Sun and Wind Farm

Diego and the sheep, out on their morning constitutional

For more than a year, Freckles, our Great Pyr, has been gamely providing protective services for the sheep and chickens out back in the pasture. We know her heart isn’t in it. She’s sociable and her instinct is to make friends rather than lay down the law. (The one exception: Birds. She hates them to pieces. Her dog naps are dotted with epic canine-avian encounters, most of which end with feathers scattered across the field of her doggy brain.)

So one recent morning, we were surprised to see Freckles purposefully storming around after what looked from a distance like a large feline intruder. In our part of the country, that can mean bobcats. Although Freckles did her best to look the part, we knew that if there was truly a predator out back, we weren’t ready.

We did a search for a second dog, someone who could be the bad cop to Freckles’ good cop. We saw the usual notices from breeders and families who could no longer keep this pet or that one. One posting did stand out though, from a rescue agency that had a lot of experience with Great Pyrenees.

We had concerns about a rescue. It’s hard to know exactly why any animal is being rescued. And given that we would be introducing this guardian into an environment full of incumbent dogs, cats, sheep and chickens families, we naturally had a few qualms.

Those fears were quickly allayed one recent Sunday when Diego arrived. He has his breed’s natural reserve; these are not wagging face lickers. He took in the surroundings slowly, introduced himself to Freckles and together they examined the run-in shed that would be his new home. We suggested a walk around the perimeter of the property but Diego thought that he would just keep an eye on the shed for now, thanks. Over the next week, he gradually increased his range and now conscientiously patrols his complete territory each day, even bringing some discipline to Freckles’ own somewhat loosey-goosey approach to guarding. He’s teaching her new tricks!

Frances out on a walk with Molly and Daisy

2009 was the year the rains came. After 18 months of pond-evaporating, cough-inducing aridity, the rains were a satisfying sight. They replenished the ponds, put a fresh coat of green on the grass and produced food aplenty for the sheep out back. Had they left it at that, the rains would have been a very welcome addition to the year. But of course they continued, flooding the creek, washing out parts of the driveway and leaving low-lying parts of the property a mucky mess.

Now that winter has arrived, the colder air has locked into place some of these changes. Tire grooves in the long driveway look as permanent as cement. But it’s never as cold as the weather we left back North.  And we know now that with the new season and the new year, other changes will arrive that undo everything we thought we knew in the past and that create opportunities in corners that once looked bleak.

Some of the changes this year at Sun and wind Farm have included:

– As previously reported, the Shetlands have moved on to another owner. But in their place, we have been blessed with two personable Suffolk lambs – Molly and Daisy – with whom we now enjoy our daily walks, accompanied by the faithful Freckles. Although Freckles’ job is to be a guardian dog for the livestock, she’s really more of a sidekick. Molly and Daisy scarcely know they are sheep and we have come to think of them as our second and third dogs. If all goes well, four Icelandic sheep will join us in February — two bred ewes, one ewe lamb and a little wether who goes by the name of Warlock. That means new lambs in May!

– It was a tough year on the chicken front as all but one of the commandos -– the indomitable Miss Herman — were taken this fall by a hawk who lives in the back pasture. Herman continues to thrive, catching free rides from Molly and Daisy and sneaking out of the pasture into the back yard on occasion. She will be joined in early February by a fresh corps of recruits, Rhode Island Red chicks who will assist in her strategically important role of pecking and scratching at imaginary bugs.

– Freckles continues to patrol nicely for predators, a more important role than ever as hungry coyotes test the border and — we suspect — a lone bobcat may be roaming the adjoining property. But she may not have to pull solo duty much longer. We’re in research mode and plan to choose either another Great Pyr from a breeder or work with a North Texas rescue organization to welcome into the fold a livestock guardian dog who has been abandoned by its original owners.

– Evenings are spent on rug hooking, quilting or spinning – we are bursting at the seams with fabric and none of it goes unused, particularly our hand-dyed wool that’s found its way to ebay.com.

Here’s wishing you all a happy and healthy 2010!

