've given you a picture of the leaves and the flowers.

They're only about three inches high, and will be gone in a week. Extra points if you can name the variety!! Answer below the fold...

Crazy Aunt Sally Saves the Website

Three cheers for Crazy Aunt Sally!     The updated website is up and actually works! 

You need to go check it out right now.  www.robinjedmundson.com

Really.   I'll wait.

...

Pretty good, isn't it.    And she built it from scratch.   To celebrate I'm going to go shopping for a cheese press from New England Cheesemaking Supply Company.  

Then I'm going to go work in the garden.    And haul some wood.   And probably help Eric dig on the septic system.    Crazy Aunt Sally will probably show up sometime, too.

Black gold

That's not an egg - it's an orange.

Aside from eggs, these lovely creatures provide us with loads of chicken dirt for the garden.   Chicken dirt is black gold for the garden.  It is my fondest wish that it were black gold for the bank account, too, but alas it is not, and so we'll just continue to use it in the veg gardens.

During the fall and winter, Eric cleans out the coop and puts the debris in the garden beds.   That's why we have such happy gardens.   

During the spring and summer,  that lovely dirt makes everything grow - including the weeds.  I dump all our weeds back in the chicken yard for the chickens.  They eat the bugs and the greens and convert it all to black gold.  

By the end of the summer, there are a few more inches of dirt in the chicken yard.  First thing in the spring, we scrape off those new inches of dirt and put it back in the garden. 

When we clean the coop in the summer, we pile it near the garden to compost for a while.   It's too hot - that means there's too much fresh nitrogen, which burns plants - to put right on the beds during growing season.  

After the last fall harvest, I shovel the summer pile into the beds that will have melons and tomatoes next year so it can finish composting during the winter.  

It's stinky, but worth it.  

What's that plant?

I know it's not fair to ask you what a plant is when it's barely out of the ground, but I'm sure you're up to the challenge.    When these babies show their beautiful pink noses, you know spring isn't going away.

Hint:  These are the state flower of Indiana.   They smell divine.   Divine, divine, divine. 
Answer below the fold....

March Garden: Onions

We planted oodles of onion sets this year.   I also have onion seed, which I will direct sow because I can't seem to keep seedlings alive long enough to plant them outdoors - probably because I start them way too early.   The seeds should form bulbs by fall, which can be left to overwinter.    That's the theory, anyway - this is my first time trying it.   Here are some of our onion sets:

We've planted them close together here, right next to the sides of the bed so we can harvest them early for green onions.   We also planted a bunch several inches apart so they can get big.   Yum. 

March Garden: Coldframe.

It's time to start thinking about planting cool weather veggies:   greens, peas, fava beans, onion sets, garlic....

Our cold frame weathered the winter fabulously!     Thanks to our friend Mike Bell for passing along the idea of using hay bales to keep the cold frame warm all winter.  We had hay on three sides and as it composted, it warmed things up.   We had greens all winter.   No, they weren't happy when it went below zero, but they lived.  I had planned to put bales on the 4th side, too, but it never happened.   Turns out that as long as we had the front covered securely with heavy plastic, it did fine. 

Here's a photo from last weekend:

We have plenty of spinach, radishes, lettuce and arugula.   It loves the nicer weather.  We put a new parsley plant in it and will harvest the old radishes and plant new seed in a day or so.   

Forcing

I was hoping to do a post on how to force bulbs.  You know, one of those posts with beautiful photos, beautiful flowers in beautiful containers, all wrapped up in a Martha Stewart-esque house.

So
Not
Happening

I've decided to give you the pics that I have anyway to illustrate the fact that not everything that I try to do works.   Sometimes the project is lame.  Sometimes the photos are bad.  Sometimes the cat attacks the plants.  My life is just as messy as yours.

Here's how to force bulbs:

Step 1:  Assemble your pot, bulbs and something to keep the bulbs from moving around in the bottom of the pot.   I used sand.  You can use dirt, sand, gravel or those cute little glass thingies that go in vases.

