The art of writing about your art

Sooner or later, someone is going to ask you to submit a bio. Maybe it’s for your listing on the Arkansas Craft Guild web site, or for promotion for a gallery opening, or for advertising for a craft show. Most of us hate to “blow our own horn” and it is terribly hard to condense your life and your craft into the one or two paragraphs they always want.

I have crafts people ask me to write up their bios frequently and I came up with this series of exercises to help them focus on their craft and figure out what to say. Remember, these short bios are a snapshot of where you are, right now. If you’re like most artisans, you don’t have the time to write a lot, and in today’s world, people generally don’t take the time to read more than a few sentences.

Work through these exercises and then leave this set for a day, or a week. Come back to it, read it and then write your brief bio. Gear it toward the audience you are hoping to reach - collectors of your art? – fellow artisans? Students? Don’t worry about focusing this piece on just one part of your life. I was recently writing an article about a couple who have been wood carvers for more than 40 years. They have pieces in collections around the world. They shared how they met and started working together.

I listened and remarked, “What a great story.”

They smiled, looked at each and said, “Well, that’s one story.”

If you want help putting together a bio, feel free to email me at jenonthefarm@gmail.com

Writing your bio exercises

Write one word that describes your art - ______________________________

Write one sentence using that word - __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Use that sentence in a three sentence paragraph _____________________________________

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________



This is your “elevator speech” about your art, what you could tell someone in the time it takes to ride the elevator with them.

In one word, what is the most important thing in the world to you? _____________________

Now, think of a conversation with a good friend. In one sentence, how would that friend describe you? _____________________________________________________________

_________________________________________________________________________

_________________________________________________________________________


Now, write a three sentence paragraph describing your artistic self ______________________

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The art and science of purchasing

I'm at the State Parks Gift Show at Degray Lake Resort State Park. And, in spite of comments from people who think it can't be work for girls to shop and who know how luxurious Degray is, I am working.

Would these healthy granola treat cups

sell in the General Store?

I've seen an incredible number of other park store buyers working. Right now the lodge lobby is full of groups discussing orders, using calculators to figure on catalogs and discussing deals with vendors. Purchasing is part art, part science and it is work.

Melody and I spent yesterday making several detailed passes through the vendors. There are several new ones here this year, new lines being repped and we have some new directions at our park, with Loco Ropes and the new cooking classes.

We placed a few orders for the easy, obvious things. I wanted a few new tshirt designs and we found a great one. It comes in youth sizes, too and will stay at the lower price point that we've found sells well. You'll just have to wait until March to see what it looks like, but it is really nice.
There is a new book wholesaler with some great titles and we ordered those. We ordered solar flash lights, Burt's bees bug repellent and the mugs, travel mugs and shot glasses with a new name drop design. I found the stainless steel water bottles I've been wanting and ordered those name dropped. We ordered some new candies for the General Store.

Now comes the hard part. The research - is the Lodge cast iron at the Gift Show a better deal than the Texsport we carry now. The answer to this one, after two hours of debate and research is "no" and we'll keep carrying Texsport.

Do we want to develop a line of "Sheep poop" candies?

Sheep poop candies?

They would surely sell, along with "Tree climber's vitamins" and what ever else we can develop. It's cute, tastes good and is pricey. So... we take a catalog and go think some more. Talk to other parks. Debate. Think.

I'm going over what we've found that we like and figuring out -

1. Does this item fit in with the mission of our park?
2. Would it appeal to our visitors?
3. Is it priced at a point that we can resell it?
4. Does it expire?
5. Could it sell in more than one facility in our park?
6. How would we display it?
7. Can it be packaged with items we already sell?
8. Does it compete with any one of our existing businesses?
9. Is it in the budget?

Obviously, some of these questions can be answered with bias. If I like something, I can figure out how it fits in the park mission. But I also know that the things I like are not necessarily things that will sell.
And I know some things that I truly dislike sell well.
So, I'm off to look at some of the trinket vendors... back to work. Or maybe walk along the lake shore and soak up a bit of winter sun. To clear my head so I can think more clearly - really :-).

The lodge at Degray from the lakeside.

Working - really

I'm at the State Park Gift Show at Degray State Park. I'm working, really!

Degray mantle by OFC wood carver Bill Standard

This is a great place to network with other state park store managers and office staff. I am hoping to put together some group buying for this next year. Right now, I'm working on a big cast iron order - Dutch ovens.

The lodge is decorated beautifully, and I always love their fitness center. However, we are out on the edge of the north wing and have no internet access and our water is lukewarm. Putting Melody and I in a room with no wifi was really not a good plan. We'll survive and know next year to request a room closer to the hub.

Bach'n it

Breeding season is over here at Havencroft. Sheep and goats are seasonal polyestrus, meaning, they cycle and breed in the fall and have their babies in the spring. This cycle is light induced, so humans can muck about with it, but I like the poetry of the natural cycle. This way, the momma's are having babies when the grass is coming in, we can shear before they lamb, and I can dry off most of the dairy goats so that we all get a break from milking in the dead of winter. Nature has a good plan.

Here in Arkansas, we don't want babies born too late, either, because as it gets warmer, the parasites get stronger and that can be tough on young lambs. They need to get big and strong before the bugs get going.
So, even though the boys are still willing and the girls who are not yet bred are getting desperate, breeding season is over.

Dapper Dan the Jacob ram, Sultan the colored angora goat buck and
 Footloose, the Saanen/Lamancha dairy goat buck in their bachelor pen. 

The boys have been moved to their bachelor pen, where they'll stay until February, when hormones have settled and then we'll clean that pen out, rest it a bit and have it ready for kidding and lambing. It's right behind the house, so easy to keep an eye on whatever is going on in there.

