I said goodbye to Barney today, the little black and white pot belly boar piglet. He was very small for his age, but not the runt of the litter. Barney had a very good disposition, but Wilbur, the father of the piglets, was a little iffy. When he was young, he loved to be scratched behind the ears, but as he got mature, he was quite protective of the sows and would chomp and froth at the mouth, something that boars do when they want to get into a tussle, especially around sows. I smacked his butt a couple of times pretty good, though he likely just thought that was more of a challenge. So, he went to freezer camp. Clara had complications after her last litter and passed away in her sleep. I was not aware she was having troubles, so was very surprised. The piglets were adopted by the other sows. 

So Barney, Fred, Wilma and Betty hid out when the piglets were being collected to go the butcher shop. There was no way they were going! Smart little piggies. I was pretty surprised to find them camped out in the big hay bales the next morning, but had to give them credit for their brains. That saved their lives. 

It was not my intention to continue raising pigs, and I originally thought Fred was a girl as Barney was always breeding him, Upon close investigation, he was a he, not a she! So, the piglets are 5 months of age and likely are already bred. Drat! I am not sure they will have successful litters though. I have tried to lock Fred up many times, but that guy finds ways to get out of places I did not think were possible. How, I am not sure! 

Wilma and Betty are Ossabaw hog and Potbelly crosses, so they will be quite petite, but Fred is a Large Black/Meishan/Potbelly and who knows what size he will end up. 

I baked one of the butchered piglets whole for my supper tonight. It was delicious. The piglets were still nursing so this a milk fed meat, tender and delectable. I am still not over raising animals for food. It seems so utterly barbaric, but as I do eat meat, I might as well know what goes into the critter and know they were humanely spoiled with lots of love on my farm. I think Fred will miss Barney the most. Barney went to a lovely home though. A grandpa came to pick him up for his grandson so the mommy pig and he can have baby pigs. Awe. So long Barney! 

Bob, that sweet old Cotswold ram, is very, very thin and his health precarious at best. We have had a week of very warm weather for this time of year, with temperatures above zero, so it is not the cold that is bothering him if it ever was. I dewormed him again and gave him a shot of Newcells at the same time and moved him to the goat pen. There are two sheep there with him, and lots of goats. They tend to leave him alone and he seems to like it that way. So far, he has not paid any attention to the two ram lambs that are there, nor they to him. 

Bob waits for me. He watches for me. He is very smart. I fed him once in the corner and now he goes to that corner for his food. I am giving him second cut hay with alfalfa in it, premium stuff. He is not much interested in eating the good weedy hay the goats thrive on, but he enjoys the hay I give him. He is not eating nearly enough though. He picks through and eats a little of this and that. For his size, he should eat lots of hay in a day and he is not, yet he is eating. 

He is not stumbling around and seems more sure of his feet. He has a bit of trouble rising from lying down, but so do I. Maybe that comes with age. I am rooting for him, doing what I can and loving him. 

In the meantime, I let the Cotswolds in with the Tunis sheep yesterday and today, let the Babydolls in too, plus moved the Icelandic and Shetland girls in with them. The Tunis ram, Thomas, was very interested in the new girls and is making sure they do not need his services. They are running from him rather than standing, so I am quite sure that Gandalf and Gunnar did their jobs well. When I can get a few more bodies, I will move the ewes in with the others and put the rams back in with the rams. Then feeding and watering will be so much simpler. 7 pens was 5 times more work than rams in one and ewes in the other. 

​Keep cheering for Bob in the best way you know how. Thanks. He is a wonderful addition to the Fat Ewe Farm and I love him dearly. 

I  asked someone for help to move the rams back out of the breeding pens and the ewes together in preparation for lambing and was told to go get some one else. So, I thought about this endeavour for a while and devised a strategy. The plan was to move the Cotswolds in with the Tunis sheep, since I am not sure if Bob bred any of the girls at all. Thomas Tunis did not seem too interested so maybe Bob did his job before he got sick. I am sure hoping so. And I hope Bob makes it another year to give one more round of his babies. He is the sweetest ram I have ever known. 

Back to my plan to move the sheep, I let the Jacobs out hoping they would cross into the farmyard, but Karin the llama was not being cooperative and the little ones just follow her and stay close to her. Robbie the trusty border collie was not helpful either, heading the sheep off where I wanted them to go and sending them back. Grrrrr. Eventually I got them into the farmyard though. I had moved the Romanov ram and the Romney ram just before this by opening the gates at the right time. I swear that someone out there was helping me, because that went smoothly. 

