When Knitter Met Sheep - A Central NJ Adventure
See the happy New Jersey sheep minding their own business on a cold Friday afternoon in winter.
See the happy New Jersey sheep as they suddenly spy the Nosy New Jersey Knitter aiming her digital camera through the fence.
See the Wise New Jersey Sheep who spied the Nosy New Jersey Knitter turn and head for higher ground.
"Run, sheep, run! The woman has Addis and she knows how to use them!"
See the Relieved New Jersey Sheep watch the Nosy New Jersey Knitter as she snaps her last photo and runs back to the relative warmth of her car.
Hear the Slightly Smug New Jersey Sheep as they have the last laugh.
The Nosy New Jersey Knitter is allergic to wool.
posted by Barbara Bretton at 2:09 PM
8 Comments:
LOLOL! Those look like some really big sheep.
Cindi,when we first moved here we were surrounded (literally) by sheep farms within walking distance. Most of them were Rambouillet (sp?) which I think are merino. Each spring these charming signs "Lambs 4 Sale" would appear, nailed to trees and telephone poles and I'd say to my husband. "Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a pet lamb?"
I'll pause while you can politely guffaw. The City Girl didn't realize that the lambs weren't being sold so they could hang with Fluffy and Rover at the old homestead. They were being sold as FOOD.
Anyway, there was another type of sheep raised around here whose name I don't know at all: they had adorable black faces.
I don't know what type the sheep up the road are but I do know this: they have the biggest butts I've ever seen!!
So Barbara, Does that mean if you knit something with their wool you shouldn't ask your spouse if the item makes your butt look big?????
;-)
Kim
Kim, does this mean I can blame it on the sheep!?!?!? (And I wasn't kidding about the size of their butts. When they turned to run [okay, amble] away the fleece was hanging almost to the ground and it looked like a giant [redundant] woolly mammoth in motion.)
OH Barbara, I both laughed and sympathized with your lamb story.
I grew up on a goat dairy. In order to have milk you of course have to have kid goats. But my parents are soft-hearted animal lovers. The first year we had too many kids to keep, my dad advertised them for sale. This is in south Texas, where Cabrito (barbecued kid goat) is a delicacy, and we had no trouble finding buyers. But the whole family was heart-broken that the babies we'd made into pets would end up as barbecue. What to do?
The next year, my dad had discovered that people who own race horses like to keep goats with the horses to keep the horses calm. So this time he advertised his kids for sale to horse owners. A happy solution for all.
I grew up on a farm and we had sheep. We brought a lamb inside one winter because she was almost frozen to death. My sisters and I nursed her in front of the fire place with a baby bottle and tied a red ribbon around her neck. She was our special pet.
When she became dinner I didn't speak to my mother for a week! It took me more than 10 years to get over it and eat lamb.
If they have big butts, doesn't that mean they're meat sheep? Vegetarian city girl here, so forgive me if that's the stupidest question ever.
When I was a child, we raised two orphaned baby lambs from a friend's farm and they were the cutest things ever. You know those cartoons where the lambs gambol about chasing butterflies? Well, ours really did that!
My sister and I got the privilege of bottle-feeding the babies which was a hoot because their tails literally revolved like helicopter rotors as they drank. Lambs are very enthusiastic drinkers; they could empty a bottle in no time flat.
The lambs thought they were just one of our dogs (of which we had five). They'd use the dog door to go in and out of the house and curl up to sleep beside a canine friend.
Our farmer friends promised us that the lambs would not turn into dinner and instead were used for breeding stock since both were female. Of course, I couldn't tell which sheep was which once the grown-up lambs rejoined the flock but I trusted our friends to keep their word and I still believe they did. (And you think you're the Queen of Denial, Barbara!)
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