Last night about 2 am, the coyotes had me awake. The air was fairly comfortable and I sat out on the back porch for a while, listening to the night. The moon was bright, even at 1/4 full. I watched as the clouds scudded over the southern mountains behind the house and filled in the sky. The boys were all talking to their respective flocks as the storm rolled in. Now this morning, it is raining again, but still fairly warm.

Special orders

I don't take special orders. I haven't for years, probably at least since I've lived in Arkansas. I used to - but found they were so stressful and time-consuming that they didn't make sense. I am a perfectionist in my arts and a people-pleaser and I would fret too much trying to make sure that an ordered item was perfectly what the person wanted.

I still get requesst for special orders. At least a few times during Studio Tour and each show people will ask and I reply, "I don't do orders, but I will take inspiration. Tell me what you're looking for, and in the next year or two I might get it made. Check back at next year's show."

Some people aren't happy with that answer, but I pretty much stick to it. Special orders are too much stress.

Vest woven from Mr. Bones fleece

However, every once in a while, one gets through. A man called me this summer, wanting a vest for his wife. I make very few vests, they are a lot of work. Wonderful, warm, comfy and easy to wear, but a lot of work to make. I explained that I don't do orders and we had a nice chat on the phone. He has called several times this year, always polite and friendly and we have nice visits. His wife's vest is almost done and I'll drop it in the mail tomorrow.

I resist doing the vests because of the amount of work involved. Of course, there's the whole sheep care and wool shearing, loom warping, weaving and felting processes involved in producing the fabric. that's the same a making a rug, just with slightly different dimensions.

Then there's challenge of cutting and stitching fabric that is 1/2 to 3/4 inch thick - I broke two needles last night and said a word that shocked Shawn. I did find it interesting that the needles broke before the yarn. I spin good yarn! Now I'm crocheting the edging on the front and the collar and I'll run it through a quick finishing wash.

Mr. Bones, who grew the wool for the vest above.

And then its outside to enjoy some sunshine and build a few quick shelters for the lower ranked dairy and angora goats before tonight's rain comes in. The hoop houses comfortably cover all the critters, but the lower status goats are not allowed into the shelter with the top ranked girls. Just how life is in the goat herd and no use fretting about it. With rain projected at 34-degrees, nobody needs to get wet.

Multiplying my blessings

I am so blessed to work and live in such a nurturing environment as Mountain View and the Ozark Folk Center. The people, weather, land, water and spirit all work together in a way to inspire creativity, community and faith. To quote an email from my dad, "I’m glad you found such a great place to be. J ."


I was blessed to grow up in the military base community, where people cared for and took care of each other. I found community in the unique world that makes up Renaissance Festival family. I've found bits of it with farm friends and through other Connections. I've looked for that in the "real world" and never found it until Mountain View. Not to say it doesn't exist, it just didn't click for me.


I am blessed to have a strong family. We may be scattered and busy, but when we get together, by phone, email or in person, we like each other! We talk, visit, laugh, share memories, hopes and dreams. I count my children among my best friends, my parents are my biggest supporters, my brothers are fascinating people and my aunt is my cheerleader. Much of my strength comes from the love of my family.


I am truly blessed to have the love of my quirky, talented, wonderful life-partner, Shawn. I will never be bored!


I could go on and on counting my blessings - friends, job, freedom, critters, love, happines and on and on...
but that wasn't even the point of this post!


I don't usually give presents, and in our family, we don't really enjoy getting them. We tend to go buy whatever we need, and if the season is right, we'll say, "look what you got me for Christmas." We have a small house, too much stuff already and we have a terrible time throwing anything that looks like it could be useful away. And we are blessed that most of our friends and family are well enough off that they have everything they need. So, we don't do presents.


But this year, maybe, I've figured out a way to perhaps make a bit of gift giving make sense. I have a friend who recently started making lampwork beads. She's got a natural talent for it, her beads are beautiful. She just started selling some with an eye towards making some income. I bought a few beads that I liked. And then, I thought, I could buy a few more for Christmas presents. That way, I'm helping an artist friend build their business, and letting the recipient friend know I'm thinking of them. And with that in mind, I could buy small things from other artists I know, giving thought to friends and family who might appreciate the items and the stories about the people who made them.


So, with that in mind, I'm going to do some Christmas shopping tomorrow during Small Business Saturday. Maybe I'll see you in Mountain View, on the Square, at the Guild Gallery or in the Ozark Folk Center Craft Village.


I am so blessed in so many ways!

The felting process

After 3 washings

Felting is what happens to wool and other animal fibers when you add moisture, change the ph, change the temperature and agitate them. It is a permanent strong process that has been used by humans since they began using animal fibers. Felt makes good strong tents (yurts).

Its what happens when you throw your favorite sweater into the washer. It is also an art form that many people use to create beautiful fiber art (sometimes using the sweater that is no longer wearable).

I've been felting my rugs for many years. It allows me to weave them fairly loose and relatively quickly with raw fleece, right off the sheep. I hate washing fleece! Then, I spend several days in the felting process with each rug. The rugs shrink, firm up and become very thick, cushiony and extrodinarily durable. And, as a bonus, they are washable. They've already shrunk as much as they are going to. They usually shrink a lot. This is Demi's rug after 3 washings. It is a little more than 1/2 the size it started out. You can see the amount of shrink by looking at it laid on the same Afghani rug in the previous post.

I don't felt just rugs, I also take those sweaters that accidentally (really it was an accident! I know you liked that sweater Shawn) get felted and make spindle bags, crochet hook cases and Christmas stockings. The one in the picture I made as a part of the Christmas give-away package that we are drawing for today at the Ozark Folk Center.

I can't decide which side I like better, but I guess the stocking's new owner can make that decision.

Stocking side A

Off the loom

I took the Demi rug off the loom. It looks like it will be a nice runner. Now the felting process begins. First a gentle wash to rinse out the worst of the dirt and set the shape. 

Then it starts going into the front-load washing machine. Most of the rugs take seven washings and dryings before they are done. Then they are fully felted and machine washable.