Then Gunnar, the Icelandic was next. He was easy because he was very interested in what was going on in the ram pen, namely ramming. The same went for Gandolf the Shetland ram, who could not wait to take his turn with the rams. There was a hole in the fence between the Icelandic and Shetlands and I moved the panel. In an instant both Jewel and Gem were through, but Georgie was still in there when it was dark and I left her. Hopefully she will figure things out in the morning. Then I will open the other gate and get the Shetlands and Icelandics into the farmyard and finally into the pen I want them in. I will do the same with the Babydolls after getting the ram out of there, but I think I will need help with that one and bringing the beautiful Blue Faced Leicester cross ram into the ewe pen to clean up any misses. He is going to love that. 

This is the last year I will keep a ram for each breed of ewe I have. It is my intention to sell the Romanovs, Romneys, Tunis, Jacobs, Shetlands and Icelandics, possibly keeping a ewe lamb from each breed only. One fleece per breed is all I really want to work with, so that will be plenty. I likely will hang on to the Babydolls for a while, because I love them so, but I only have Rosey and Rosalee as purebreds now. 

So, the lack of willing help helped me to do it my way, do it myself. Although I would have loved some assistance, I did get it done and am proud of the plan and that it worked. I will ask someone to give me a hand with the big BFL ram though. It will take a couple of strong people to hang onto him. Then it is a waiting time for the lambs to be born in late April and early May. Some may be very late in July if they were not bred in their breeding groups and the clean up ram got to them, but better late lambs than no lambs. I also put the two little mini Nubians in with the Nigerian Dwarf buck. I know one for sure was in heat and she stood for the buck . I can't wait to see those adorable, cute little babies! 

Oh, and I managed to lock up the piggies in their shelter again after being out for the past few warm days. The little boar, Barney, is sold and will be picked up on Monday. He will be very easy to catch in the shelter. Fred, Wilma and Betty are sure going to miss him!

I love Bob. He is an old Cotswold ram that I just got at the end of fall. I have been looking for a new Cotswold ram for some time, since I lost Walter. What is it with these guys? Bob is gentle, inquisitive, halter trained and very easy to handle. I trimmed his feet when he arrived, but he had been recently shorn. That was not a good thing. 

Where he came from winter is much milder than here, plus he had a nice warm barn in which to curl up. This was a very hard lesson for me. Something I just had no occasion to consider before, is where the sheep come from. Bob was old, but he was healthy and heavy and doing just great, that is until it got cold and it really, really got cold. Then he wanted to stay in the mini barn, which is really a double tarped small hoop house, but when the Cotswolds are together in it, it is plenty warm enough. Only the girls were mostly born here and they did not feel much need to go inside. Poor Bob was on his own there. And he was cold. He should not have been shorn prior to winter's arrival. 

So, I have sadly watched his demise, helplessly and with great sadness. I tried alfalfa pellets, barley and oats and then some wheat. He took a few nibbles and was simply not interested. I started feeding him hay in the shelter so he would not have to face the winter, but he continued to go downhill fast. 

Bob is a mere shadow of the former ram that arrived here in the fall. He is so weak, he is having trouble walking and it will only be a matter of days before he is not here, before I no longer see that curled up nose and those big, sweet and gentle eyes. I can only hope that he did breed at least some of the girls and will leave me his legacy that way. He, indeed, is the sweetest ram I have ever known. Walter was a close second right behind him and when he was dying, I held his big head in my lap and loved him. That is all I can do for Bob. 

Bob had a shot of antibiotics and was dewormed, in case. He has had several shots of Newcells, a vitamin complex that boosts energy and vitality and he also has had apple cider vinegar and fermented garlic honey. I was trying anything and everything I could think of, all to no avail. Bob cost me $!00 dollars. His value to me was immense, but in reality, taking him to the veterinarian was not a good economic decision. I spent $1200 on Walter, my first Cotswold ram, trying to get him to live, but he just did not make it. That was more money than I should have spent on one animal. I would love to ensure Bob's survival, however; given his age and circumstances, I cannot. I must learn to let go, to make a better decision as a farmer, not as a pet owner and allow him to let go too. I have loved Bob since he arrived and am so very sad to think he will not be here. My heart is breaking. My Bob....

Bob has improved over the past few days and though he is dangerously thin, he may make it. I moved him over to the goats since I moved the breeding groups today. There are two other young rams in with the goats, so he is not the only sheep. The goat barn is warmer than the other barns IF there are any animals in it besides one. I gave him some lovely green hay and he did nibble away at it. My fingers are crossed. 

