Mid-Life Transition
Whatever fantasies I’d had of Runamuk’s being a key-supplier of locally produced foods for surrounding communities ended with my last relationship...
Driving onto the field Saturday morning, I couldn’t help but laugh when 3 of my 4 rams came running to greet the car. Early on they learn the car means their farmer is coming with grain and water—and love. The funny part, though, was these boys were hanging out in front of the ewes’ pen—clear across the field from where they aught to be. These sorts of shenanigans are more common as rutting season approaches and no longer sends me into a fit of panic, running back and forth across the field chasing sheep. I invite you to join me now at the Runamuk Acres Conservation Farm in Maine for the latest farm-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
All summer, the sheep have been on the field divided in 2 groups to prevent unsanctioned breeding. I prefer to wait until November 1st to introduce my ram to his designated ladies so that babies are born in March, when the temperatures here in Maine are on the rise. While these sorts of break-outs are more common the closer we get to breeding season, one of this year’s lambs has been something of a nuisance in weaning. Check out this bit from a post I wrote earlier in the summer for some of Taz’s other shenanigans.
Shenanigans
When I named him, I could not have known how he would live up to his name-sake, the Tazmanian Devil from the old Warner Bros. cartoons. Our theme this year was cartoon characters and I love those old retro cartoons, so I went with Taz, while his brother was dubbed “Picachu” by BraeTek.
Just a few days before this particular incident, I’d come onto the field for morning critter-chores only to have the 3 rams come running to greet me. I lured them back to their pen with a cup of grain and found Taz so fully wrapped up in the fence that I was sure he was dead.
Every now and again, one sheep will decide the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. He or she will insist on poking their head through to munch and nibble whatever they can reach.
This is a clear indication of a failing on the part of the farmer. It means either the fence is not receiving electricity or the charge is not strong enough to deter the animal and keep it contained.
In most instances, it doesn’t take much to hold the average sheep and a low-pulse is fine. But these “fence-fkrs”, as I’ve come to refer to them, are maybe a little smarter or maybe a little stupider, lol. In any case, they’ll tolerate a low-level shock to access the grass on the other side of the fence—or they just don’t feel it through all that beautiful wool.
If they get stuck or tangled, as was the case on both these mornings involving the Tazmanian Devil, they can bring down an entire swath of these electric-net fences and then the other sheep are free to wander at will. I’m fortunate the field is large enough that they don’t seem inclined to go further.
Mercifully, Taz was not dead and I was able to extract him from the fence.
Now it had happened twice I was forced to take action to ensure it did not become a habit, which would ultimately send this animal to freezer camp. The spitting image of my previous breeding ram, Taz has the size of his father, if not the same mellow temperament (Picachu got that, though he’s just a teensy bit smaller). I’d intended for Taz to replace K, this year’s breeding ram, but if he couldn’t learn to respect the fences, he’d sign his own death certificate.
To keep some distance between them, the sheep have been moving in opposite directions on opposite sides of the field. The first incident had happened while the 2 groups of sheep were in passing, stationed directly across the field from each other, with the long line of the field-fence between them. It hadn’t been that long since we were finally able to pull Taz away from the ladies for weaning, and having his mother just across the way emboldened him with the fence, I thought.
Foolishly, however, I’d kept the solar charger on the ram’s fence, which had worked fine up till then.
Unfortunately, the strength of the solar charger was no longer enough of a threat to Taz and here we were on this second morning, with the 3 other boys clear across the field and Taz once again half-dead, wrapped up in the net-fence.
I knew what I had to do.
Once I’d lured the boys away from the ladies, extracted Taz from the fence and had all 4 rams contained, I went for a length of insulated cable. Running a “pig-tail” to the electric-net fence encircling the boys’ camp, I connected it to the AC-powered field-fence.
With the boys and charger at opposite ends of the field, it was a bit of an act to bring the thing online. Even before I could get back to turn the charger on, Taz had his head through the net-fence. At that distance, though, I couldn’t see what was happening, so it wasn’t until I returned from turning on the power that I found him stuck in the fence, thrashing as he was repeatedly shocked. In the car, I raced to turn the power off, then sped back down the field to untangle the lamb before all 4 rams escaped again. Then, I raced back to turn the power on before he stuck his head through the fence again!
Finally, I had the fence on and went to observe, waiting for Taz to test my theory and hoping the charge was strong enough to teach him a lesson. I did not want his fate to be forfeit; this is my prized breeding ram we’re talking about!
So accustomed to having free reign, it didn’t take him long to make an attempt for a lush clover blossom just on the other side of the netting. He received a surprising shock and decided to eat what was inside the fence instead.
Success!
Biker Rally
Meanwhile, the United Bikers of Maine held their annual convention at the New Portland Fair Grounds last weekend, which is maybe? half a mile down the road from Runamuk. Every year, hundreds of bikers flock to the event, racing and roaring back and forth past the farmhouse. While we made out good on the farmstand, it’s a loud and obnoxious event and probably my least favorite weekend of the year to live here, lol.
Not a fan of motorcycles, I just can’t get into it—however, UBM hosts an annual charity event which collects toys for needy children and then delivers them (by bike, of course) throughout the state of Maine. This is something I can get behind, and so I tolerate the blaring music that emanates from the fairgrounds, the throttling motorcycles and the increase in traffic on my quiet little country road.
Mid-Life Transition
With my 44th birthday looming, I feel like I’m in a mid-life transition. This last year and a half I’ve come to accept the fact that there’s only so much I can do as a solo lady-farmer. Whatever fantasies I’d had of Runamuk’s being a key-supplier of locally produced foods for surrounding communities ended with my last relationship.
I look around at other homesteaders and small farmers, the majority with a significant other—a partner in life and business. The amount of work they can accomplish as a team far surpasses whatever I can get done in a day on my own and I’m at the point where I’m tired of trying.
What does that mean, exactly?
Don’t panic, I’m not selling the farm or giving up farming. Let’s not be silly! It’s part of who I am now.
Yet, I’ve been scaling things back—channeling my energy into the projects most important to me in this chapter of my life. And those projects seem to be: my writing, Runamuk’s conservation efforts, and ensuring that my son, BraeTek, has a good start in his adult life.
My mid-life transition is a shift into a writer-first mentality, with the role of “farmer” now taking a back-seat. Thus, I am pleased to announce that my book: “How to Buy a Farm With No Money” is now available in PRINT!
Over the last week or so, I also published a piece about self-reliance and the latest edition of On Blackstone Mountain is available at Wild Hearts & Harvests. (Psssst! Click on over to subscribe and receive those chapters directly to your inbox!)
Spread the Word!
Yes, I’ve been busy in these pre-dawn hours. Slowly and steadily pecking away at a variety of writing projects. Then, in the evenings when the farm and critter-chores have all been done, I sit on the couch in my cozy living room and work on promotional materials to market all of that writing.
It doesn’t do any good to write, if no one ever reads your work. And how are they going to know if you don’t tell them?
With that in mind, I’m asking my faithful readers and followers to please share the Runamuk Blog with someone you think might enjoy it. Please, help me spread the word about my writing.
Sending love and good juju.
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!
I am so sorry to hear that your ram was being norty. Be they domestic pets or livestock or otherwise (?), it's always something with animals around, isn't it?