Ziffer gives the new rug a roll test.

Evangelizing

I just realized last week that I am great at research and learning things and trying to live my life by what I think is right - but I am terrible about sharing those things that I find. I just figure the information, projects and ideas I find are cool, and out there for others to find.

Last week, a friend discovered the 3/50 Project and email their information to many of us. The 3/50 project is a grassroots movement that asks people to pick 3 local businesses and spend $50 each in those 3 over the year. We have a local grocery, local health food store, local restaurants that aren't parts of chains and of course, our crafts people are all independent local businesses. They have lots of facts and figures at the web site about how this simple step will help your home town, where you live. Like I'm always saying, "take care of your own first."

I hit "reply all" and pointed out the the 3/50 project has a facebook page. Then a friend called me and asked if I had any of the 3/50 bumper stickers or their pamphlets. Boy did I feel silly, I hadn't even thought to share the  existence of the group.

Then there was Small Business Saturday. It's the movement to encourage people to shop at small businesses on the day after Black Friday. Check out the link and visit your favorite crafts person or other small businesses on Saturday, Nov. 27.

So, I'm going to try to do better at sharing the cool projects, organizations and happenings I find. Have you ever heard of Real Milk?

Demi's rug

So I dipped into the yarn stash under the bed and pulled out three bags of wool yarn to do felting swatches on. I crocheted up a patch of the gold, the black and the cream and threw them in with the laundry load. The cream and black felted up beautifully and equally. So, I started to warp the loom. After 17 passes, I discovered that every skein of black yarn in the bag was a different brand!! I may regret it, but I didn't want to take the time to swatch test each one, so I just kept on warping.

The resulting warp is very pretty, though it took longer to thread on the loom than I expected. The weaving is going a bit slow, too, but the rug looks gorgeous right now.

 I'm using Demi's fleece. Demi is one of Lena's bottle babies. She is half Icelandic and half CVM. She was born black, but is now a silvery grey with black undertones - a truly beautiful fleece. We have to shear all the Icelands and crosses twice a year, because their wool grows so long and thick. 

Nilly talking to Demi through the fence

We keep a Matilda fleece cover on her, and many of the angora goats and other sheep through the winter to keep their fleeces clean while we are feeding hay. The Matilda covers fit well and are breathable, so the fiber grows well underneath and the animals stay healthy.

Countdown to December 11 Studio Tour

Current shawl on the studio loom

Ok, today is November 21, so there are 20 days left 'til tour day. We decided to do a Christmas mini-tour for any of the Off the Beaten Path Studios who wanted to participate. I'm getting excited and planning the details for our studios.

Today, fix fences in the angora goat pen, dog kennel. Sort sheep by weight and check Famacha and body scores in all three flocks. Cook up green chili for dinner. Make farmer's cheese. Finish carding Frits fleece and weave on the tri shawl in my studio.Do felting test on some warp yarns while doing laundry.

Tomorrow - chores and weave a bit in the morning. Meeting at work at 10, pay bills and run a few errands in town afternoon, bring my rigid heddle home from the spinning and weaving shop. Warp with yarns decided yesterday. Would love to do some stripes. The painted warp rugs seemed to confuse people, though they have all sold except one, but how to you decide what room to put a rug in when one end has highlights of olive and the other burgundy?

Tuesday - blog, chores and maybe a bit 'o weaving in the morning, work with really wonderful people on several projects including the Ozark Christmas Carol until 5ish, then dinner, chores and spinning, hopefully finishing out Frits fleece and starting on Chantilly's.

And so on... I think I'll have the two shawls on my big looms done, along with about half-a-dozen that I have finished already, a small but good selection of rugs, several handbags, hats and scarves and lots of yarn. Lena's been working on some beautiful knitting needles. The bois d'arc ones feel like glass and are so gorgeous to look at. Shawn's backed up on orders, but he'll at least be doing some custom crochet hooks that day. We'll be ready on December 11, and I hope you'll all come join us.

Our Busman's Holidays

Shawn and I started out car-pooling with each other, spent years working together, then years traveling to craft shows together, then years commuting a long distance to work together.
Now, for the last year, even though we both work at the Ozark Folk Center, we live close enough that we often don't even drive in together. We both miss our time in the car to talk, plan, chat, muse, discourse, rant and be silly. We miss that connection we made while filling up the hours and miles in the car with hopes and dreams.

So, as the season wound down in the Craft Village at the Ozark Folk Center, we started traveling to nearby towns to check out the crafting world in those areas. When we were in Hot Springs last Sunday, the scrimshaw artist we were visiting with, said, "Oh, so you're taking a busman's holiday." I had heard and used the term before, so I know what it means, but where did it come from?

Looking it up on the web shows that it is from the 1800's (way before motor buses) and that it does mean to take a holiday that is similar to your work. But I have yet to find a story that satisfies me as to where the phrase came from. Anybody want to offer any explanations?

So far, we've gone to Eureka Springs, Mountain Home and Harrison to look at Arts and Crafts galleries, hobby stores, studios and to visit with crafts people. Thus far, these visits have left me so impressed with what we have in Mountain View.

The next towns we have on our list are Fayetteville, Fort Smith, Hardy, Batesville and Hot Springs. I'll let you know if we find any real treasures.

On my soapbox

Before any one ever coined the word "locavore or localvore" (a word which I dislike. It sounds like some monster from a horror flick) I have been saying "Know you producer. Eat food grown by people you know!"

And as a crafts person in the United States and as a person who is responsible through my job and various boards for helping other crafts people, I have often written emails to groups like Novica and Kiva asking why they don't help people in the US? I know many people (mostly working artists) in our county who live without indoor plumbing, an automobile or other things that many Americans take for granted. Aren't their dreams and designs as deserving of support as someone on the other side of the globe? Take care of your own first.

