Black sheep, black sheep, what #@$% happened to you?

Remember how I impressed you last week with a hideous naked sheep picture...did you really think I would allow shearing day to come and go with out a blow by account of the whole thing?  Sorry, no such luck for you!

My absolutely faithful and loyal readers (which may only be my husband...) may recall how last year we here at Settlers Farm were determined to shear the little buggers ourselves.  After all, who would want to pay a hefty $5 (!?!) a head when you have two able-bodied adults to sling sheep and numerous children capable of running about like border collies?  Armed with my thrifty ebay sheep shearers, we cornered the first sheep (I think it was poor Violet).  I squeezed a rope halter (upside down, the poor thing) over her face as the Absent-minded Prof readied the shearers ...which look like dog clippers on steroids... and are completely capable of slicing off an ear (both your's and the sheep's with one good blow). 

They didn't work.

Not to be thwarted...we did what any sensible Insteader (translation: homesteader wannabe) would do.

We got out the sewing scissors...

This is about three hours per sheep later.  The coats are to hide their shame...

This year we found Danny...

And we are NEVER, ever, letting him go...

This poor man spends all his working hours bent in half.  And he wields those massive shearers with the finesse of a gun-slinger from an old western.  Each sheep took him 15 minutes...maybe.

And the results look like this...

I love him.

The Absent-minded Prof took this picture to prove I don't need a skirting table.

I think it proves exactly the opposite.  Thankfully I thought ahead and wore a long shirt to prevent skirter's butt.

This is what happens when you look like a woolly pig...but act like a woolly grasshopper...

Sad, but just imagine what he would look like if I had to attack him with the fiskars.

Here they are, naked and so proud of their contribution to my fiber insanity...

Okay, maybe they are just begging for cookies. 

You know how the goats spend their days hogging the hay and slamming into the poor sheep with those stupid horns?

Karma baby, karma...

Comments

[Laura]

I want to be a sheep shearer. It's just the naughty ones I think I might not be able to handle. heh

[rechelle]

I find this particular post fascinating like in a horror movie sort of way.