Popcorn and Hugsie

Breaking news! For our wedding anniversary, the Wrangler has given me two Southdown Babydoll lambs. They are wethers and will be ready to come home the last week of May.

Here's Popcorn sitting in the grass, and that's Hugsie with his mama.

They aren't twin brothers, but they are roughly the same age.

Heritage Lawn Mowing

There was a great article in the New York Times today highlighting small agricultural businesses founded by people in their 20s and 30s who have found themselves frozen out of the traditional job market. In particular, I was very interested in the lawn mowing business that rents out sheep to graze on dandelions, grass, and weeds. Customers pay $1 per sheep per day, but the owner also accepts barter payments. These have included karate lessons and maple syrup. Hmmm...

Counting Sheep

When does the proverbial counting of sheep keep you wide awake instead putting you to sleep? When you've been working on a farm business plan before bed and can't stop going over the numbers in your head. (I did down a highly caffeinated chai latte around 11PM, which admittedly didn't help things.) In addition to the adorable little babydoll Southdown sheep, I've been dreaming of a larger fiber flock of Romneys and Merinos.

I'm a spreadsheet and numbers-oriented kind of gal, and I'm struggling with the figures for a hobby fiber farm. There's the costs for basic animal care (acquiring the sheep, food, fencing, shelter, and veterinary expenses), yearly shearing (to minimize nicks and cuts, this is a task best left to skilled professionals who shear regularly), fiber processing (sorting, washing, fiber cleaning/dehairing, carding, rovings, drafting, spinning, plying, steaming, conewinding, and skeining, not to mention dyeing), marketing (labels), and selling (expenses associated with selling online or at stores and markets). And I'm probably overlooking some major costs.

The numbers indicate that it's possible to eke out a meager profit, but only if I have a fairly large flock. I love the idea of, say, six sheep, but I'm not sure how I feel about 30. The good news is that the Wrangler recently told me, "You can get any animals you'd like." I knew he'd come around.

Logistics

Hellhole Canyon Preserve

Well, I have not heard from the second breeder yet, so I currently am expecting only two sheep. I hope that this changes, though! Two sheep really aren't enough. They are herd animals and need companions. It's good to have a spare sheep or two, just in case.

I'm getting slightly anxious about finding a place to live with pasture for the sheep. I try to remind myself that I have two full months, but I am prone to worrying these days. I considered moving to northern San Diego county, which isn't too far from work. There are plenty of ranches at reasonable prices when you're about 30 minutes east of the 5. The area always has struck me as unbearably hot, dry, dusty, and prone to wildfires. But, just like the parents who eschew their hip urban lives in trendy but sketchy neighborhoods to raise their young in the comfort of the 'burbs, perhaps I too must make concessions in order to give my little lambs a proper home on the range. The hot, dry, dusty, wildfire-prone range.

Resigned to this fate, I put my chin up and started looking for homes in the area that still is within reasonable commuting distance from work. I located the community on Google Maps and noticed that it is near a large nature preserve. "How nice," I thought, zeroing in. Oh. The preserve's official name is Hellhole Canyon. I paused to consider. "Yes, my thoughts exactly." On to the next plan.

(Actually, as you can see above, the area looks perfectly lovely for a desert-terrain type of cowgirl.)

Wether or Not

Huh. The Wrangler took the news of our impending road trip and the possible doubling of our flock in stride. Perhaps he's grown accustomed to my little surprises, or maybe he's just thinking, "Well, it could be worse." At any rate, we have a sheep pick-up plan. All we need now is some pasture.

We were expecting two sheep, but now it looks like we'll be getting four. This can't be much different than parents who are expecting a baby and learn that they're having twins, right? You just adjust to the idea and then start preparing. There's never any question that you'll welcome the extra bundle of joy with open arms. This past winter, I researched breeders of Southdown baby doll sheep and reserved two sheep from a reputable farm. The thing is, breeders can't easily predict how many and what type of lambs will be born; they can't exactly guarantee that everyone who reserves some sheep will get what they asked for. Thus, we buyers just have to wait for lambing season and hope we get the call. Waiting lists and uncertainty make me nervous. I decided to err on the side of prudence and reserve sheep with a second breeder as well. Both breeders had emphasized that their waiting lists are long. Reserving a total of four sheep seemed like the safest way to ensure that I'd receive two. Unfortunately, the farms I fell in love with are both located a couple days' drive from Southern California. I suspected that the Wrangler might balk at the prospect of a two-day road trip with sheep in the back of an SUV (they will be too little to travel in a trailer), and so I just might have glossed over some details.

I've been, as my dad would say, "hangin' tight" these past few months, reading my sheep books and making my way through the home study sheep course. And then I got the all-important email yesterday. My sheep will be ready. I had requested two wethers, one black and one white. Because I was the first to respond to the breeder's announcement, I have been assured of my picks. They will be ready to leave their home near Branson, Missouri, on any Wednesday or Saturday in June.

I sent an APB to some of my contacts to inquire whether anyone knows of a sheep-friendly hotel chain for the drive home. Oddly enough, I did not receive any recommendations. I did, however, receive invitations to post-up for the night at the homes of friends along the way. Charmaine, the plucky Six-Button Cowgirl in Denver even offered to come along for the Branson-Denver leg.

"Here's what we'll do, " I told her excitedly. "I'll fly you into Branson and will meet you there for a night of fun, and then we'll pick up the sheep in the morning and drive the 13 hours to Denver in one-shot. The Wrangler will fly to Denver, we'll spend the night at your place with the sheep, and then we'll do the 15-hour drive home in one day." It did occur to me that the discussion concerning "meeting in Branson for a night of fun before picking up the sheep" probably had never occurred between two female attorneys under age 40.