Now, through the growth of internet communities, I see that support coming home. I just pledged to help a group I've followed for several years through KickStarter. I'm sure there's a lot on there that I wouldn't support, but it is a wonderful concept. And I see through articles that Kiva Bank has come to the US. It seems strange that it takes the World Wide Web to bring the concepts of community, sharing and caring for your neighbor back home.

Ok, off my soapbox and out to milk goats...

Handmade Christmas Classes



Amy's leather Christmas ornaments



Well, I got all the students settled with their teachers in their respective classrooms and I can hear the low murmur of craft classes starting. This year the Handmade Christmas Folk School classes that made were the:

Corn shuck nativity

Decorating with Nature

Frame looms, fibers and finishes

Wood Turning - spindle turning
Handmade Herbal Gifts

Reed Basket Weaving

Stained Glass Ornaments

They are all progressing happily into learning their crafts.

This session of Folk School is a hard one. It is really too close to the Holidays for most people, but we are so busy in October and early November that this is the first weekend we can open up especially for classes. So, we'll keep on holding it this weekend and gathering the students who want a refreshing change of pace before the hectic holidays begin.

One thing that has been developing from it is people booking classes at a time when it works for them. Our design-your-own workshops are becoming more popular and we keep adding teachers and subjects all the time. Take a look at the links and let me know what classes you'd like to take.

Stash busting -an early resolution

My diamond shelf that my kids built for me

I love yarn. I love the colors, the texture, the drape, the weight. I love the feel of it gliding through my hands as I crochet. I love to wind it into warp for my loom. I love to look a my diamond shelf and mentally combine color possibilities for shawls. I love yarn.

And I lots of yarn. In addition to my diamond shelf full, I have an entire table top full of baskets of my handspun on the other side of the workshop. I also have 6 large gray tubs full of yarn under our king-sized bed. Shawn swears that one of the 4-horse trailer loads that it took us to move to Arkansas was full of yarn. That's not true, there were looms and spinning wheels and other large items in that load, too.

So, I've decided that this year, I am going to keep up my production for galleries, shows and studio tours - without buying another skein, cone, hank or ball of yarn for the entire year. This should stretch my creativity. I already have an interesting shawl on the home workshop loom that would not have been created if I could have gone out and bought the yarn that I envisioned to go with the yarn I had.

It's an interesting challenge to myself. I'll keep you posted on how it's going.

Meet my Fritillary

This year is an F-year in our naming progression, and so we have Finesse and Freely and Fancy and Filigree and First and so on. The Arkansas State Butterfly is the Diana Fritillary. We had a huge flock of them in Meadow Creek. They are black with brilliantly colored fringes - females are blue and the males are yellow. Not only are they a beautiful Ozark native, I love saying the word "Fritillary."

When Fritillary was born, she was a soft, fluffy little fluttery angora goat kid. Her mum is Bramble and Cappucino is her sire. I've often said you have to be careful when naming things. Frits has grown up to be as hard to catch as your average butterfly. She flitters and flutters around the edge of the flock, never quite alighting for feeding when humans are near. She also has these funny, sticky-outy ears that make her look like she is trying to fly. On the rare times I do manage to catch her, I call her my fat, furry little flutterby.

Fritillary's first shearing was a few weeks ago and I couldn't wait to spin her kid fleece. It was locky and fine and soft and strong. I'm about halfway through it and Shawn is tired of hearing me ooh and ahh over how wonderful it is to spin. The yarn I just finished last night is spun lace weight, plied with space-dyed mauve/maroon wool. It would crochet up into a divinely soft scarf or two. And, if the skeins don't sell at the Dec. 11 studio tour, then that's what I'll do with it.

Female Diana Fritillary, Arkansas official state butterfly, photo courtesy of the Paris Chamber of Commerce from the Mount Magazine Butterfly Festival.

Those dilemmas you love to have

Ok folks, help me out with this one.
I am getting ready for the Dec. 11 winter studio tour. I've been spinning lots of luscious mohair and Lena's been dyeing it up for me.
Bramble and her kids fleeces are my favorite to spin right now. This is Bram and her last year's daughter and this year's twins.



This is the shawl I wove out of Bramble's spring 2010 fleece that Lena dyed with blues and yellow. The overall effect is a green shawl, like the green of the mountain behind our house in early summer.

This is the yarn I spun out of Bramble's fall 2010 fleece that we sheared the end of October. Lena dyed it for me using blues and reds. It came out a wide mix of glistening purples.



Now the dilemma - do I weave this beautiful mohair into a shawl like the one above (that so many have admired, but I don't want to sell) or do I offer the skeins for sale at the Dec. 11 Studio Tour?

Your thoughts?

The big bucks

Last night, about 1 a.m., I heard a goat crying. It wasn't a hurt cry, it was an upset, or maybe in heat cry. So I listened for a while, but it only got more strident. So I got up to check it out.

Footloose, the kid dairy goat buck was not having any luck sharing his pen with Dapper Dan the Jacob ram. One of Dan's girls was in heat and Dan was very frustrated. He was chasing Footsie back and forth across the pen. Footsie was complaining loudly. Moonshine, the Great Pyr guard dog, started to worry that his goat was upset and no human had come to fix it, so he began barking. My sleep addled brain decided that they would soon wake up the whole neighborhood and so I needed to do something.

I put on my white fluffy bathrobe and the nearest shoes I could find. I settled Moon and went over to coax Footsie past the ram and out of the pen, without getting smashed myself. Footsie was so happy to be saved, he rubbed his head all over the front of my robe and up and down my leg while I shut the gate.

If you've never met a dairy goat buck in rut, you have missed one of the truly unique odors in the world. It is a strong musk that most humans do not find pleasant. It comes from their urine, which they coat themselves with when they are in rut and from the scent glands behind their horns. My robe is now in the washing machine with some heavy duty soap. I wonder if that odor out spray works on musk?