Step 2:  These are mini tulips.  They're supposed to be only 4 inches high - perfect for an indoor pot.  Plant them and watch for the green to leap out of the pot.   These sprouted little green noses overnight.

Step 3:  Wait.   This photo is about 2 weeks in.  Notice that they are way more than 4 inches high and already starting to flop a bit.   Tulips are notorious for flopping.  What you can't see in this photo is the end of the leaf that the cat has been eating.   I think the cat has exacerbated the floppiness.

Step 4:  Ta DA!   Flowers.   These look a little wild because some of them are dying already and the cat ate some of them.   Turns out everyone likes tulips.  Deer, chipmunks, cats, people.   I read somewhere once that in Holland during the war, people ate tulip bulbs.  I have never been hungry enough to try one.

Next year I'll do another post and hopefully it will be more Martha-esque.

Life...and otherwise

I didn't post about how we weathered the ice storm last month because quite honestly I was a highly functioning anxious wreck during the whole thing.   And I hated admitting that to you.  But there it is.   The stuff going on in Japan reinforced all that anxiety about how frail life is and how no matter how OCD I am about preparing for the worst - and believe me, I really prepare - sometimes earthquakes happen, tsunamis sweep your town and family away, children die.   

I hate it. 

Unfortunately my hating it didn't make it go away. 

Damn.

So I went to the studio and tackled a custom dye job that I'd been fretting over.  Focus helps me not worry.   To reward myself for finishing that job, and staying away from Japan on the internet,  I took some pictures of the dyeing. 

It's all irrelevant in the eternal scheme of things.   I know that.   But it made me feel better yesterday.

Here's my favorite photo from the day.

My favorite part of dyeing is the jars at the end of the day.

Early Spring Flowers

Yay!  Flowers!   K1 has provided us with actual visual evidence that it's really Spring --

Snowdrops are the first bloomers at our place.   They always come a bit late, so that just a few days later we see crocus:

And this year, zooming out of the ground early, we found two more spring bloomers:

Scilla buds

Hellebore buds

Daffodil Buds

K2 is a really good photographer, don't you think?

Rural meets Technical

I am re-doing my website.  I moved to a new ISP host and the files didn't travel well.  [My homepage won't open, but the link bar does so you can still navigate to the important stuff.   It's kind of like climbing in to the site through the window.]   I did a lot of swearing and whining and worrying and then I got to work. 

I now speak html.  And CSS.   And Dreamweaver. 

I feel like someone's Crazy Aunt Sally - who speaks a little Italian - so you take her with you on your trip to Italy.   When you get there, you realize that the only Italian she knows is "Where is the circus and why is your alpaca sitting on my foot?'.    Unfortunately, that's more Italian than you know, so you're at her mercy.  

My website is at the mercy of Crazy Aunt Sally.   

The good news is that Crazy Aunt Sally is getting more and more fluent every day thanks to w3schools.com and the Adobe support site and thesitewizard.com, and cs5.org and Dreamweaver CS5 for Dummies.   Last weekend I rebuilt my homepage from scratch.  You can see it on the computer screen in the photo.  It only took 12 hours.   Now I have to add seven more pages.  

I'm thinking this might be a longer term project than I thought.

Dad

Joe Edmundson and his first kiddo - me!

Today is my Dad's birthday.  Happy Birthday, Joe!   We're celebrating with real German Chocolate Cake - [which should be called German's Chocolate Cake] made from scratch with Baker's German's Sweet Chocolate  by K1, who is a marvelous baker.   German chocolate cake was Dad's favorite and I encourage you all to break out those cake pans, melt that chocolate and join us in the celebration. 

The photo above was my first Christmas - sometime just after the earth's crust cooled.    Dad was 22 years old and he loved me - you can tell.

Dad taught me how to work.   When I was thirteen years old he let me mow lawns for him in his lawn care business.   He mowed Big Lawns.  Acres and acres.  Miles and miles.   He got to ride the Big Mower with the 54" deck.   I got to use the push mower and trim around all the blasted trees.  For $1.75 an hour.   I pushed that mower as long as my fat 13 year old legs could push.  Then I sat down under a tree and moaned.   Eventually Dad came over and asked me what I was doing.   I said, 'Dad, I'm tired'.  He said, 'Rob, you're not done'.   So, we got a drink and then I finished.   Slowly.   Really, really slowly.  