The older one is, the less inclined to learn new things, usually, but that has never held true for me. I love to learn new things. I am learning how to barbeque currently, via the Meathead barbeque book. All these years, I was barbecuing wrong! Recently I have been studying herbalism as well and continuing my aromatherapy studies.  Those are all integral to keep my wee brain waves alive and functioning, but motor skills, well that is another thing. 

I have been pretty stagnant in the department of learning new motor skills, so I decided to challenge myself big time. I am learning to throw with my left hand. As a right handed dominant person, doing things with my left hand is somewhat challenging. When I had an accident some years back and had to have surgery on my finger to try to put it back together, my right hand was out of commission for about 6 weeks, totally, so wrapped up that I knew was there only because of the brutal pain. I learned to write with my left hand then, but did not keep it up and you know what they say...use it or lose it. 

But Robbie and I play ball when I am filling the buckets with water. I want to throw the ball to the east where it cannot get easily lost, and that means my right hand is somewhat impaired unless I step well away from the bucket and hope I get back without it running over. The idea to try to learn to throw left handed occurred a while back and I have been slowly improving. I am not able to aim at a branch and hit it. If it was ever required that I should pitch for a league with my left hand, I think I could do that easily now. Unlike my writing, I will endeavour to keep this skill by practicing daily. My right handed throwing gets a good workout throwing a stick for Robbie,  as I am watering the critters, but the left is for throwing the ball when filling the buckets. 

What does learning a new motor skill do for an old brain? It challenges the fibres to fire differently and the current from hand to brain is developed where none was there previously. This new brain motor activity can only assist in keeping the synapses firing and that is important to me. My mother had early dementia and although she is still alive today, she knows no one and is not communicative. I cannot guarantee learning new tricks and studying will stave off that dreaded disease, though I am certainly hoping it will help. Don't you agree?

A couple of weeks ago, we were in a deep freeze with the day temperatures in the low twenties and night temperatures in the low thirties, except for a couple of nights, when the wind chill combined with the cold temperatures, it was minus 45. The French and Giant Angora rabbits lived together in the big dog kennel. I removed the buck, but the doe must have been bred, because she was building a nest. The only spot she had was the plastic top of a dog kennel filled with hay. I put a lot of hay over and around it as well, to keep her warm in the very cold weather, but Angoras are so well insulated she did not much ever go inside. There is also a second shelter there, not covered with hay, just to get out of the wind.

So, after observing her these past two weeks, I saw that she indeed was going in to the hay covered hut on occasion. She did kindle the day before that terrible cold began and there was no way I believed the babies would have survived. Today was a warm day and I thought it was a good time to check. So I did.

I got down on hands and knees and peeked inside . Lots of fur was in there in a depression and I thought for a moment I saw movement there. I felt around and there were some small bodies, yes. I pulled one out, expecting it to be dead, but it was very much alive and exactly about two weeks old.

Mamma rabbit did kindle on that cold night and miraculously those babies, or some of them, survived.  I quickly returned the kit to the nest and ensured he was covered with that downy fur she pulled. Well, I'll be. Whodathunkit? 

We are expecting another very cold spell and the kits will be more active. She has a good depression in the nest to keep them together, and I am hoping they will be just fine. How exciting! Baby Angoras in midwinter. Wow!

I was thinking about shearing the sheep today, no, not me shearing them, but to have the shearer come and shear them. Here, it is difficult to book a shearer. I do not have a place to keep the sheep dry if it rains or snows and the wool must be dry to be shorn. So, shearers hesitate to book shearing with me, because it may be cancelled. There are several sheep breeders in the area, and they are always looking for shearers too, but they have lovely large barns to stuff their sheep in, in the event of inclement weather. 

The Fat Ewe Farm has 52 sheep that need to be shorn, 5 Angora goats and 1 llama. That is just short of 60 animals in total. I did buy expensive clippers and was going to give it a go to do two animals per day, but I cannot shear the sheep the way the shears do, which is lying on the ground. Due to my physical limitations, I need them to be standing. There is a special grooming stand one can purchase that supports the head so they basically do not move. I have also considered a huge blow dryer or blower, to first eliminate a lot of debris from the wool. I even got a dryer that no longer produces heat to tumble and blow the fleece so it has less vegetative matter to pick out. But I do not have that trimming stand or the blower, yet. 