I led the loving and happy buck over to the milk goat paddock. All the does are happily bred, so he hasn't seen the girls in a while. Normally, I would not let the buck near the milkers as his musk can taint the milk, but I couldn't figure out any other place to put him at 1 a.m. He was so excited to see the girls. Suddenly I felt something warm on my legs and across my feet. Bucks like to mark things they like and they like to show off their aim when they are happy. I stood there at the gate and thought, with some degree of sarcasm and sleep-slowed wit, "this is why I get the big bucks."

Then I got back into the house and discovered I had put on my favorite black leather work shoes in the dark. They are now washed and hanging on my spinning wheel to dry. If the odor remover works, I'll let you know.

Hoop houses or waiting for g-barn

We've been here at Havencroft for a year now. In that year, we've moved ourselves, a woodworking studio, a fiber arts studio, a full farm of sheep, goats, horse, angora goats, llama, dogs and cats as well as all the associated paraphernalia for everything to the farm. We've built fences (lots of fences) and a full shop for Shawn. We've put in a driveway and parking lot (I love my parking lot). But we still don't have the finances or the time to put up a barn.

So, we built hoop houses. Using welded wire cattle panels and tarps and t-posts and two-by-fours, we put up  seven of these to provide shelter for all the critters and to be my milk barn this winter. They may need to last a few winters, but I think they will.

When we do decide where the barn(s) needs to go, and how we are going to build it, and actually get it built, then the hoop houses will revert to being fence panels. I can always use more sheep fencing.

Here's Dapper Dan, our Jacob ram, posing in front of his hoop house. My milk barn and the gorgeous crab apple tree are in the background.

Though slightly small, the hoop house even works for Fria. After all, Arabians are tent horses, aren't they?

Chiming the change in weather

Eons ago, or maybe it was only decades, I bought a set of wind chimes at the Colorado Renaissance Festival.
They have big pipes and are tuned like church bells, a rich, low, melodious sound. I'm sitting and listening to them this morning as I wait for the coffee to finish brewing and I realized that those bells have signaled every weather change to my brain for so long, that my subconscious needs their ring to really notice the change.
This morning it is still warm, but cloudy, breezy, damp and it feels like rain.
Oh, we need the rain!!

Sunrise, fall and

 Dapper Dan the ram and Footloose the dairy goat buck are trying to learn how to live together. Neither of them wants to - they both want to live with their respective girls. But Dan- man has too many daughters and ladies to old to breed in his flock, and Footsie smells like a buck in rut, not something I want near my milk goats. So when Dan broke in with the sheep flock yesterday, with the help of his ladies, Lena and Shawn caught him and moved him into the high, tight, strong pen where Footsie lives.
All night long they've been chasing and scuffling and normally quiet Footsie has been complaining loudly. They haven't been fighting - if they did, we'd find other living accommodations for one of them. Rams fight by putting their heads down and charging - bucks fight by rearing up on their hind legs and crashing down on each other. The two styles don't communicate well with each other.
I just went out to start chores and the crabapple tree in the side yard is about the most beautiful tree I've ever seen. All the outside leaves are brilliant red and all the inside ones are still green. The morning sunrise is highlighting it brilliantly. I'd take a picture, but I've been so disappointed with my pictures of fall color this year. It is beautiful, like right now our neighbor's driveway is lined with blaze orange bradford pears, but it just doesn't seem to be coming across in pictures.

Seven sevens

They say, (the ever present communal memory), that our body replaces all of its cells, except brain, every seven years. So every seven years, you have a new you. That seven thing is also present in common thought with the "seven year itch" concept.
So, I'm 49. That's seven sevens. Here I have been, waiting for the great 50, which much of our society thinks of as an achievement and celebrates wholeheartedly (here in the Ozarks I might get to go beyond "young pup" stage when I hit 50) and I almost missed that I was this great and wonderful age of 49!

New Goats

Here's the new buck and two does that are joining our angora flock. We'll wait a week or so to let them settle in and then shear them. They'll be wearing Matilda Fleece covers most of the winter.
Looks like some nice fleece and I'll finally be able to make that white rug!

They had names in the past, and maybe even registration papers.
I've been reading books from the 1800's (courtesy of the Google Library project) about the origins of the angora goats for interpretations and demonstrations that I do. The angora goats originated in Turkey. Books by John Lord Hayes (1882), S. C. Cronwright Schreiner (1898), and the March 1911 Popular Mechanics all have wonderful information about early importations and culture of angora goats in the US.
All of the goats in the antique photos are listed with their names. So, with that as solid precedent (boy I have been reading the stilted language of the 1800's!) I have named the new flock Sultan, and to his left Nasrin (wild rose) and Beyza (very white).
Come visit the Ozark Folk Center through the month of November and meet the new flock.

Sheep sense

Our sheep have a "pen" that is about half-an-acre where they live most of the time. At the top of the pen is a little wooded area that stays about 20 degrees cooler than the rest of the world on sunny summer days. When they are in their pen, the sheep are smart enough to spend their days resting up under the trees, chewing their cud and watching the world drift by below them.

They also have a pasture, that is about an acre. Earlier this year, before it got so hot, we let them out in the pasture for the day and put them in their more secure pen at night. Then it got hot and the pasture grass quit growning, so we kept the sheep penned up. They had their nice routine of socializing and eating hay all night, then resting under the trees in the heat of the day.

Last week, we got a few rains and the pasture grass had a growth spurt. After a few evenings of letting the sheep graze for a couple hours in the evening, I turned them out for the day yesterday morning so they could have the day out to pasture. They have fresh water and salt licks in both the pen and pasture.

When I went home at 2:00 to let the dogs out and check on the sheep. They were out in the sun, in the pasture, trying to graze and panting with open mouths. Gluttony is a powerful force. I tried to herd them in but they ran in all directions. I decided it would be worse to let them run than it would be to leave them out in the pasture. They all survived their foolishness and happily came into their pen for dinner. Funny how they want their dinner after spending the day eating.