Molly and Daisy snack out back

Nature abhors a vacuum and pastures abhor the absence of sheep. And so, just weeks after shipping the three rams and their entourage off to a more suitable local ranch, we thought we’d try again. Molly and Daisy, two eight-month-old Suffolk ewe twin lambs, arrived this week. They are very gentle and yet adventurous enough to go on a walk around the perimeter of the ranch on their second day here. Like all Suffolks, they are notable for their creamy white wool and black heads and legs. Their neighbors out back — chickens and dog alike — are quite pleased with the new additions. The chickens have  found that they are welcomed atop the sheep, and have set about hunting and pecking flecks of nutrition from the wool. A new equilibrium has found its way to the pasture.

When we moved to the farm in the spring of 2008, our two large stock ponds were full to the brim. Eighteen months passed and both were dry. How sad to see the frogs and turtles slowly disappear, although truth be told the frogs were noisy and the turtles were not always very nice either. (See http://sunandwindfarm.com/wordpress/?p=72 for details.)

Also pulling a disappearing act was the great white heron and family, who fled for friendlier fishing elsewhere. Miss Freckles, the livestock guardian dog, actually welcomed this development, since the big bird drove her to distraction.

The garden was so parched that not even daily soakings with the hose could keep the veggies from drooping under the hot Texas sun. Cruel TV meteorologists mocked us by starting their nightly broadcasts with the tantalizing, “Summer storms in the area? We’ll have more when we return.” But each time they returned, they brought news only of rain hundreds of miles away.

And then one day the rains came. It rained — and rained — and rained. For four days, the rains fell steadily upon the farm, quickly filling the two ponds and spilling over the banks of the dry streambeds. The waters found a way of their own outside their historic paths. The chickens, usually dry and comfy in their part of the run-in shed, were suddenly surrounded by water and we had to create little bridges with wooden planks so they could escape from their tiny island of straw and mud out into the pasture.

This seasonal transition brought to a head another lingering issue. The two ram lambs were growing up and we now had three intact males, all beginning to jostle for position as mating season loomed. We would need to build a new facility to separate the boys from the girls. And in the rams’ quarters, we would need further separation to keep them from butting the living daylights out of each other. And further, once spring came ’round, we would need to repair the pens for each late-stage pregnant ewe.

The scale of it all was, frankly, more than this pair of 50-somethings cared to undertake. For a few weeks, we grappled with the issue over dinner, throughout the weekends, and by phone each day. The sheep needed more than we could provide, but there were others who by experience and disposition could offer a happy home to Firefly and his tribe. And so we sought a farmer with expertise in breeding sheep and building fences. One recent Saturday, he arrived with an empty trailer and left with a small flock, destined for their new home in Joshua, Texas.

Can we pile any more transitions on top of the autumnal equinox this week? The sheep are happy in their new digs. The pumpkins are ripening nicely out front and vegetable seedlings are pushing up from the ground. The chicken commandos immediately spread out in the shed once the sheep left. And Miss Freckles is back on Orange Alert status, protecting the chickens from the return of the herons, who are flying just a bit too closely overhead for her taste.

Night before last, we were relieved to hear the local weatherman announce that north Texas was over the hump. Things were as hot as they were ever going to be this summer, and each new day now would be slightly cooler. After a month or two of temperatures ranging from a cucumber cool 95 to a slightly sultry 105, this sounded like good news to our northern sensibilities.Although we ourselves slow right down in heat like this, that doesn’t mean that all activities have shut down here on the farm. In particular, our garden has been going great guns. Who would have thought that so many veggies could grow in just 300 square feet?

The purple cabbage blossomed early and found its way to our table as the primary ingredient in Frances’ cole slaw. Tomatoes, large and small, have morphed into gazpacho, spaghetti sauce and salad ingredients since June. Overflowing summer squash were quickly escorted to the gas grill and became side dishes for two months. The overage came to work with me where they were quickly snapped up by colleagues. The okra we fried and pickled. I know that okra is popular here in Texas but let’s just say we don’t get it. The biggest surprise was the crop of cantaloupes, which were perfectly sweet and refreshing at breakfast, lunch and dinner.