This is the last year with this many animals. I sold the Babydoll group last summer and plan to sell the Jacobs and Tunis this year and the Romanovs. My goal is to cut down over the next three years to a dozen sheep and 5 or 6 goats. That is enough for one old farmer to look after and it might be easier to find someone to care for the animals should I need or want to leave for a period of time. 

At the end of this month, the rams will be pulled from the breeding groups and stuffed into a tiny corral where they cannot back up to ram each other. When they come fresh from breeding there is quite a danger of ram bashing and serious injury, so in order to prevent that, I stuff them tight for 2 days. Then they all smell like the next ram and the bashing is not so severe. The worst is Jim the Jacob and Gandalf, the Shetland. Those two are sworn enemies and have take down a heavy wooden gate this winter, the only separation between them. Then the Blue Faced Leicester cross ram lamb that was born here in February 2016, will get a chance to do any clean up breeding. He will stay in with the ewes for 6 weeks or so, in case the rams missed someone. I have seen little to no breeding going on and do not put a marking harness on any ram, but that does not mean it did not happen. It could have been accomplished in the first week even and the next two months were just visitations. Time will tell. 

The first lambs could be born as early as April 25 and the last as late as June 25 from these breeding groups. Any lambs born after June 25 will be from the BFL breeding, and it will be quite easy to distinguish because the BFL lambs look very much like Blue Faced Leicester sheep, even the crosses. That ram is white, however; he does have the gene for colour and will be bred to ewes that are either coloured or have the gene for colour, so that will not be the determining factor. It will be the date the lambs are born. 

Last year I was very fortunate to be able to sell young lambs for a hundred dollars as pets and lawn mowers. There were more cross bred lambs than expected because of the precious Shetlands who bred ewes when they were only 4 months old. There should only be 3 cross bred lambs this year and they will be 50% Jacob. 

Who does not look forward to seeing baby lambs? They are the most adorable, fuzzy little gentle creatures and are delightful to watch. The ewes that are on the farm are selected for their mothering abilities as well as their hardiness and ability to manage their own pest loads. Hopefully their vigour will be passed on to the offspring as it should be. But, it is hard to say goodbye to the babies as they get old enough to be weaned. Still, I keep telling myself to stick to the goal of animal reduction. So far so good. Come and join me for lambing in April and May. It will be exciting. 

As a young teenager, of course I wanted the latest fashions, but did not have the money for them. My father, my hero, taught me a great lesson. He would not buy me clothes other than what I needed, but he said if I learned to sew, he would pay for the fabric. Hmmm, say no more. I learned to sew, and boy did I ever. 
There was nothing I did not tackle, from pillow cases and bedding, to underwear, bathing suits and even shirts and a sports jacket for my husband. I sewed shirts for my father and mended his clothes for years. 
When I was considering becoming an interior designer, I took an upholstery course, basic at first and then an advanced module, not because I wanted to be an upholsterer, but because I needed to know how it was done in order to measure and quote properly for my clients. I also took some sewing courses for drapery and home materials such as duvet covers and slip covers. Learning to estimate yardages with pattern matches in consideration was invaluable as a designer. I did love to sew, but sewing take space and time, two things that were running short in life then. My employees were excellent seamstresses and sewed when they were not busy. One in particular was from the Ukraine, where sewing is a way of life and perfection goes along with it. I still have some household items that she sewed as demos for the shop. 
Recently, I bought an old Singer, a 1911 model that has been restored to its glory and is in perfect working order. I used to sew on one years back, especially for leather or heavy material for upholstery and am looking forward to having it. For rural living it will be great for extended power outages as well. I also have a serger, which is a machine that overcasts edges and trims as it sews and a nice machine. None of these have been in use since moving here. 
My spare room houses my computer and of course a bed for guests, but I only have guests once or twice a year. So, I have decided to dismantle the bed and set it upright against the wall, and set up the machines in that room. I have tons of beautiful decor fabrics and will make simple curtain panels, pillows, table cloths, and other household items for sale. My farm store will open again in the summer. It hopefully will be a wonderful place to add these items to. 
One type of sewing that I am not fond of, though have done a lot, is mending. I could not make a business out of fixing zippers and sewing up ripped clothing. I need to be creative in my work and that is not in the least so. 
The old singer has its own cabinet but the other two machines do not, so I will have to set up some sort of table and cutting surface somewhere in my tiny farmhouse where I can lay out at least the size of a queen bed duvet to match patterns. 
Now I am excited. All those fabrics! I can begin to decorate the Airstream trailer too. It is still in my mind to live in it for some time between traveling when I retire. Why not make it unique and quaint at the same time? 