This morning, the sheep are in their pen, up on the berm, under the trees, resting. They asked to go out after breakfast, but I told them to be happy they had a shepherd. They can go out this evening when it is a bit cooler and they won't be risking heat stroke while searching for that perfect bite of grass.

Devotional

I was talking with my mom on the phone yesterday. They were camping somewhere in the mountains of Colorado. Cell phones have changed our lives to a depth that I don't think anyone realizes, yet.
She said that my brother and sister-in-law are considering getting chickens. They are big on eating healthy and since we moved to Arkansas are having trouble finding local eggs and milk. Chickens are one big step, but they are manageable for many people. Milk animals, however, are a whole different dimension.

"Milk goats take a lot of devotion," I said, and the word got stuck in my brain. It is the perfect word to describe the relationship between dairy animals and their humans.

From Merriam Webster -

Devotion

Main Entry: de·vo·tion

Pronunciation: \di-ˈvō-shən, dē-\

Function: noun

Date: 13th century

1 a : religious fervor : piety b : an act of prayer or private worship —usually used in plural c : a religious exercise or practice other than the regular corporate worship of a congregation

2 a : the act of devoting b : the fact or state of being ardently dedicated and loyal

If you choose to have a dairy animal, you will devote time daily to milking, feeding and watering them. In order to get milk, the times must be on a regular schedule. Lack of routine creates stress and stressed animals don't milk.

Where other people have their daily devotional of reading, yoga, meditation or breathing - mine is milking. The schedule changes with the seasons, an homage to nature, but it is daily, 365 days a year. Right now I milk at 7 am and 7 pm, with little variation. This is a peaceful, relaxing, routine time for both me and the goats. It is a physical, mind-free routine that is centering and grounding.

Sheep pets

Our sheep have pets. It seems to be a sheeply thing. They have a lively curiousity and an empathy that is unusual in the livestock class of animals.
We first noticed this proclivity when one of Gabby's lambs kept following rabbits around the pasture. She did it a lot. She hung around their burrow and would wander around the pasture with the little bunnies. We named her Alice.
Alice went on to win the Reserve Grand Champion Natural Colored Ewe at the 100th anniversary of the Denver National Western Stock Show in 2006. Talk about falling down the rabbit hole!
We sold Alice in a show flock of Jacob Sheep as a part of the move from Colorado to Arkansas. But her story remains in the history of our flock.
This spring I've noticed the lambs have more pets than I've seen in the past. Filigree has her pet Fat Squirrel. She and Fat Squirrel hang around in the little grove of trees in the center of the sheep paddock. They appear to have games and conversations. Actually, Fat Squirrel seems to be oblivious to this relationship. He's just busy collecting, eating and burying food. But Filigree spends a lot of time with her head down in Fat Squirrel's business. I've got that sort of relationship with my dog.
Several of the lambs seem to enjoy the pair of Mourning Doves that nest in the pasture. The lambs have outgrown chasing the doves to get them to fly and now share their grain with the pair.
Of course, the lambs love the baby bunnies who are growing up in the briar patch behind the sheep. Flora especially likes visiting with them, though First goes and looks for them in the mornings after breakfast. That makes sense, First is Alice's granddaughter.

Scary things

This morning as I was making coffee, I looked out the window just in time to see a flash of a small black animal disappearing into the woods behind the sheep pasture.
I went to get my shoes and headed out the door in time to see all the critters react in alarm.

The angora goats ran to their llama and all gathered under her belly. They stood up big and tall and stared up into the woods. Their posture said, "We have a llama, you can't get us." Of course, I don't think they realized the llama would have a hard time fighting off predators with nine little goats underfoot.

The sheep all ran to the fence nearest the house and began hollering. "Maaaaaam! We're scared! Feed us!" Sheep are the ultimate stress eaters. If there's anything scary going on, they want to eat. I'm not sure that is a very sustainable behaviour for a species that is fairly low on the food chain.

The dairy goats looked at the other critters with disdain and began to tromp up the hill to beat up the scary thing. They have no horns or any other defense mechanisms, but boy do they have attitude!

I fed the sheep and heard the stray dogs in the forest take up the scent of a rabbit. They bayed and howled back and forth through the woods behind the pasture. I caught several glimpses of two small short-haired dogs. Nothing big enough to be a threat to our critters, but their barking sure frayed my nerves. They barked up and down the hill, through the forest. They had now been back there for more than an hour.

While I got dressed for work, I considered trying to catch them, but I really didn't have the time to go up into the woods. I wished I had a few fire crackers to scare them off. Now, three days after July 4th I come up with a use for firecrackers.

As I left for work, the stray dogs were still barking and our critters were beginning to ignore them. I hope the dogs are gone when I get home.

Milk Price

I began selling goat's milk back in 1982, in Colorado. It was (and still is) illegal to sell raw milk from the farm in that state. But people come to you and beg and plead and it really helps to pay the feed bills. And I truly believe it is one of the healthiest, best foods on this planet.
At the time, I sold milk for a dollar a quart. An astronomical price - after all milk at the store was $1.25 a gallon, at the time.
I worked with the group in Colorado who got legislation passed to make it legal to offer goat shares in Colorado. You could sell a share of a goat to someone and they got the milk from "their" goat on your farm. It was fun, but our farm was out in the boonies and we had too many people who wanted milk delivery 150 miles away, and the paperwork was a real pain. So, when we were looking to move someplace where water actually fell from the sky, we also wanted some place it was legal to sell goat milk.
Now I sell a little bit of goat milk from my farm in the Arkansas Ozarks. It is legal. And that is a real mind soother. I've been selling it for $1.00 a quart. That's what I've always sold milk for... after all, that's an outrageous $4.00 a gallon.
Last week, a friend who sells quite a bit more milk than I do and makes fantastic cheeses, called to see if he could buy a bit of milk to tide them over until their does freshen. I love my goat milk so much that I try to stagger my breeding so that I always have at least one doe milking. It doesn't always work as I had planned, but this year (knock on wood and cross my fingers) it is working. Right now Yampa and Bea (in the picture) are still milking a bit. So I said sure.  When he came to get his two quarts, he asked how much?
Dollar a quart, I said.
He was adamant that I should not be selling it that cheap. He gets $2.00 a quart and feels that is very reasonable.
So, I checked milk prices at Walmart. I'm sure you know that cow's milk is now $4.29 a gallon, but that shocked the heck out of me!
And the processed, icky tasting goat's milk in the store is $3.49 a quart!
So I spent 3 days stressing about what to do about my milk price. Part of the recent move to Havencroft was so we could sell more of our products from the farm easily.
And then, I went to get fuel for the truck. Now, when I started selling goat's milk, gas had recently spiked to an outrageous $1.25 a gallon. We didn't know how long these ridiculous prices were going to last, after all, we were used to paying 50-75 cents a gallon.
Last night I paid $2.77 a gallon for gas - and it's been right around that same price for many years.