Dad taught me not to quit until the thing was done - even when I was really uncomfortable.   And then he let me sleep on his arm all the way home.    

Dads don't get much better than that. 

 

Tibby

Tibby is a big black dog with a white chest and big brown eyes.  I love her.  She has a scar on her nose where she did combat with a snake once when she was a puppy.  Since then, she doesn't much care for snakes, and really, who can blame her?   I wouldn't like snakes either, if one bit me on the nose.   I haven't been bitten on the nose by a snake though, so I still get along OK with snakes.  In fact, I like them a whole lot and every time one shows up I go introduce myself and.....but I digress - this story isn't about snakes, it's about chickens.

Tib was still a bit of a puppy when she came to live with us.  She'd belonged to a student who tried to bring her to college.  It didn't work out so Tibby went back home to the student's farm to play with the horses and to fight snakes.  She was smart and got into a lot of trouble.  She missed the student.

At around the same time, it became apparent that our old dog was getting far to old to do his job.

New yarn

Bamboo tape wrapped with nylon.   150 yds/skein,  $16.   This is it in Night Sky.   I'll have it in a bunch of colors, including tonals, for The Fiber Event at Greencastle in April. 

Early spring eggs, just washed.

Homemade Vinegar

Red and white wine vinegars

For years I thought about making homemade vinegar, but since we don't drink and are not in the habit of buying alcohol, I never got around to it.  A couple of years ago, when a friend gave us a bottle of red wine, I was thrilled!  It was a sign from the universe that now was the time to try my hand at making designer vinegar.

No, I had no idea what I was doing, but that never stopped me before.   I did a Google search and didn't find a whole lot of information about it on the web [There is a lot more out there now!], so I did a lot of winging it.  This is what I learned:

Eagle Cam

Just found this link at Maggie's Farm.  It's an eagle nest on livestream camera.  

Way.   Cool.  

Link:     EagleCam

Poop Quiz

Yeah, you thought I was kidding.   You won't make that mistake again....and no cheating!
Do you remember who left what poop?  [Answer below the fold]
Sample #1

Sample #2:

 Firewood

More Maple

Just starting to steam

We have a temporary abundance of liquid from one end to the other of the Maple Sap to Maple Syrup continuum and we've discovered a couple of delicious ways to enjoy it.   In the photo above, the new sap goes into the far left pan, #1, and as it cooks down, we ladle it into the pan to the right.   The far right, #4, pan has the most advanced syrup that is almost finished.   We've discovered that it's pretty good at every stage.

Stage 1:  A friend who grew up in Maine told me that she used to drink the sap like water when she was a kid.  You can do that.   It's sweet, but not too sweet.   It'd probably be good in Kool-Aid.   Because you need an excuse to buy Kool-Aid.

Stage 2-3: Now, the stuff in the middle - beyond sap, but nowhere near syrup makes fabulous tea.   We just ladled the stuff right out of the pan in the arch and into a mug with a teabag.   It was Mike's idea, and he said he got it from a Maple Festival in Medora, Indiana.  Yum!  We tried it in Celestial Seasonings Almond Sunset, which they don't make any more [We've had it for scary long], but they should because it was fabulous this way.   We also tried it in Bengal Spice, Peach and Cranberry Apple Zinger.  Dee-Lish.  I'm thinking it would be good with their Honey Vanilla Chamomile, too.  We mixed Stage 2 and a bit of Stage 3 for the best tea. 

Stage 3-4:  I like it as syrup here because it doesn't taste too dark yet.  The experts say that it's not safe to put up this way because the sugar content is too low.  It's fine to eat fresh and we do.  

Stage 4: Thick, sweet, dark syrup.  Best enjoyed on French Toast.   Duh. 

In the studio

'Leaf' tonal on cotton, rayon, bamboo, silk and wool yarns.   That skein on the bottom right is superwash wool sock yarn.   It has a mind of its own when it comes to dye.   Weird, huh.

