Be THAT person

    I was reading a blog a few weeks ago, and the writer gave everyone "an assignment for the weekend" to compliment a stranger.  She went on to say it would probably be harder for men than women.  It gave me pause.  These are things I see and hear often - people being kind and complimentary.  I do not mean folks are always showering ME with compliments, but I witness a great deal of good in the world.  I wonder if it is there everywhere, and sometime we choose not to see it.
   I teach at a college and while I will grant you that folks in the arts building are often a little more informal than other departments, I also see it out on the quad, in the library - people telling someone what great boots they  are wearing, or how nice they look today. It never occurs to me that this might be something that requires effort.  I think it is just being human.
    Recently, I went to an outdoor gathering and someone was using a scooter chair to get around. They were in a very crowded place, and could not get past a gentleman chatting with his back to the scooter, unaware that he was blocking it.  The person in the scooter could not be heard above the crowd, so I asked if she wanted me to get him to move.  All it took was a touch on his shoulder, and he quickly shifted.  At least three people  told me how nice it was that I would do that.  Why?  Why is something as simple as that exceptional?  Is it because we live with our faces plastered to our electronics? (Yes, I recognize the irony of that as I type a computer blog!)
     I have always said, "My Daddy raised me to be a gentleman." Yes, I am female, but the training is the same.  Hold the door for someone if you get there first.  Help someone with their bags.  Offer an arm to lean on in icy weather.  It is not, nor should it be, an assignment. It is courtesy and is an easy habit to get into. 

some days...

    I had my youngest son harvested a small armload of cattail leaves yesterday.  I have  never tried them for making paper, and thought, "Hmmm, they have great vertical fiber in them,  and I have a seemingly endless supply, so let's try."  I am avoiding using the tops for now, as the fluff will get everywhere.  Yesterday I cut them into smaller pieces and then set them in a pot to soak over night, as I do with most plant fibers for paper.  Small problem: these are water plants, and thus water repellent.  So unless I let them sit for well over a week to rot out, I think I will be boiling them today.
    Funny how some days the most obvious things elude you!

More catching up - it has been a busy two months!

   At the same time we were building prom dresses and prepping for graduation, there were other things happening in our lives. I had shows I was designing - Unnecessary Farce, and The Marvelous Wonderettes; Caps and Gowns, at Chenango River Theatre.  
     My husband and I felt like we were living in the field and barn, prepping for the arrival of the sheep. There were fences to build and gates to attach, or move, as well as feeders to shift, hay suppliers to find; you get the idea.

Stretching fences

A straight, tight fence

      We had decided on Finnsheep - and after months of looking at other breeds - Black Welsh Mountains, Icelandic, Shetlands, etc., we decided on this breed for a few reasons. First of all, they are polled, meaning they do not have horns.  Occasionally you might see a sport who has horns, but this is unusual.  Since we do not live at the farm, I felt it would be unsafe to have horned sheep.  What if they were caught in the fencing and we were not there to get them out?  One could argue that this could happen even if we did live on the farm, but, hey, let's keep it simple!
    We also liked the prolificacy of the breed - they are known for nearly always twinning, and triplets and quads are not uncommon.  In some cases they throw litters.  One of our lambs is a sextuplet.  This has advantages and disadvantages.  Profits from sheep can be linked to successful live births - more lambs to raise, sell or eat, depending on your preference.  Also, lamb from multiple births (it has been argued) are smaller than singles, so it is easy for the mother to deliver them.  Multiples can  have their own problems: one  dying in utero can compromise the birth of its litter mates, more possibilities for bottle lambs if the mother cannot feed  many lambs, etc.
     Another aspect of Finns that I like is the fleece is soft (Welsh Mountain and Icelandic can be scratchy) and it is relatively low in lanolin, which means less scouring to remove the grease for spinning.  And they are smallish sheep - larger than Icelandics, larger than Shetlands, but nothing like the 300 pound Hampshires that our neighbor runs.   I am not a big person; 5'3" on a good day (shrinking a bit, I am afraid!) and although I am strong, I was worried about trying to seat a 300 pounder to trim its hooves.  Full grown ewes tend to be between 130 and 180 pounds, and the rams  mature to 170 upwards to 240.
    And they are sweet.  Having haunted the 4-H barns at the County Fair for the past couple of years, I  have seen many different breeds.  All have their own personalities, but  Finns are generally very docile. Sheep are prey animals.  They have no defences except flocking and running away.  I really did not want a flock that I had to spend all kinds of time chasing all over the barn if I needed to inoculate them, or halter them.  After visiting the shepherd we eventually bought our flock from and seeing how the sheep were willing to snuggle right next to my youngest son, we knew this was our breed.