So, I guess Gus is right - my milk price just went up to $2.00 a quart.

First

Many of you are familiar with our naming system for sheep and goats. When I started out with livestock in the early 1980's,  I just named the new babies whatever came to mind. As the years went on, I started having themes for each year's names - for the cheese year we had Brie, Gouda, Edam... Beatles year was Ruby Tuesday, Rita and Lucy... herbs year was a big one with Pennyroyal, Cowslip, Marjoram still being the grand-dams of our flock. We tried a Lord of the Rings year and discovered there were no where near enough female characters in that series! We had a water year after the drought and still have Yampa and Erie.
But after 20 years of naming 20-30-40 babies a year, the themes dried up. So we started with the alphabet. Now it's pretty easy. We know Bea and Bramble were born in the same year. Abracadabra is a year older than Be-Be and two years older than Cappucino. This year is an "F" year.
We thought we were expecting our first lambs and kids mid-March and figured that would give us enough time to haul shavings, chip wood and make some dry clean places. However, Dapper Dan the ram has amazed us. He only weighs about 75 pounds and is our shortest sheep. He is purebred jacob and very typey - he just never grew. We didn't think there was any way he could reach our bigger crossbred and Icelandic ewes to breed them.
Well.. last Sunday, the gorgeous, sunny day between snowstorms, Cocoa, one of our crossbred jacob/corridale ewes presented us with a beautiful spotted, frosted, big, energetic ewe lamb. I was leaning towards Farli for a name when Lena pointed out that her name was obvious - meet "First."
First is the first lamb Cocoa has ever had, First is Dapper Dan's first progeny. First is the first lamb born on Havencroft and the first lamb of 2010. It's a good thing this is an F year, 'cause I don't think she could be named anything else!

Job description

One of our projects for this winter at the Ozark Folk Center is for each of us to write out our job duties to be compiled in a Job Book, both to let new people get up and running more easily and to be able to justify our jobs to the "higher-ups".

I've been trying to write up my job since November and am finding it to be one of the toughest things I've ever written. Just today, my job ranges from doing budget analysis in Excel; to coordinating with maintenance crews about frozen pipes; to scrubbing the gunk off the floor in the General Store so we can coat it with boiled linseed oil; to finishing a press release about upcoming Folk School classes; to contracting with a cowboy poet for performing on our Cowboy weekend.

My job is to make sure that everything is arranged behind the scenes and to make sure that everybody has what they need so that our visitors can play and have fun... why can't I just write that?

Because my job is the details. sigh :-)

Hard decisions

Small farming is most usually wonderful. Morning and evening chores are wonderful bookends to any day. The little quirks and games of your animal friends are far more entertaining than anything that other people might see on the box in their living room.
The highlights of the year, shearing; lambing; milkers freshening are special in a way that supersedes words. The giddy joy of a lampede just has to be experienced.
But to go along with it are the hard times. Having to haul hay up to the shelters in snow that is over your boots. Loosing a treasured friend to illness is a terrible blow. And then there is the challenge of having to scrape up the money to feed everyone when your pasture situation changes.
Havencroft is much smaller than Foxbriar and smaller than the space we were allotted in Meadow Creek. It is a blessing to be so close to town, to be able to spend more time with friends and to be safer on the roads. But we really have too many animal friends for our current space.
So, we are looking for homes for the following:

Herbal Maid Fiber Farm Cappucino -


Cappy is really much better built than he looks in these pics that I took hanging over the fence. At 3-years-old he still produces a nice, heavy (6 lb.) spinnable fleece twice a year. He is purebred, but I have not gotten him inspected for registry. Out of the 6 angora does I have kept, 3 are his daughters. It really doesn't make sense to keep him.
$125.00


Laffing Horse Dapper Dan -
Dan is an amazing miniature Jacob Sheep ram. He only weighs 75 lbs and he is in good flesh. His fleece is very nice, crimpy and cushiony and soft. His markings are classic Jacob. His horns have a nice curl. He is well behaved and respectful, but he is a ram. His dam Basil is a beautiful, perfect Jacob ewe. His sire, Betelgeuse  was a 4-horned ram, so he carries multi-horns.  With only 5 acres, we don't need to be breeding sheep.
$100.00












Laffing Horse Bebe - Bebe is the last of the Navajo  Angora Goats. She was born in 2006. When we moved from Colorado, I sold most of my angora goat flock, bringing only a few special ones. Most of them were regular colored angora goats, but I had a few Navajo Angora Goats. Again, I never got Bebe inspected for registry. She shears a nice light oatmeal-colored fleece twice a year and is a wonderful mother to her kids, whether singles or twins. She is bigger than the rest of my angora flock and an excellent forager.
She is bred to Cappucino for early April kids.
$100.00

Prices are suggested, all offers considered.

I may have some dairy goats for sale as the winter progresses. Let me know if you are interested.

