sheeeeeeeeep!!!!!!!! and a donkey.

It wasn't easy, but H was able to, with the help of our neighbor who pulled his trailer to Hempstead,  load Ringo the donkey onto the trailer with the sheep. 

He has proven to be a true guardian for the sheep, and we're thankful for him. 

Since we chose the sheep three months ago, they have begun to grow a beautiful coat of wool assuring us that we chose wisely. 

After research - including talking with the keeper of the farm from whom she bought the sheep - my homesteading daughter ordered a flexible fence that we'll move every twenty-four hours, which will not only provide the animals with fresh tall grass ever day, but also help to prevent them from getting parasites (in theory) by giving them a clean pasture. She has attached a solar powered battery which electrifies the wire with a click of a button.

When the fence is not turned 'on', our ram attempts to find tastier grass on the other side.

We have developed a good pattern and work well as a team to move the fence each day. This team work did not happen automatically.
The second day with our new borders, Harmony waited until two children and I  were on our way out the door before she asked us to move the fence. I was dressed for a doctor's appointment and lunch date and no intention of going out to the pasture to move livestock, but I allowed her a few minutes to borrow the siblings who were supposed to accompany me. "A few minutes" turned into almost half an hour, and ended with loose livestock on the property. My younger daughter's appointment was not to be canceled, so she and I left while sheep and donkey were roaming.

I awaited texts from home, watching my phone like a hawk, begging our guardian angels to get those animals into the fenced area. After a few hours, the children whom I had left at home finally corralled them.

I arrived home to find the portable fence in our side yard instead of the back pasture. The children had indeed corralled them, not by leading them to the fence, but by circling them with the fencing. In doing so, they also corralled a few trees. The fence has only one gate, so our trick was to move the fence around the trees with livestock still corralled.

This is where grace came in.
The animals were loosed because the young people were not communicating. One person had the idea of how to move the animals, the rest had no clue how to move them, and the first person expected the others to read her mind.

I gathered four of the children around the fencing. I spoke and moved in baby steps, directing each move as though I was deactivating a bomb. They obliged every step, and quietly and carefully, watched and took each small step and motion I asked them to take.
Not once did I raise my voice, and not once did anyone argue. Grace.
This day- those moments- come back to me like a wave and wash over me when I get caught up in the squabbles and the little failures of the day. I know we can do this, because we did this.

Before long, we had three sheep and one donkey moved to a suitable place.
Now, each day, my homestead daughter and at least one sibling (or more) goes out to the pasture and moves the portable fence to give them animals fresh grazing space. I help most of the time, but they don't need me every time.

I wish I could say that about all the other challenges that have been thrown at my young blessings. My step-by-step help and advice isn't always as well received, and when it is, it is often only because they- like with the sheep moving- have already tried their own way and are desperate for my alternative. It's difficult enough to watch them fall and get hurt while they're learning to walk,  and then navigate through the emotional challenges of growing, divorce, mental illness and all the other crosses they've been asked to help Jesus carry. But when they reject me- either intentionally or unintentionally- my heart crumbles and I lose focus of purpose. I can't say they don't need me; I know they do. Often I have to stand back and wait for them to fall and sometimes get hurt before they know it and can accept it.

After two weeks here, the ram was showing signs of anemia. It took two of us and a shepherd's crook to catch him and look closely at his eyelids in order to diagnose the problem. I was so afraid I was going to hurt him when I grabbed him while he tried to run from me. But I had to grab him; I knew what was best for him and we couldn't wait for him to get sicker. As days have gone by, the ram was easier to catch in order to treat. I hope it is because he has learned to trust us, and not because he has become a weaker animal.
Sometimes getting my children to do what I know is best is like walking around a flexible fence, taking baby steps, talking them through it,  and sometimes it's like wrestling a young ram to the ground.
I have hopes that they will become more and more receptive to my help, without becoming docile and weak.

At least they can now move livestock around the pasture without me.

one step closer

What's better than a luxurious breakfast with fine china and crystal?

Breakfast with fine china and crystal followed by a visit to a sheep farm, of course!

We were gifted by a cancer support group with a weekend away to a place of our choice- a family get-away to rest and relax and enjoy each other. After exploring the Bellville Castle, we spent a beautiful day and a peaceful night in a cabin nearby. The cherry on top was the breakfast in the main house where we were treated like princesses and princes.