On the herb front, there were many successes. Chief among them was the basil. All summer long we enjoyed homemade pesto from that basil, pine nuts, garlic and olive oil. Other herbs that emerged included oregano, thyme, marjoram, rosemary and sage. These herbs were twinned with olive oil and vinegar each night for our salad dressings, and frequently found their way into various rubs for grilled meat dishes.

The two biggest disappointments were the sweet peppers and eggplant, neither of which blossomed. However, when we pulled the remains of the cantaloupe plants out several weeks ago, we found some of the eggplant holding on for dear life, so we are busy resuscitating them.

As summer eases on into autumn, we are beginning our second season. This week Frances started from seed enough veggies to carry us through till winter. These include a variety of tomatoes, along with scallions, Chinese cabbage, broccoli, lettuce and spinach. And of course, we’re still enjoying about two dozen fresh eggs a week from the four chickens. More about them soon. And with the  cooler weather, we’ll introduce a new part of the web site — the primitive hand-hooked rugs Frances makes from wool.

Stella bravely endures her haircut

As May transitions into June, we are preparing for the long hot months ahead. First up: sheep shearing!

The four adult fluffballs were good and ready for their biannual shearing. We called upon our able assistant, Sarah, who arrived one Saturday morning with razors in tow.

Corralling sheep for a hair cut is a bit like lunging for greased pigs at the state fair. Sheep do not want to be caught, as a general rule. Firefly the ram was the one easy exception. He always struts amiably over to us, although usually it’s because he is mulling whether or not to butt us into the next county. We surprised him with a halter and muscled him up onto the fitting stand. One down, three to go.

The ewes, well, they were another story. We boxed them into what looked like an escape-proof corner, but they sure could move fast when motivated. One by one they met their match. Perhaps the most outraged were Pixie and Page’s two sets of twin lambs. As each mother faced the music, she and her lambs performed an energetic call-and-response to each other, one profoundly maternal “m-a-a-a” met by two high-pitched “m-e-h-h-s.” In that way they kept in touch until the ordeal was over.

Since then, Frances has been spending her spare time cleaning and carding the four fresh fleeces, then hand-spinning the wool into yarn. This is the perfect ending for a cycle that began with free and endlessly renewable solar energy, continued on through a grassy growing season and concluded with fuzzy, warm, beautiful wool.

Mine enemy has a name: Thistle

Summer is still weeks away, but the dog days are at hand here in Texas with temperatures around 95 today. We find ourselves settling into a peaceful routine nearly one year into our journey. Our children are marching purposefully into their worlds, the sheep and chickens are healthy in the back pasture and the garden is bursting with young tomatoes, eggplant, peppers and herbs. And yet there is a fly in the ointment, an irritating mote on this otherwise uplifting canvas.

Mine enemy has a name, and it is thistle. Perhaps it’s musk thistle, perhaps Canada thistle, we’re not quite sure. Take a look at the photo and let us know. Do not be deceived by the welcoming violet hue of the flower. It masks the plant’s spiny leaves and stem. These thistles are invasive, noxious weeds.  Once they move into an area they quickly multiply thanks to the fact that each plant produces more than 10,000 seeds! What’s more, its seeds can remain viable in the ground for a decade. Where they spread, livestock (like our sheeply contingent) turn away from the nearby sweet grasses.

We’re not sure why we have been blessed by these weeds. There do not seem to be many on our neighbors’ properties, most of which support cattle or horses. The previous owners at Sun and Wind Farm carried a herd of about 50 goats, so perhaps there’s a clue there. Thus far, we’ve “treated” the thistles with a liberal dose of Bush Hog. We’ve read a few publications that recommend a combination of manual (i.e., death by mowing) and chemical methods. This will put to a test our commitment to non-chemical management of our land. One way or another, we will prevail.

 
When Nosey met Beaky. No contest.