Shoes - um, boots - a girls best friend

There was an article in the news lately discussing a study that said more women remember their first pair of shoes than their first boyfriend.
Well, I don't know about that, but I do know that my wellies are my current best friend! They keep my feets dry (when they don't get sucked off my foot by the mud!), they hose off easily and they keep the bottoms of my pants clean.
I have a friend who looked at the pretty wellies that are currently popular. She wanted a set, but couldn't see paying the outrageous price for pretty plastic. So, she got a regular pair like these at the Coop for $12.00 and a pack of shower floor stickers and made herself a very pretty pair of deco-wellies, that she doesn't want to get any where near our mud!

Snow!

See, it does snow in Arkansas.

The little weiner dog with Quigley lives somewhere in the neighborhood. He comes over every morning about 7 am to see if our dogs can come out to play.

We also have at least 3 orange cats who like to come help with chores morning and night. Our cats are not allowed outside to play, but the other kitties seem to bring plenty of their own friends with them.

Happy 2010 from Havencroft!

Where reality meets dreams, or Merry Christmas from DogPatch

Merry Christmas!

When Shawn bought Havencroft (just this Nov. 1, only 55 days ago!) we had big plans for a big barn. We have some of the materials and the plans and the space and the animals. We really wanted it to be pretty and we planned it that way.

But the reality is, we are moving around a busy work schedule. Moving, building fences and working all take time. In the last 55 days we have closed on the house, pulled up and moved 5 pastures worth of fencing. We have fenced 5 very large paddocks for the horse and llama, the angora goats, the sheep, the dairy goats and the cow. We have also kept up a busy work schedule and moved much of the household, dye studio, weaving studio and woodworking studio.

The animals need to be kept dry and warm and healty. So... the tent up on the hill is the horse's barn. The tarped plywood sheds belong to the angora goats. For now, our beautiful dream farm with all its fancy matching barns is going to be a dream - no - a goal - for the not to distant future. And the animals are going to be as dry and warm as we can keep them with tents and tarps and plywood.

You do what you can and what you gotta do. Pretty comes later.

I hope you and yours are safe and dry and warm. Merry Christmas and I wish you a happy new year full of dreams fulfilled.

Huzzah and Happy Holidays

Today is the end of extended season at the Ozark Folk Center. It's that bitter-sweet happy-sad that is strangely subdued with extended season. We've got to find ways to spark enthusiasm and cement commitment for next extended season.

We're now closed until Folk School in March. Time to inventory, clean offices, write budgets and plan for next year... shifting gears.
I'm taking two weeks off work. It was going to be to visit Colorado, now it's to wrap up the move. Sometimes you get the feeling that your plans are sort of irrelevant?
Merry Christmas all!!

Uncle!

We moved to Arkansas for water. After the worst drought ever in Colorado, 2.25 inches of rain in the YEAR 2002,  I wanted to find a place where we'd never have to worry about having enough water to keep our animals healthy and to grow a garden. Even in the drought, the Mountain View area still got 34 inches of rain in a year. With water conservation measures and redundancies, I know we could manage on that.
So... I love water, I love rain, I love wet, I love green. I don't complain too much about mold or mildew, they come with the wet. I didn't complain about having 22 days of rain in October, though it wiped the leaves off the trees before they turned color and lowered visitorship to our tourist town.
But now at Haven, we have something we have not had anywhere else in Arkansas - clay soil. Which means we have mud. Muddy dogs, muddy boots, muddy goats, muddy sheep, muddy floors, muddy milk, muddy pants, mud, mud, mud, mud, mud. I can't even shower, get dressed in my office work clothes and get to the car without getting mud somewhere on my clothing.... and it hasn't really rained in weeks.
Mark and Lisa, the next door neighbors say the water comes down from springs on the hill behind us. That's a wonderful blessing in the dry times... but this mud stuff is going to take some different management.
Today we are going up to Foxbriar to borrow Sully the chipper/shreader from Robin and Summer. We have ice storm downed trees. We are going to chip all those and start building dry berms for the animals. Tina suggested getting crushed limestone and building high dry gravel spots. We'll do that as soon as we get a few dollars ahead.
We'll deal with it, work around it and in the end be thankful again for the water that makes the mud. But today - I'm hollering "UNCLE!"

Sheep move to Haven Croft

We moved the sheep up to their new pasture at Haven Croft yesterday. It's about twice as big as their old "home" pen. Thanks to Tina Marie, who loaned us her trailer, Lena and I were able to move the whole flock in two easy loads. The angoras have been living at Haven about a week and they were so happy to see the sheep that the smashed down the fence between the two pens and visited. We fixed that droopy section of fence and got everybody back in their own pens.

Pequena the llama was given the choice of whose pen she wanted to be in and she opted to stay with the angoras. They are brattier, but I do think they are more vulnerable to predators, so I might have made that decision for her anyway.
We do see quite a few loose dogs and hear the coyotes sing, so I like having protection for the lower-on-the-food-chain critters. We plan on moving the dairy goats and cow and the last two dogs tomorrow. I've sold the rabbits, but they haven't been picked up yet, so I guess I need to find a place for them, too. Then all the animals will be moved and we just have the studios and the rest of the household items. We keep moving and feeling like we're about half done...
It got down to 16 degrees last night, but it was dry and still, so everybody did fine. The sheep had trouble finding new places to bed down, but they eventually settled. The bright moonlight helped everyone stay comfortable. At one point when I checked on the sheep, a bright shooting star zipped across the ridge behind the house. It was breath-taking.
This morning, I checked on them about daylight and they were all still bedded down in the pasture. Half and hour later, I looked out and there were no sheep to be seen. I yanked open the back door, getting ready to run out in my wooly slippers and flannel night gown. Cute little white sheep faces peered up at me from the cedar grove at the back of their pen. They had discovered that they have access to a bit of the woods.