Coming home in dog crates in the cars

    So, the day after graduation we drove two hours out into "God's Country" - the rural, green and gorgeous upstate NY and picked up five lambs. We have two rams and three ewes.  Two rams so we have ore genetic diversity in the lambing process, and, because sheep are flocking animals and do not do well alone, so there were two boys to keep each other company.

Guess who likes carrots?

Rosie - a bottle lamb who thinks people are her flock

While all the others act like sheep, Rosie  acts like a puppy - following along, climbing up your leg looking for carrots in your pocket

      We were all going to name a lamb - 5  family member, 5 lambs, but on the way home in the cars, the lambs were named by our children.  We have Sam - white ram, Frodo (how could it be anything else with a Sam?) the black ram, Arwen is the white ewe, Rosie is our brown ewe, and Maxine is the black ewe.  you may say, "Wait, there are no black  sheep, just dark brown." The tips of their fleece get  lightened by the sun, but if you look deeper into the fleece, it is a very dark brown/black.

Sam, Arwen, and Rosie

Maxine and Frodo

Rosie likes nothing better than being next to someone - especially if you are petting her!

So begins our great shepherding adventure.  We have already given them their inoculations this month, the first shots I have ever given in my life!  Soon we will be trimming hooves, but for now we are just working on getting the routines of farm life down.
    More later...

Catching up may take a bit!

  It has been a month since I made an entry, but sometimes the living of life takes up all my time!  So much to catch up on.   Our big events in the month of June were prom, then end of school, and our eldest son's high school graduation.
    Our daughter and her boyfriend went to the senior prom, looking their spiffy as usual.  Rather than wearing another ball gown, she wanted to try a more columnar look, so we found a pattern and a  pretty purple satin and whipped up a dress.

Prom Beauty

  

And a good time was had by all.

My girl

     The next big event was the high school graduation.  Our son graduated, and was also able to receive his diploma with his class.  Every person on the autistic spectrum has different abilities and disabilities.  Part of what makes him different is his anxiety over crowds and the unknown - which, when you come to think about it, is no different than many folks' anxieties!

     We have been very lucky that within this school system we have teachers, and aids, and principals, and coaches who have been willing to work with him, taking extra time with him, calling us from their homes to update us, or give us a "heads up" about future events.  My son is incredibly likable, but has not always been an easy student.  While there are always a couple of teachers along the way who have dismissed him because he is difficult and makes them work, most of our educators have been behind him the whole way.  We could not be more grateful for all their hard work, dedication, and love.

     In order to get through graduation, which is held indoors in a fully packed auditorium, we had a plan in place since September.  He would march in with his class, and instead of sitting on the stage with the other grads and having to listen to all the speeches, the  announcing of awards, etc., he would veer off into the wings where a teacher would meet him and they would hang out in the library - which had a simulcast feed from the ceremony playing - then go back and slip into line to receive his diploma.  We have been talking about this since Sept.  We have  gone through the steps, verbally, for months, so there were no surprises.  Then, graduation practice. 

     Right off the bat, there were modifications.  It ran from 10 - 2:00pm.  The teacher who had originally come up with the "graduation plan" modified thing.  A few nights before, we got a call and she told us, "I told the principal there was no way we were putting him through four hours of that, no way. So have him arrive at 11:30 and we will call you when it is over."   We followed her time table, and he arrived home at 1:30 with his cap and gown, which he promptly threw to me, saying, "this needs to be ironed." Well then...okay.

