Sheep Day: A Fall Harvest at Runamuk Acres
The hardest part of farming is not the amount of work or the financial insecurity inherent in the occupation. It’s the inevitability of days like this...
With one ewe already in the livestock trailer and three still to collect, I stood patiently as the flock of ewes circled round me again. My son, BraeTek, stood off to one side, each of us poised, ready to act should the next target come within arms’ reach. She stood before me and I shuffled a step closer, and then—I lunged. Sinking my fingers into 4 inches of wool, icy with the night’s frost, I held the ewe even as she spun round in panic. Landing hard on my hip/bum, I managed to retain a hold on the sheep and now my son was on her, pinning her in place.
Welcome to the latest Updates From the Farm! If you are new here, I invite you to check out my About page to learn what this is, who I am and why I am doing this. Or just dive right in! At “Runamuk Acres” you’ll find the recantings of one lady-farmer and tree-hugging activist from the western mountains of Maine. #foodieswanted
Who to Send?
We’ve grown exponentially as farmers, my son and I. Five years into raising sheep, we’ve learned through trial and error what works for us and what doesn’t. Thanks to that education, we’ve honed our methods and have become an efficient team. Thus, it was business as usual as we set up the spare net-fence kept for rotating the flocks on the field. Just a few lengths—the less space the sheep have, the less running and chasing we have to do, and the less stress it puts on everyone involved.
For a cup of grain rattling in a plastic yogurt container, they came eagerly into the reduced pen and I closed the net-fence behind them. 11 girls here, and 4 boys further down the field, I had.
Age
Selection for the journey begins with age: I tend to keep them for about 3 - 4 years. After that the quality of the meat starts to go the other way, and the ewes begin to lose body condition after so many years producing babies.
Temperament
The next designation is temperament. Anyone I can’t befriend or handle gets sent “onward”. With guests coming to the farm specifically to see the sheep, I want people-pleasers. Also, as a single woman and solo-farmer, it takes a lot of muscle and energy to manhandle even a medium-sized sheep when they require doctoring. A friendly and personable sheep is much easier to work with.
Fence-Fuckers
If you’ve been following for any length of time, you’ve probably heard my rants about the “fence-fuckers”. Any sheep who doesn’t respect the fences has earned themselves a one-way ticket to Freezer Camp. Those sheep put the rest of the flock in danger when they inevitably bring down the fences, and they teach the others their bad habits. For the good of the flock, they’ve got to go.
After that, filling any remaining slots for the journey gets harder… Who to send?
The Art of Asking
I’ve been hugely fortunate to have a supportive community around me throughout my farming journey. Whenever I’m desperately in need, I can call for help and more often than not, Runamuk is blessed with assistance in one form or another.
Asking for help was hard at first, but then I discovered this TedTalk some 7 or 8 years ago, and it changed how I felt about it. Indeed, it’s been the connections I’ve formed with people—both online and in the local communities I serve—that has allowed me any measure of success at all.
Such as the relationship formed a few years back, when I’d sold a starter flock to a gentleman homesteader by the name of Paul Bouche. Thanks to that connection, Paul has volunteered himself and his truck to make the journey with me these last couple years. With a capped bed, Paul’s little truck was an ideal way to transport the handful of sheep I harvest. Sadly the old truck isn’t up to the trip anymore, and this year I had to find an alternate method of transport.
Posting to the Kingfield Community Group on Facebook, I was able to secure the use of a small livestock trailer from yet another local homesteader. My new boyfriend, Dan, volunteered himself and his truck and the problem was solved!
A Battle of Wills
With the recalcitrant ewe held fast between the two of us, BraeTek and I walked her toward the gate. Dan opened the fencing enough that we could pass through, then closed it up again before hurrying to get the gate on the livestock trailer.
Bear in mind that when I say “we walked her”, she is not going willingly. Every step is a battle of wills and involves forcibly pushing and pulling the animal across the ground. Sometimes the sheep will just lay down, as though they’re playing dead, and we have to hoist them onto their feet again, pushing and pulling them onward.
They’ll lunge suddenly, seeking to make a break for it, and we’re required to hold them fast lest they’re loose on the field. It’s a pretty serious work-out.
Having never worked with sheep before, Dan was surprised by how strong they are and I admit my shoulders, biceps, triceps and shoulders are a bit sore today following Sheep Day.
Never a Surly Ram at Runamuk
We took 4 ewes and 2 rams over to Maple Lane Farms in Charleston, Maine, an hours’ drive one-way. I managed to keep my shit together until after the paperwork had been done and everyone was unloaded at the other end. Then, as we pulled away I teared up thinking about those 6 sweet faces I’ll never kiss again.
Yes. I kiss my sheep—right on the nose—they love it and so do I.
Sending my big ram, Caelum (Cae “Kay” for short), was the hardest on my heart. It’s difficult to get close to those who never let you touch them, and even harder to love an aggravating fence-fucker. The rams, however, are particularly special to me.
I think it’s because they’re fewer in numbers on this farm, and always big woolly teddy bears. Many shepherds lament their ornery rams. For my part, however, I’ve never had a surly ram at Runamuk Acres. Every one of them is sweet as pie.
And who doesn’t love pie?
The Cold Shoulder
Returning home to the farm, the girls were rather aloof during the afternoon chores, and I had the distinct feeling they were giving my the cold shoulder.
Sure, they came running for the hay I tossed. But no one wanted my attention and certainly not my kisses. In taking the harvest, I’d broken their trust and it will take a few days before this one bad day is a fading memory.
In the “Ram’s Camp”, the boys felt the pang of loss more keenly, I think. Where there were 4, now only 2 remained. Taz, in particular, cried pitifully for his missing commerades. For his father, Cae, and his older brother, Thorin Oakenshield.
The young ram came to be held, resting the top of his hard head against my thigh. Stooping over the sheep to hug and hold him close, I finally let the tears fall and we cried together, he and I.
My Aching Heart
The hardest part of farming is not the amount of work or the financial insecurity inherent in the occupation. It’s the inevitability of days like this, when you have to make tough calls for the good of the farm as a whole, and—in spite of the relationships you’ve formed with your animals—you have to send someone onward to the final chapter of their story.
Knowing I’ve provided them with an exemplary life—a life filled with plenty of quality food and forage, lots of love, and purpose and meaning in their existence—is some consolation. Though, only time will ease my aching heart.
Normally, it is I sending you love and good juju. Today I am asking you to please send love and good juju back to me. Lend me the strength to go on…for come next April there will be new lambs. New babies to fall in love with. And, in the meanwhile, there is plenty of work to be done on this small Maine farm.
Your friendly neighborhood farmer,
Sam
Thank you for following along with the story of this lady-farmer! It is truly a privilege to live this life serving my family and community, and protecting wildlife through agricultural conservation. Check back soon for more updates from the farm, and be sure to follow @RunamukAcres on Instagram or Facebook!
You made me cry. I didn't want to read this, but I made myself do it. It's the stuff of life. And ... I love that you love your sheep, despite having to let them go. A lesson in impermanence. Sending you love!
What a touching and informative writing. I loved every minute of it. I couldn't help but picture a murder mystery series centered around a courageous, tough female character who is the local sleuth in the county. This has all the makings of a series of some kind-it made me feel like I was right there with you. Sending you all the good juju your way and hoping you have a wonderful day knowing you are so valued.