Here is to sewing. Do you sew? 

I love my little Icelandic girls, but they are little. For some reason, Jewel and her twin sister Gem, are very small for Icelandic sheep. Thor was a smaller ram, but the ewe was a gorgeous full sized lovely ewe. These twin girls should be much larger than they are now. Georgie was from the auction, and came with the ram Gunnar. He is spectacular, halter trained and fantastic, with one exception. His horns are growing too close to his head. I will have to take some photos in to the veterinarian to see what, if anything, can be done for him. I think he must have a headache every day, or maybe not. Maybe his skull had just gotten used to the tight wrap, much like the African tribes who mould the skulls of their young by binding them. He does have a great set of horns with a full curl, but on one side there is a scar on the horn so they would not be valuable should he be sold. I have no intentions of selling him just yet. 

Jewel calls to me when she hears my voice. I am hand feeding the sheep now, since they are in breeding pens until the end of this month. Then the ewes will all go together in the winter pen and the large BFL ram who was born exactly a year ago, will have a chance to learn what breeding is like, if the rams have missed anyone. Georgie is a beautiful red sheep, Gem is true black and I am not sure what Jewel is called. She was born red but her fleece is cream coloured and her face and legs are red with her eyes surrounded by cream. They are very pretty girls and I am hoping they will have some pretty little girls too. I will have to wait until May to see. 

Living in a tiny house is not the easiest to do, especially when I have so many hobbies. For each hobby, accompanying it is a plethora of things, things like knitting needles, crochet hooks, yarn and more yarn, soap making supplies, molds for soap making and soap, lots of it. Then there are books. My goodness, the dungeon down the trap door has boxes of books taken from the the bed and breakfast house when the pipe burst under the slab and then flooded the lower floor. Fortunately the books were on shelves and did not get wet, but everything had to be removed and aired out to prevent mold. So they came back in boxes and the shelves were dismantled and are not going to go back in. There were enough books to start a small library and I tried to donate them to a start up locally, but they did not have enough labour to catalogue them, so they are in boxes. That, however, does not prevent me from buying more. I have about 6 books on the go right now. Most of my current reading is on herbal medicines from different areas of the planet. Indigenous plants have been known for centuries and that knowledge was all but lost over the last while, though, thankfully, some have taken the time to research, connect with healers and write things down. One of the more fascinating books is Druid herbalism, which is really Druidism in its finest. 

The Druids loved the trees. So do I. The forest is where I feel most at home. Trees live for thousands of years and communicate with each other through mycelium under the ground. They are amazing. I think at times, I can 'feel' them. But the Druids knew trees. They even had a secret alphabet based on tree species. During the last times of the practicing Druids, witch hunters and witchcraft were considered of the devil. So tree medicine had to be carefully disguised, hence the secret alphabet, but even so, much has been lost. If I had a religion, it would be of the forest Druids. It is remarkably similar to many of the North American first nations beliefs and some of the cures and herbs they used are the same, though Druids were in the British Isles and the natives of North America were far apart. 

So, back to tidying the farmhouse. I completely emptied the drawers from the one dresser in my room. There are too many clothes for a dresser and the closet is full of pretty stuff I never wear, but used to and who knows. So I keep it. The rest of the clothes are folded and piled on the nightstand mostly. That is cluttered for sure, but the actual closet is very small. My room is done, laundry folded and away as away as it goes. I do not read in bed or in my room, so the books remain in the living room, the new ones that is. Next I will tackle the living room again. When one has a tiny house, it is just a case of moving things from one place to another, because there really isn't any place to put them. Lots are carted down to the dungeon, because it is out of the way, but eventually that has to all be dealt with too. 

The floor is swept, though by tomorrow, it will look as though it never has been. I could not get the fire to cooperate and smoke filled the house with the downdraft that came up suddenly. Ashes went everywhere! Tomorrow that has to be tidied. But my little farmhouse is warm and cozy when the little wood stove is crackling away and I love it. I wish you were here to share that nice fire with me. The light fixtures have been sitting in boxes in the living room since I moved back here, but I am waiting patiently for some one to put them up for me. Maybe on Tuesday, my friend will have some time he said. Til then, tidying the farmhouse is a vicious circle, never ending, moving things from one place to the other and back again, but I would not trade it for a palace. Home sweet home, it is to me!