To make the most of our mini vacation, we came home through Hempstead and my second oldest daughter- my homesteader- chose and made a down payment on two ewes and a ram. She could tell you all about why she chose this breed and how she decided what and how many of everything...
but I'm the driver and I just do what she asks when it comes to her farming decisions.

We all fell in love with this donkey. His name is Ringo and I wished so much to pack him up and bring him with us. I'm not sure what we liked more: his friendly disposition or the way he picked up a dog and threw it  when it got too close to the sheep.
It turns out the owner didn't appreciate the latter, so he offered the donkey free if we could load him when we came back for the sheep.

Back at Shamblewood,  it's time to prepare for bringing livestock home. On two different occasions some men from our home school community and parish drove out to our place and helped us with pounding the posts and attaching the rolled fencing. We were able to use old telephone post polls that were left from old fence that had rusted. rotted, or otherwise fallen apart. My oldest son had a few trees to remove using an ax since our chainsaw was out of commission. 

With more research and shopping, my darling homesteader chose the proper gates for the space between the shed and the property border fence and for a small space at the other end of the pasture for walking through.

 

It didn't take long for the vines to find their way up the welded wire. It won't be a problem once the sheep move in; it simply adds variety to their diet.

Soon I'll be sharing images and stories of the new hoofed borders. It's difficult for me to believe we have come to his place in our lives. It was a pipe dream at one time; we had talked about finding property and creating a home and a working farm. And now even though it's actually happening - albeit slowly- I walk around in disbelief and concern that we can actually pull it off.
But my daughter is determined and, following her lead on this matter, I have faith that we can make this happen.

Shamblewood growing

Much has been happening on our property and in our home. I'm hoping to catch up and make a better habit of recording and sharing the progress in both image and journal.

When we moved on to this property, we thought we'd have to demolish the shed. But H was determined to save it. She 'encouraged' her siblings to help her move out the stored (rotting) wood

Much of the wood was either moldy or rotted and needed to be burned. My younger son was eager to strike the match and tend to the blaze.
Some of the planks are salvageable, and I hope to use them for projects. There seems to be a market for large flat wood pieces with motivational sayings and scripture verses, so my plan is to sand down several pieces and try my hand at painting. I have no idea what the previous owners who left the piles had in mind for this wood, but it was doing no good piled up in the shed.

It took some heavy lifting and laughing to clean out the space; D enlisted a friend to help him carry the several broken toilets that had been thrown away and forgotten in the dark corners.  That's an experience he won't likely forget.
H then swept, wiped, aired out the space, and then spread pebbles on the floor of the tack room.
She did all this when I was away from home. I called her to check on her day, and her reply was, "I just spread gravel on the floor of the tack room." When I left the house that morning, we had no gravel; while I was gone, she had ordered it, paid for it, had it delivered and carried it wheel barrow load by wheel barrow load across two acres to the tack room and spread it!

Finished tack room floor

can you see the little pink ear? 

We chased this little critter out a few times, but he keeps coming back. As long has stays out of the duck food and alfalfa we can live in harmony.



Behind the shed and tack room is a large hole that fills with water during rains. We had originally planned to fill the hole with dirt, but my second oldest daughter had a better idea.

We borrowed a water pump from our parish and H once again headed the effort to pump out the water and then cleared out the junk dumped there by previous owners. Found was a number of light bulbs, various piece of garbage and a few more railroad ties that D had not yet pulled out because they were under water.

Before all the water was drained, the little one gathered as many tadpoles as she could and transferred them to the permanent pond on the property.

After the water was completely drained, H then spread a few loads of the gravel on the bottom of the water hole. I didn't get a photo before it rained again and covered the gravel, but at least now we know there is no trash under the water.
Our original plan was to fill in this hole with dirt and try to forget about the trash, but my daughter was determined to fix the problem and not just cover it. Thanks to her planning and diligence, we now have a 'sink' which gives the rain water a place to collect and prevent soggy areas and flooding in the pasture and tack room. Our next step is to plant proper foliage that will help keep the rain water clean and prevent mosquitos from using it as a breeding ground until we get our ducks which will eat the pests.

To think that we almost chose to rip apart something of value- something that just took some careful planning, and a few days of hard work and attention to be made usable again. As homesteaders, this is a valuable lesson to learn, and something we'll need to apply over and over again in order to become more independent. As a mother, I'm proud that my child knew to do this without my orders or even my prodding. She had it written somewhere on her heart and in her mind to find the value in what is in front of her, work with what she has and find the resources to fill in the gaps and get the job done.