Guess that bird...

photo: birdfreak.com

This cute little thing is a year round visitor here.    We call them the you-hoo birds because this variety [extra points if you guess the variety!] sounds like it's calling 'yoouu-hoo' when you hear it from a distance.

Hint:  The variety has a state name in it.   When you hear them from close by they say 'See-bee, see-bay'.   Answer below the fold.

Shearing

Sheep need to be sheared and the year we started our herd, two of our three ewes, Rachel and Eve, had been sheared before we got them.  Buttercup had not.  I, being ignorant and brave, said no problem, we’ll get a pair of handshears since we have no electricity in the barn and we’ll do it ourselves.  So, bravely, late one Saturday morning, Eric and I retired to the barn to shear Buttercup.  Sheep as a rule don’t like to be sheared, much like children don’t like haircuts.  They won’t stand for it.  Or sit for it.  Or be still for it. Sheep are like the child in the barber’s chair who keeps looking to see what you are doing to them.  Therefore, they have to be immobilized.  Most people do this by laying the sheep down and rocking her back on her butt.  In theory, then, one shears her neck and down her sides and back, rolls her over to do one side of the back end and then rolls again to do the other side.  Buttercup decided to dispense with theory and we spent the next three torturous hours holding her down while I clipped three inch by one half inch sections of her fleece at a time. 

Sheep shears.  photo: utoledo.edu

It was a nightmare.  I didn’t dare stop because I was afraid that I’d never have the courage to finish the job.  To Eric’s credit, she stayed down very well. To my credit, I only nicked her one time and she didn’t bleed;  and I only swore a little when she kicked me.  At one moment when I was shearing around her belly, I told Eric that at no time during our plans to turn this place into a working farm, had I imagined myself getting this up close and personal to a sheep’s privates.   Shearing the sides was one thing, but shearing around her privates after she had been forced to endure three hours of this was an entirely different matter.  Buttercup thought so, too.  To Buttercup’s credit, she only kicked me three or four times, and the bruises faded in a couple of months.

When we were finished, Buttercup looked like a skinny goat with a big head that had taken a wrong turn in a cotton ball factory.  She hid behind the barn for the rest of the day. I think she was embarrassed.  My parents stopped by a couple of hours later and my mother took one look at the poor animal and said, ‘You didn’t shear her very close.’  I told her she was supposed to look that way.   At that moment, Garland stopped to see and his first comment was, “You didn’t shear her very close.  You could have taken lot more off.”  Geez.  Everybody’s a critic.  I related blow by blow the difficulties of shearing closely a sheep that has been pinned to the floor for three hours. He looked at me and said, ‘Three hours!  It would take you forever to sheer a flock if you take three hours for every sheep.  Why, the little 4-H kids can do one in four minutes.”   I was speechless.

The next year we made it a point to invest in a nice pair of electric shears.  So, one Saturday we borrowed my Dad’s generator and went to it again.  This time it was much faster.  However, it was much more difficult to keep from slicing and dicing the sheep to pieces.  Luckily, in the package with the shears, was a sample can of Bluecote, an antiseptic spray that we could use on nicks.  It’s called that because it is made from tincture of gentian and sprays a beautiful blue/purple.   The most difficult places to shear this way were all of the places on a sheep which have folds of skin, for example, where each leg joins the torso,  around the privates, under the neck.  We were very thankful for the spray.   We cut our shearing time per sheep down to close to thirty minutes, which won’t ever win any shearing contests, but which sure beats three hours.   We thought we had done great, with only a few bleeding cuts until we were done and looked at our newly sheared flock of purple polka-dotted sheep grazing peacefully in the pasture.  

Geez.

Name that Critter

photo:  wikipedia.org

Cute, huh!    It's an inch long from nose to tail.   This time of year they come out to sing and at night from a distance they sound like jingle bells.

Hint:  The Latin name is Pseudacris crucifer  [There's a cross-shaped marking on their backs]

Answer below the fold....

Lichen and Sycamore Leaf

Lichen and sycamore leaf