Shetland sheep have been around for a while. It’s believed that Viking settlers brought them to the Shetland Islands about 1,000 years ago. But on the evolutionary timeline, they’re babes compared to snapping turtles, which have been hanging out since the middle Miocene period. For those of you keeping score at home, that makes them about 10 million years old. Give or take.

So when epochs collided today out back, it should come as no surprise that older and wiser had it all over younger and woolier. It all started when Frances went to put the chickens in around 4:30. There, sitting in front of the run-in shed, sat Mr. Turtle. The chickens, who normally exude a mellow, amiable vibe best summed up by the word “chillin’,” were clearly overwrought. 

Soon the sheep, led by the new lambs, let curiosity get the best of them and came over for a look-see. Frances’ heart was in her throat because she knew that snappers were capable of lashing out with unexpected and violent speed. She chased the lambs away, but of course this only made Firefly, the ram, more interested and so he sauntered over.

Firefly and his horns see the world much as a hammer does: full of things to pound. So instinctively, he put his head down low to the ground and investigated. Immediately the turtle snapped and caught Firefly’s nose. The ram lifted his head up instinctively, raising the turtle for a moment before it fell back to the ground. Incredibly, rather than running away, Firefly went back in for another round. Frances quickly interceded and separated them with the only available means: She turned a wheelbarrow over on top of the turtle. A quick first aid session ensued as Firefly wisely let Frances clean his injury. When John arrived home, the snapper was transferred from his prison to the tractor’s front end loader and taken for a little ride out to the pond in the back of the pasture. We hope his case of wanderlust is settled! 

 
Two sets of twins get to know Dad

It’s been a busy few weeks here on the farm. We’ve endured fluctuating temperatures that have tested the optimism of our early vegetable plantings. Violent spring rains have provided a soggy hint of storms yet to come in April and May. And Page delivered twins, one week after Pixie. Together they have doubled the size of our modest flock of Shetland sheep.

Page emulated Pixie’s wonderfully low-maintenance brand of birthing, wandering off quietly to a corner of the run-in shed before producing with no fuss her lambs, Goldthorn and Silversage. For more information — and a cute video — on this season’s crop, please visit out 2009 lambs page.

The lambs are full of energy and show absolutely no sign of respect for their sire, Firefly. That is all to the good, since Mr. Firefly has grown rather full of himself of late, as most rams do. 

We soon will celebrate our first year on the farm. We have gone from zero to sixty in that time, from a suburban-focused Northeastern couple with a few house pets, to a Texas homestead bursting with sheep and chickens. Life is too big and mysterious ever to predict what is just around the corner, but insofar as the last 12 months are concerned, we’ll happily stay with the cards we’ve been dealt this year.

Babar the watchcat: Fear his meow

It was before dawn and all was quiet on Sun and Wind Farm. We were peacefully sleeping, secure in the knowledge that our Great Pyrenees guardian dog, Freckles, would bark her heart out at the first sign of an intruder.  So when our feral rescue cat Babar began to howl from another room, we figured he was just hungry for breakfast. Our eyelids fell shut again.

Wrong.

Minutes later another sound interrupted our sleep. It was the sound of water being lapped from the bucket we keep outside the door for Freckles. From deep within our unconscious minds, an idea slowly formed. Freckles’ water is being consumed. Freckles is far away in the pasture. Who, then, is drinking? AWAKE!

We bolted out of bed to open the blinds. Two coyotes – or were they wild dogs? –  raced away. Babar shot us an “I told you so!” look. Meanwhile, Freckles and the sheep slumbered peacefully in the back pasture. Somehow, we try to go back to sleep.

Next night. Same time. Babar howls again! This time we are on high alert. We burst out into the back yard. Again, the intruders are too fast. Freckles is still quiet and the sheep are fine. Babar, suddenly reevaluating his worth, makes a not so polite request for his favorite canned food. It’s not hard to tell what’s on his mind since he’s pawed open the pantry door. We are happy to respond.

It’s not often that a feral cat that resembles a certain big gray elephant warns his family about intruders. We’re glad we rescued him from a woodpile when he was a baby.

Now to figure out who the intruders are and what’s on their mind.