Tucking In for Winter

I used to think that daylight savings was intended to help farmers. In my case, it must be false.

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The sheep are off pasture at this point.  They have a loafing area which they’ve utterly denuded of all green growth, and they have access to the barn.  They would really like to denude the entire pasture of all green growth, but I’m not going to allow that.  They have been eating hay, and eating it at more than twice the rate they did last year.  The feeders that held a day’s food last year hold only a half day’s food this year.  Consequently, my once-a-day sheep visits are now twice a day.  I’m still working full-time-plus at the goat farm, so I see the sheep at 9am and again at 6pm.

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Here’s where daylight savings comes in: the 6pm visit is dead dark.  The barn has one weak light whose switch is almost impossible to find.  I feed my fuzzies by the light of the moon and my iPhone.  I wish that my iPhone could effectively photograph my moonlit flock watching me shake their hay out for easy eating or watching me stumble over to the water.  Then you’d see the amusement on their faces.

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The sheep and I are gradually settling on the idea of hay and barn warmth and the season of waiting for lambs and grass.  It seems that Earl Scruggs the ram has done his job for the most part, and soon will return to my house to spend the winter in a barn of his own with Agnes and perhaps Martha by his side.   For my part, I am happy enough to be relieved of making pastures.

I’m also hoping to clear out some of my stash of yarn from the girls.  Those of you who read this regularly know that I have some really nice yarn, all dyed and ready to be bestowed on a knitter or crocheter, or made into something and bestowed on anyone who needs a hat or mittens or a scarf.  I’m offering a sale right now – buy two balls of yarn and I’ll ship it for free.