     Graduation morning, he got dressed - shirt and tie.  He kept trying to wear his blazer, and we kept trying to convince him he would sweat mightily wearing it under his graduation robes.  We won.   Then as family from both coasts sat in the auditorium, I prayed that the practice, the repetition of what was expected, and his desire to be with his class on this big day, would win out over panic.  The music played.  The students processed.  He was there, doing what he was supposed to, and grinning from ear to ear!  A former teammate of his happened to be sitting on the aisle and gave him a quick High 5, but no one minded. 

Behind the grad with his hand on his face.

marching and murmuring, "left, left, left, right, left"

     During the receiving of their diplomas, the audience was asked not to clap until the end.  At least, that was what was written in the program.  I never read the program, so I started clapping for each student, wondering why folks were being so quiet.  Eventually,  individual families were clapping for their own graduate as they took their diploma.  Then came my son's turn.  I was stunned.  His name was called, and not only did we clap, but the entire auditorium exploded into applause and cheers - even the graduates on stage were clapping.  It was amazing. 

Teammates

Old friends and teammates are the best.

    We think we know our children, and what is going on with their lives.  This just brought home the fact that I am clueless.  He is extremely popular.  His peers really like him.  Folks around the town all know and like him.  I have been approached in stores, while shopping with my daughter, and strangers have asked if I was his mother, then told me what a great kid he is.  Everyone knows him!  Graduation  was a window into a side of my eldest son that I knew nothing about.   I later found out that he was given the Senior Superlative of "Person Most Likely to Brighten your Day!" It was an amazing day, and he is an amazing young man.  

Two of his many aunts

Momma is his biggest supporter!

He never could have made it without his sister by his side

We are all so proud of our graduate. 

Spinning and the Central NY Fiber Festival

       I was chatting with a friend at the fiber guild and watching her spin.  Her work is gorgeously smooth and even.  She recommended that I spin every day - even if it is just 10 minutes - not just to get better, but to keep the muscle memory going.  I have taken it to heart and dusted off my somewhat neglected spinning wheel.
      At first I had to ply some singles so I would have some empty bobbins.  A couple years ago I experimented with fracturing icing dyes and loved the result.  I had two bobbins of singles from this precess, and  never plied them because I couldn't figure out what might look good with them.

The  dyed roving

the singles

Since I had no brilliant ideas, and I did not like charcoal with it, and plying it with white just looked too flat, I just plied it together and came up with this:

My "oh so expensive" niddy noddy - pvc from the Home Depot!

The greens, pinks and purples make me want to knit socks (and that's saying something as I started my first pair of socks YEARS ago and they are still not done)!

       Today I went to the Central NY Fiber Festival.  It was the first fiber festival I have ever been to and I really enjoyed myself.  I went at the suggestion of a friend, and it was good to see the way it was run, how the booths were set up, the various demos, and it was great for getting information!  I have found that people who own animals, keep bees, make things with their hands, are really easy to talk to.  They want to share information about the things they love.  I spoke to sheep people about their breeds, the uses of their fleece, etc. I talked to llama folks, alpaca people, and chatted with a sheep shearer for a while after watching him shear a merino. I took notes on how people set up their booths, what value added products they came with.  I got the information on three different "local" fiber mills - all no further than 3 hours from our farm.  A couple of people were really helpful in discussing fiber blending (llama on its own has little memory) as well as  cross breeding sheep for characteristics you like. Lisa Merian of Spinner's Hill was very generous with her time and information.  A big thank you to June of Preston's Alpacas for suggesting I start going and investigating fiber festivals. 

     Now, I am not a shopper when it comes to most things.  However, there are a few places I have NO sales resistance; a book store is one place, and any place selling wool is another.  I arrived 15 minutes before the festival opened to be certain to get to the fiber sale tent while there was still fiber to  buy.  I wanted to see about getting some raw fleece.  If I am going to have sheep, I want to learn how to wash fleece.  I found some Border Leicester that was $15 for just over 3 lbs.  There were many other fleeces that were much more expensive, but this was perfect for my first attempt to wash fleece.  If it ends up being a very large felted mess, it will be an inexpensive lesson (and might make a good dog bed).  I am hoping I am successful, as I love the grey and brown wool!

