Daily Farm Photo: 10/30/06
Ram! Bam! Look Out, Ma'am!
What A Guy
Many of you know that it can take a while to get a name around here. And when someone does finally get a name, it is pretty much guaranteed that not everyone will think it is as wonderful as I do.
Back in September we drove up to a friend's farm to pick out a new Suffolk ram lamb to breed with our flock. After we had him loaded up and were getting ready leave, my friend turned to me and delivered these parting words with great seriousness:
"Just don't give him a ridiculous name like you gave the last one."
"Leopold? What was wrong with that?"
"No. What was the one before him?"
"Rammy."
"No. What else did you call him?"
"Big Boy?"
"All I remember is you started calling him some goofy name while you were still here, and after you left we couldn't stop laughing. Heck, we still laugh about it and that was years ago." (For some reason this dear friend finds humor in pretty much everything I do and say, including chasing around baby pigs with my camera.)
So as soon as we got back to the house, I dashed off an email to my laughing pal letting her know that we had arrived safely and that 'Stud Muffin'--whose unloading from the truck had attracted the undivided attention of the entire flock (and Dan)--was settling in just fine.
Once we had stopped laughing, we began to put a lot of thought into our new ram's real new name. The thing was, Stud Muffin had started to stick. It was cute (you know I love cute), and he did look like a stud as he strutted around his pen for the girls. Plus the "muffin" part even gave it a baking slant. But knowing that if I named him Stud Muffin my friend (who will be reading this) would never, ever, ever let me live it down, we wisely chose something else.
Some of you may remember Jeff from the Name That Sheep Contest I held last October. Jeff (who keeps his household in hysterics while his partner Joe keeps them in a dizzying array of yummy stuff) was an avid, determined, giggle-fit-inducing player. When his first choice for a name ("Cashew, as in Cash Ewe hee hee hee!") wasn't a winner, he didn't take offense. He simply continued to play his own version of the contest, changing it to Name That Everything (And Please Name It Jeff!). For over a year now he has been leaving not-so-subtle hints and suggestions in comments on numerous Farmgirl Fare posts. At one point he said he would consider having a piece of farm equipment named after him, "like a tractor or a garden cart." And, in a moment of desperation, he was willing to settle for a tree called Jeff.
Well, Jeff, sometimes persistence pays off. It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you:
Mr. Studly Do-Right Jefferson!
(Who goes by Studly Jeff)
And Do-Right he has certainly done. On October 10th we put Studly Jeff in with the flock.There were 32 ewes to cover (that's farm speak for knock up), and two weeks later he'd pretty much nailed them all. What can I say? Studly Jeff has only One Task on the farm--and he's done a bang up job at it. (Now he's going back and double checking his work.)
Of course five months from now, I will no doubt be hoping that he'd spread things out just a little bit more. Fifty or so lambs born in a couple of weeks? Oh my. We'll have to double (or triple) up at The Bonding Suite Inn. This is definitely going to be interesting--and no doubt crazy. But it'll certainly be better than last spring's three month long lambing season (due to Leopold getting overheated during late summer). There's nothing like 21 nights in a row of reluctantly climbing out of a warm and cozy bed at two in the morning, piling on turtleneck, winter coveralls, heavy jacket, hat, scarf, gloves, and boots, then stumbling down to the barn in the freezing cold, clutching a towel and a bottle of iodine, only to find that nothing is going on. (Then repeating these steps in reverse and trying to fall back to sleep for a couple of hours.)
I have a feeling, though, that getting back to sleep this next lambing season won't be a problem, as I probably won't be getting to go to bed in the first place. Hmmmm. Maybe I should make up a little hay bed and just plan on living in the barn for a while. There would be plenty of wool to keep me warm. And I bet Cary would love to finally get to spend an entire night curled up next to her mother.
A year of Daily Photos ago:
The Tail End Of This Year's Fabulous Fall Colors
What A Guy
Many of you know that it can take a while to get a name around here. And when someone does finally get a name, it is pretty much guaranteed that not everyone will think it is as wonderful as I do.
Back in September we drove up to a friend's farm to pick out a new Suffolk ram lamb to breed with our flock. After we had him loaded up and were getting ready leave, my friend turned to me and delivered these parting words with great seriousness:
"Just don't give him a ridiculous name like you gave the last one."
"Leopold? What was wrong with that?"
"No. What was the one before him?"
"Rammy."
"No. What else did you call him?"
"Big Boy?"
"All I remember is you started calling him some goofy name while you were still here, and after you left we couldn't stop laughing. Heck, we still laugh about it and that was years ago." (For some reason this dear friend finds humor in pretty much everything I do and say, including chasing around baby pigs with my camera.)
So as soon as we got back to the house, I dashed off an email to my laughing pal letting her know that we had arrived safely and that 'Stud Muffin'--whose unloading from the truck had attracted the undivided attention of the entire flock (and Dan)--was settling in just fine.
Once we had stopped laughing, we began to put a lot of thought into our new ram's real new name. The thing was, Stud Muffin had started to stick. It was cute (you know I love cute), and he did look like a stud as he strutted around his pen for the girls. Plus the "muffin" part even gave it a baking slant. But knowing that if I named him Stud Muffin my friend (who will be reading this) would never, ever, ever let me live it down, we wisely chose something else.
Some of you may remember Jeff from the Name That Sheep Contest I held last October. Jeff (who keeps his household in hysterics while his partner Joe keeps them in a dizzying array of yummy stuff) was an avid, determined, giggle-fit-inducing player. When his first choice for a name ("Cashew, as in Cash Ewe hee hee hee!") wasn't a winner, he didn't take offense. He simply continued to play his own version of the contest, changing it to Name That Everything (And Please Name It Jeff!). For over a year now he has been leaving not-so-subtle hints and suggestions in comments on numerous Farmgirl Fare posts. At one point he said he would consider having a piece of farm equipment named after him, "like a tractor or a garden cart." And, in a moment of desperation, he was willing to settle for a tree called Jeff.
Well, Jeff, sometimes persistence pays off. It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you:
Mr. Studly Do-Right Jefferson!
(Who goes by Studly Jeff)
And Do-Right he has certainly done. On October 10th we put Studly Jeff in with the flock.There were 32 ewes to cover (that's farm speak for knock up), and two weeks later he'd pretty much nailed them all. What can I say? Studly Jeff has only One Task on the farm--and he's done a bang up job at it. (Now he's going back and double checking his work.)
Of course five months from now, I will no doubt be hoping that he'd spread things out just a little bit more. Fifty or so lambs born in a couple of weeks? Oh my. We'll have to double (or triple) up at The Bonding Suite Inn. This is definitely going to be interesting--and no doubt crazy. But it'll certainly be better than last spring's three month long lambing season (due to Leopold getting overheated during late summer). There's nothing like 21 nights in a row of reluctantly climbing out of a warm and cozy bed at two in the morning, piling on turtleneck, winter coveralls, heavy jacket, hat, scarf, gloves, and boots, then stumbling down to the barn in the freezing cold, clutching a towel and a bottle of iodine, only to find that nothing is going on. (Then repeating these steps in reverse and trying to fall back to sleep for a couple of hours.)
I have a feeling, though, that getting back to sleep this next lambing season won't be a problem, as I probably won't be getting to go to bed in the first place. Hmmmm. Maybe I should make up a little hay bed and just plan on living in the barn for a while. There would be plenty of wool to keep me warm. And I bet Cary would love to finally get to spend an entire night curled up next to her mother.
A year of Daily Photos ago:
The Tail End Of This Year's Fabulous Fall Colors
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