A Chorus of Maaa'ing
Turn-out day at Runamuk Acres
The chorus of maaa’ing was too comical as I worked to bring the first of our electric fences online for the season. Those sheep who have been with me a few years know what it means when their farmer begins messing with the fences and it hadn’t taken long for them to pick up on what was happening. They called pitifully to me from their winter encampment across the yard, and I chuckled at their dramatics as I replaced insulators and tightened wires. Get yourself a cuppa and join me on the farm for the latest update!
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
Bringing Fences Online
Goats get too much credit, I think, for their antics. I’ve found my sheep to be every bit as quirky and prone to shenanigans as goats could ever be. BraeTek, my 17 year-old son, and I discussed it as we worked our way around the perimeter of Garden 2. Replacing broken insulators is the first step in bringing the electric fences online for the season.
“I think it’s just you!” BraeTek declared. “Your weirdness is so powerful that it infects everyone around you─”
“Well, that explains you,” I teased.
“I know!” he agreed. “And Auntie, too!”
Eight years my junior, my sister and I have always been fairly close. She's often attributed her own quirkiness to my influence.
I sighed dramatically as we moved from one t-post to the next, “I guess I just bring it upon myself by being so freaking awesome.”
Eventually the sheep realized that access to the grass wasn’t going to be immediately granted, and as we moved further away, circling around the backside of the garden, they retreated to the Nursery to pacify themselves with dry hay instead.
To bring each of the semi-permanent electric fences online requires the following process:
First, replace broken insulators and restring wire.
Mend any breaks in the wire & tighten sagging lines.
Check grounding system connections.
Reposition any loose posts: requires pulling the post to reset.
Wire in the energizer and turn on the fence.
Troubleshoot if fence doesn’t immediately work properly.
Success!
Once the fence for Garden 2 was online, then I could pull out a couple rolls of electric-net fencing. Running a “pig-tail” (a length of insulated cable that I connect to the electric fence, allowing me to offset the net-fences), I set the fence up to allow the flock of ewes and lambs access to the grass outside their winter yard.
Chasing Waterfalls
Thursday dawned rainy and too wet for working outside. By late-morning the rain had mostly stopped, though it remained overcast with the threat of the occasional shower. On impulse, I decided to take BraeTek and spend the afternoon chasing waterfalls.
Maine is a landscape blessed with many lakes and rivers, and more than 360 named waterfalls. Making our way in a northeasterly direction, our first stop was Houston Brook Falls in Bingham. A short, half-mile hike out and back, the Houston Brook Falls is a horsetail and plunge-type falls with a 36-foot drop. Wild and rugged, with jagged rocks throughout the formation, these falls display Maine’s raw natural beauty.
While we were there the sun emerged, albeit briefly, lol, illuminating the waterfalls in the most majestic way and it took me completely by surprise when my son suggested that he would be willing to do “the selfie-thing” with me.
Something of an introvert, and─I suspect─a little self-conscious of his size, BraeTek abhors having his picture taken, so this was pretty special.
After that brief detour, we continued onward towards the West Forks and Moxie Falls. Moxie is a plunge and cascade-type falls dropping some 30-yards down a craigy ravine and renown throughout the state. It’s an easy 2.1 mile hike from the road down to the gorge on a well-maintained trail, with a series of wide stairs and safety railings along the viewing area.
The Question of Crowd-Sourcing
Though finances are still precarious, I’ve opted to let go of my financial fears to focus instead on abundance, hanging onto gratitude like a life-line. I managed to hash out a payment arrangement with the electric company and sent a partial-payment to the water utility, but the car desperately needs some TLC and with a $2000 hay-purchase looming, I’m giving serious consideration to the suggestion of crowd-sourcing.
Having crowd-sourced the down-payment to purchase my farm 7 years ago, I know full-well this is not something to be taken lightly. It takes a significant amount of preparation and coordination. I’d have to make a video to go with it, come up with incentives or rewards, and assemble a compelling case to persuade investors.
Potential incentives: bee-hotels, adopt-a-sheep sponsorships, farmstand-credit, pre-orders on my novel, a free 2-night farmstay with breakfast included, or a lifetime subscription to the Runamuk blog. Would that be enough? Or should I get more elaborate and creative?
Crowdfunding draws on your social standing, asking your community to support your endeavor─and it comes with a price. If the go-fund-me campaign tanks, it can damage your social credibility. But if it’s a success, Runamuk’s name and mission could be launched into notoriety, which could be a huge turning point for this farm and ecologic reserve.
With more funding, I could invest in more fencing for the field, making the job of rationally grazing the sheep-flock 100-times easier on this solo-farmer. I could invest in an ATV to pull the livestock-houses around the field, rather than using my own aging body. I could build a high-tunnel or purchase a commercial refrigerator for the farmstand. Or─dare I say?─even hire help?
Honestly, I’d be happy just to be able to cover the cost of our annual hay investment right now. Without it, I may have to give serious consideration to selling the entire flock─the cornerstone of my conservation project─and I’m just not ready to give up on sheep yet.
What say you, my lovely community of readers, followers and farm-supporters? What are your thoughts on crowd-sourcing? Are they done to death? Do you think you or people you know would support my venture? Share your thoughts in the comments.
A Chorus of Maaa’ing
Greeted by a chorus of maaa’ing as I opened the front door to a fresh, new morning, joy and gratitude surged within me. How long did I yearn and pray for this life? The journey was a struggle and I worked hard to bring myself to this place in time. Every day on this farm is a precious gift and I am grateful for every hardship that brought me here.
I came from a squalid single-wide trailer in the woods, raising my babies without plumbing. Through sheer grit and determination I pulled myself up by the bootstraps, using the skills I possessed as a homemaker and homesteader to buy my own home and farm. Every day might be filled with hard work, but it’s work I enjoy doing─work that I find intrinsically meaningful.
Maybe I should be agonizing over finances, but when I look back at everything I’ve done so far I can’t help feeling that it will all work out somehow…just as it always has. And as I watched my fat sheep greedily devouring the grass, I gave thanks a thousand times over to the Universe─to whatever Gods may be─for the abundance in my life.
Much love to you and yours, my friends.
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!
Ugh, fencing is the bane of my existence!
Hurrah for RunaMukAcresFarm!