Charmaine didn't blink an eye. "If Branson is anything like how it is portrayed on The Simpsons, I have no doubt that there's fun to be had." She followed up with another email notifying me of her husband's gracious offer to refrain from mowing the lawn between now and then. Clearly, our Denver hosts are appropriately focused on the needs of the sheep.

The other breeder, located in Washington state, send word yesterday that she will notify me of my exact place on the waiting list next week when all of her lambs have arrived. When it rains, it pours.

It's Happening!

I got the email today that every expectant shepherdess can't wait to get--a note from the breeder confirming that I want two wethers, asking about color preferences, and notifying me that they may be picked up on any Wednesday or Saturday in June! There are some extra details that I need to share with the Wrangler before I write about them here, as it would not be courteous to have him read here first that we may be getting four sheep instead of two (I'll explain later), or that we will be flying to Branson, Missouri and driving back to California with sheep in the back of a rental SUV. So I'll fill everyone in after I make the Wrangler some nice homemade granola and break the news gently.

Getting Started

I'm making my way through the Sheep Home Study Course that I'd mentioned a couple weeks ago. It's part of the Pipestone Lamb and Wool Management Program started 39 years ago as a pilot program jointly funded by the National Sheep Industry Development Board and the Minnesota Department of Education. For approximately $170, I received a package of 14 lessons and quizzes. I could have opted for the online version of the course, but I'm an old-fashioned gal at times and prefer the hard copies. (No Kindle or Nook for this cowgirl).

The course is designed for commercial sheep producers. I know this because the first lesson, "Getting Started in the Sheep Business," suggests that I start with 40 to 50 head of three- or four-year-old ewes. Clearly, my instructors are envisioning an operation somewhat larger than my huge flock of two miniature lambs. Nonetheless, I'm getting a lot of out this course so far. I don't think it's possible to be over-prepared for shepherding.

Sheep School

Sheep grazing at 3-Corner Field Farm, a stop on our Great Cheese Farm Tour last fall

When I learned of a spectacular sheep seminar in Minnesota, I couldn't help but think of all the songs and sayings about "going home." How wonderfully circle-of-life to find that a community college in my home state boasts one of the most well-known sheep management programs around. In addition to the four-day "sheep camp," Minnesota West Community and Technical College in Pipestone, MN, offers five online sheep management courses, sheep farm tours, a lambing short course and bus tour, and a 14-lesson home study course.

I'm debating whether to head to Pipestone this summer for sheep camp, which is described as "intense" and a combination of lectures, group discussion, and visits to two outstanding sheep operations. Sheep camp promises to help me define my vision and build a practical plan to achieve my goals. The only problem? It is held in July. I will have had my little lambs for just a month by then, and I suspect that I'll refuse to budge an inch from my babies. And so I'll mull this over for now. In the mean time, that 14-lesson home study course is sounding awfully fun.

Counting Sheep

The sheep breeder sent me some wool samples from five different Babydoll Southdown sheep, including one sample of unprocessed wool. It's so soft and fluffy. I can't wait to hug my little lambs.

If you've been wondering where I've been these past two weeks, I'll tell you: immersed in sheep books. I've read about a book a day and now am faintly familiar with--but not well-versed in--the subjects of sheep breeding, gestation, lambing, nutrition, pasture management, housing, diseases, parasites, predators, fencing, behavior, and breeds. There are so many things that can go wrong, but I reason that: (1) although I don't have human kids, most people have them, (2) raising a cute little babydoll sheep can't be any scarier than raising a human, and so (3) if most people can raise a few humans, I should be able to raise a few sheep without an inordinate amount of freaking out about them getting loose, sick, or eaten by a coyote.

I just Netflixed a documentary, Sweetgrass, about a large sheep ranch in Montana. I found it fascinating. The Wrangler did fall asleep about midway through, but I will attribute this to the soothing sheep sounds and beautiful Montana scenery rather than to a lack of interest. Truth be told, Sweetgrass probably will appeal only to those among us who really like sheep.

I've found a dangerous number of adorable sheep-related things on etsy.com. I must exercise restraint. We're still tripping over boxes of lavender-themed stuff.

Doll Face

I try to keep upbeat on this blog, but October found me feeling a bit blue. It was the everyday stress from work and other responsibilties--you know, life--combined with the tedious recovery from the accident, dealing with my new fear of riding, and longing for a real autumn. To literally add insult to injury, I'm virtually and virtuously viceless these days. I'm doing whatever I can to avoid breaking any more bones the next time I fall off my horse (and, assuredly, there will be a next time). So I've sworn off soda, sweets, caffeine, red meat, and anything else bad for me and taken up the dreaded yoga. Clearly, something had to give.

I thought long and hard about what I needed to do to snap out of my indulgent despair. I looked at Chanel bags (too la-de-dah). I considered a vacation (too temporary). I thought about a new car (too expensive). I signed up for an SLR photography class (too complicated--the Wrangler ended up going in my stead). Then, magically, last week at Border's an extraordinary book fell off the shelf and into my hands: Storey's Guide To Raising Miniature Livestock.

I've previously mentioned my plan to one day add some babydoll sheep to the family. Well, friends, that day has come. I am on the list to acquire two Olde English Babydoll Southdown sheep after lambing season this coming spring. As the Old English Babydoll Sheep Registry states, these minature sheep "are outstanding pets who produce wool that is a hand spinner's delight." They provide organic weeding and make excellent companions. Their gentle nature "makes them a joy to own," and their "wooly teddy bear face will always give you a smile." They generally are 18 to 24 inches tall and weigh about 70-150 pounds.

I guess it's official: there's a lot of work to be done and things to be figured out between now and May when the new furry friends arrive. The spring in my step is back.