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Shearly exhausted
May. 21st, 2009 09:30 pmSheep got sheared today. The actual shearing process takes less than an hour for the eight of them, but the preparation and cleanup turn it into the better part of a day for us. For the sheep it seems to be a terrifying experience something like that of a child being taken to the dentist.
You'd think that the older ones would recognize what is going on and cooperate. It has to be a relief for them, as the temperatures creep upward into the 80F range, to get rid of that load of heavy wool. However, as our neighbor Toni says, "Sheep don't really have a lot upstairs," and I guess she's right. I imagine our shearer, who is a sheep professional himself, thinks we don't have a lot upstairs either. And Gary always gets so stressed out over it that I have to talk him down for a couple of hours afterward. Anyway, it's done for another year. I have bruises and abrasions from wrestling sheep around, and my back is sore. The sheep have already forgotten the whole thing, and there are seven good fleeces in plastic bags in the barn. The eighth I threw in the compost. Shebah, the eldest we have now, had pulled so much of her wool out this winter that it wasn't worth the bother. She still had to be sheared, but the fleece is of such poor quality that I dumped it.
I'm glad I took the day as vacation. I normally work only four hours on Thursday, so in theory I could have gone in this afternoon, but with the cleanup and my now stiff back, this is best. Gary went off to Chicago to take his mom out for lunch and shopping. I finished the chores and watched the sunset. Oh, and the mosquitoes have arrived in hordes since yesterday. Fortunately we seem to be entering a dry spell now, so this lot will have a difficult time finding water to breed in.
You'd think that the older ones would recognize what is going on and cooperate. It has to be a relief for them, as the temperatures creep upward into the 80F range, to get rid of that load of heavy wool. However, as our neighbor Toni says, "Sheep don't really have a lot upstairs," and I guess she's right. I imagine our shearer, who is a sheep professional himself, thinks we don't have a lot upstairs either. And Gary always gets so stressed out over it that I have to talk him down for a couple of hours afterward. Anyway, it's done for another year. I have bruises and abrasions from wrestling sheep around, and my back is sore. The sheep have already forgotten the whole thing, and there are seven good fleeces in plastic bags in the barn. The eighth I threw in the compost. Shebah, the eldest we have now, had pulled so much of her wool out this winter that it wasn't worth the bother. She still had to be sheared, but the fleece is of such poor quality that I dumped it.
I'm glad I took the day as vacation. I normally work only four hours on Thursday, so in theory I could have gone in this afternoon, but with the cleanup and my now stiff back, this is best. Gary went off to Chicago to take his mom out for lunch and shopping. I finished the chores and watched the sunset. Oh, and the mosquitoes have arrived in hordes since yesterday. Fortunately we seem to be entering a dry spell now, so this lot will have a difficult time finding water to breed in.
