Before butchering hogs, you first need to scald their carcass in water so that you can scrape the bristles off of their hide. At the farm, we use an ancient steam engine to heat the water.
Then a team of men get to work scraping the hair from the animal. It’s not pretty or pleasant for modern sensabilities. How easy it is to buy our food from the market and have no real idea of how it got there.
Some of the ewes at the farm had twins and that means a few extra lambs that were not getting fed by their mothers. That’s where a team of workers stepped in with their giant bottles of milk and hand fed them until they were old enough to eat on their own. As you can see, Charley has taken to a few of them. Or is it the other way around? Either way, there is plenty of affection going around.
It’s the first time that I’ve seen lambs act like dogs.
Here are more images of sheep to get you through the weekend.
Typical of late fall weather here in Ohio, we’ve had plenty of rain. Slow falling, drizzle, the kind that seeps into your bones. The kind that creates lots of mud.
The animals don’t seem to mind at all. And so, I suppose that I shouldn’t be bothered by the weather either. But, I am. As a photographer, I like the textures and saturated colors that come out in the rain. As a human being, and one in his fifties at that, I have begun to enjoy my creature comforts too much to fully embrace cold wet weather. I am not after all, a pig. Though some might say otherwise.
Friday afternoon, I spent some time relaxing at the farm. Carriage Hill is serene and tranquil on most days. A place to wander, explore, and visit with friends. One of the rare exceptions to the quiet on the farm is when the summer thunderstorms roll through, throwing lightning in all directions and booming in loud echoes.
Not long after arriving, I wandered down to check on the horses. That’s when drops began to fall and within moments, the sky opened up and the deluge began in earnest.
Soon, the rain was everywhere. Drops bounced off the fences and dripped from the roof lines. The water collected in pools and ran in rivulets through the barnyard.
Unfortunately for the horses, they were stuck in the downpour. There is an overhang on the back side of the barn and though they found some protection, their rear ends were soaked. Poor Jimmy and Charley had to endure the full force of the storm. because there was no room for them.
Thirty minutes passed before the thunder storm moved on and left the farm transformed by the wetness. I like the residue of the storm…wonderful light and dark wet wood and brick.
And while it’s nice to see the drops on the flowers, the sheep probably don’t appreciate being soaked with heavy wet wool.
That was the excitement on my Friday afternoon. How did I fare? Not badly at all. I found the shelter of the well’s pump shed and rode out the rain.
Have a great week, folks.
Do you remember tracing pictures onto paper when you were a kid? I would take the original and lay a fresh sheet of paper over it and then run to the window. The brightly lit glass was the closest thing I had too a light box. Pencil in hand, I would outline the drawing until I had a near perfect copy. That’s when the crayons came into play. On the table, I would fill in the tracing with color until I was sure I had yet another masterpiece on my hands. That’s when my finished art work would go to the refrigerator to be held in place by a banana magnet…the sure sign of success.
Seeing Jen tracing a drawing using the very same method brought back a lot of wonderful memories for me. Thanks Jen.
Have a wonderful Sunday, folks!