April 1, 2021
Our first lamb of the season was born this week. A very healthy, sturdy and friendly ram, whom we promptly named “Ulysses”. He seems happy to explore and meet the flock, and doesn't take it personally when they flatten him for being overly friendly. He is self assured and doesn't put up much of a fuss when we hold him- which is a good thing because we have 193 kids coming to meet him, during a socially distanced and hopefully well orchestrated field trip, next week.....
When we weren't standing around admiring Ulysses we planted hundreds of willow whips along our fence lines. Hopefully the little saplings will thrive, grow fast, fill in and and when they get to be about four feet tall we will pollard them, and feed the tops to the sheep. George Washington was a strong proponent of “living fences”, writing in his diary
“ indeed I know of nothing that will so effectually, and at so small an expence, preserve what is within the Inclosure, as this plant.”
He built his living fence out of Honey Locust, but Willow trees are better suited for our property, and the sheep prefer the leaves. Living Fences are common in other countries, but for some reason, the idea never caught on here. I'm sure we'll discover why, somewhere along the way!
We also planted dozens of pine trees and strategically planted tufts of clumping bamboo along our property line.
(my father just turned over in his grave)
In my defense; “clumping” bamboo is less invasive than “running” bamboo, stays green all winter and if it ever gets unruly, the pigs will happily rein it in.
My father did not approve of any plant that was not a true native, and he would have been horrified at the idea of me planting bamboo (be it running, clumping or even deceased). He, however, never had to deal with the apocalyptic, ever encroaching, and highly invasive property developers who seem to be bearing down on us on all sides.
I can't do anything to stop them - but I am very good at planting trees. In fact when I heard that one particularly pernicious developer was in jail for something unrelated, I immediately hopped the disputed property line and planted trees, lots and lots of trees. I think that action in itself just might qualify me as a genuine “Yankee Farmer”, and I am certain that both George Washington and my father smiled down upon me that day...
The developer is long gone, Anne and I were granted an easement and the trees are doing quite well, so as the old saying probably should have said “ all's well that grows well, and fills in, in the end.”