Border Leicester fleece - unwashed

I also indulged and bought a small bag of angora fur - soft as a cloud and about the same colour.

  

I got some beautiful green roving for no reason other than I fell in love with the colorway.

The greens really spoke to me.  And finally, as I was leaving, I stopped to talk to some women from a fiber mill near Syracuse, and saw a hank of 100% Finn wool.  Since this is the breed our sheep are, I had to get it to see what it felt like as a finished yarn.

Plus, it was a plummy brown, and I am a sucker for browns.
    After this easy introduction to fiber festivals, and knowing  that I must set and keep to my budget (I came home with four dollars to spare), I am looking forward to the Finger Lakes Fiber Festival, and then Rhinebeck.  I hear Maryland Sheep and Wool is one of the country's best, but that has to wait  until next year!

the true farming begins - and travel ends

    This past week  my husband and I spent innumerable hours at the farm until dark several nights in a row, getting the fencing up for the llamas' arrival on Sunday.  We also had to prep the stalls, get hay,  feed, minerals, etc., etc.  

 

The children, and indeed friends' children were on hand for the arrival.  The folks we bought the llamas from were later in arriving than originally planned, so we were lucky there was a nice fat garter snake to hold their attention for a bit.

Even our contractor and his dad popped by, ostensibly to mulch the  newly seeded field (which we had not yet seeded!) but they hung around  to see if they could meet the llamas.
    At last they arrived.

  Since our Farm is named Rivendell (with permission from the Tolkien Estate), my daughter and I have been keen to start out with names  from The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings for the animals, although Farmer Giles of Ham, and some of his less popular works may soon become resources for names. So the dark llama is now named Thorin and the white one Elrond.

     They are intended to be guardian animals for the sheep, but we will still work with them on haltering, leading, etc.  According to the family we bought them from, they had been trained to different tasks - Elrond as been a guardian for sheep before, and Thorin  did work with the public, so he is friendly  as far as llamas are friendly.  I think there is a misconception that they are sweet and as "in your pocket" as some horses can be.  They are not.  They can be friendly, but they do not want to be hugged and petted and played with.
    We all watched the  new arrivals for a while, and then Drew and I went and got fried chicken, and we all had a picnic, in the middle of the field, in the back of the pickup, watching the llamas, and watching cars slow down as they realized what was in the field.  Our daughter's boyfriend was there, and I believe this confirmed for him the fact that we are not your typical family:  we are artists, and farmers, and educators, and professionals, and hicks, and snobs, all rolled into one. But there are worse things we might be, so I am okay with that! We might be folks, with 9-5 jobs we felt trapped in, living in an apartment with no green space, and be miserable. Instead we are overworked, never stopping, always trying new things, but pretty satisfied overall.   I'm good with that!

     

The chickens are unimpressed!

May 3

   It is the third of May, and we are finally witnessing some greening on the trees. The past few days have seen the trees go from budded to tiny leaves.  At last.  Other signs of Spring: the bee have really started working - both hives made it through the winter,  the dogs (who truly think they are cats) have dug out and disposed of two shrews, the daffodils and muscari are in flower, and the garter snakes have emerged from their hibernaculum.  the frog ponds on the farm are filled with eggs, and the peepers were out last night.
    On a less Natural note, all the neighbors are out with their mowers.  There is not that much to mow, but it feels like the right time to begin trimming the lawn. The week of on again, off again, rain has probably helped a lot in turning the seasons away from winter and heading towards warmth.
    At one of my alma maters, the first of May is celebrated  with a naked parade of sorts.  It used to be just a few crazies went bike riding nude across campus, as public safety followed them in cars, waiting to hand out tickets when the ride was over.  Now, it is  more organized  and more revealing by far. Here is the article on this year's romp. May Day