Angie: November 2008 Archives
We dispatch and process our turkey the weekend before Thanksgiving. This year I chose broad breasted bronze's and grew them up from eggs to the beauties they are now.
On the ground we figured they were about 30 pounds or so for the largest ones.
All of those feathers make them look a lot bigger than they really are.
Or do they?
Dressed these birds are weighing in at over 40lbs. My scale won't go as high as it needs to weigh them accurately.
Thursdays centerpiece is a beauty.
It is in a 60 quart igloo cube cooler brining in sugar and salt and ice water.
Wednesday he will come out and be soaked in pure clean water. Later he will be brought up to room teperature in anticipation of the oven.
I took the kids to supper at this little family style restaurant.
It has a salad bar, hot vegetable bar and you order your main entree from your waitress.
I am at the salad bar picking through for best pieces of romain lettuce, choosing nice tomatoes, cucumber, garden peas, kidney beans, shredded carrot, pickled beets and suddenly there is the woman right under me. I mean I could feel her breath on me. She was literally pushing me along. Any minute I expected to see her hand reach around me and under my plate to grab something.
She was with a man which I presume was her husband and the whole while she talking ninety miles an hour.
This is the convo -
"They don't have real bacon for bacon bits," says she.
"They don't?", says he.
"No. No real bacon bits." says she.
Long pause.
"You forgot to bring your own bottle, didn't you?" says she to he.
Is this for real?
Do people go to restaurants these days and bring along their own condiments and bacon bits?
How many people walk into a full service restaurant with a bottle of bacon bits in their pocket.
Have you ever done anything like this?
Do not count when you take different food in to a restaurant for a child. That is a bird of a different color.
I am talking about a full grown man and his bottle of 'real' bacon bits.
What is up with that?
I accomplished, learned and taught myself many things this past spring, summer and fall.
I have learned that ram lambs have their name for reason. I learned that ram lambs grow up to become sheep rams. I also learned they are a force to be reconed with if you start out blind and raise them like other animals on your tiny farm.
Lambert (nearest Steve in the above photo) was more friendly than Maybelline (her eyes look like she is wearing eye liner) or Petuna (pink rimmed eyes). He didn't want to be handled at first but he came around when he realized that people meant food and my red bucket meant cracked corn. One of the biggest mistakes made was Steve petting him and scratching between his ears - and I am certain he must have touched his face where his musk glands are located. Which is a big no - no.
Lambert soon decided that Steve was just another ewe in different sheep clothing. He also decided that Steve must be put in his place with the other ewes and made to be obedient to his ram lamb ways.
This created odd situations that began to escalate as Lambert grew from a three month old lamb into an almost nine month old lamb ram.
When we did the barn chores I often stood back and kept Lambert occupied while Steve exited the feild. If I didn't Lambert would make a springing leaping run at Steve from behind and rear up and try to head butt him. One more than one occassion Steve could have been seriously hurt.
Which it wasn't fair to Steve but, honestly, the ram never did anything to me. The more the ram antagonized Steve the more Steve want to break a board over his head. More than once Steve had to fight his way out of the field. At times I found it comical but it really wasn't. In the real world of sheep and rams it was escalating into a dangerous situation for Steve and for Lambert.
Initialy, Lambert began to nudge and headbutt Steve for attention. These buttings became more aggressive, more frequent and more dangerous. Not only for Steve but the children, especially Steven, who had to be supervised at all times in the feild or the barn. Steven and Gracie had to stay on the tractor and couldn't get down to run and play in the field. While in the barn I had to keep my ears and eyes peeled to make sure the ram wasn't charging from the opposite end of the field.
When we went out on the tractor Lambert would ram the tractor - each time with more and more force. He put a big dent in the side of the little red farm truck. He hit Steve one evening off guard and damaged his cell phone. He would follow Steve to the pasture gate and ram the gate. He would rear up on his hind legs and hit the gate as if to say, "I'm gonna get you, boy."
This behavior I felt was never malicious. Yes, he was aggressive, but he wasn't mean. He was just being a ram. He never did this to me. I think he learned early on I wouldn't tolerate his behavior and never reared or tried to ram me. He never really had an interest in Colby either although he would at times make a charge for her when her back was turned but when she stopped and faced him he backed down. He also like to butt for food. He would slam the door of the feed room as if to make you hurry with his share.
And so with his increasing size, increasing aggressiveness, his increasing torment of Steve, Lambert met his fate sooner than I had hoped.
Yesterday, with Colby's help, I processed Lambert. I did it. I felt it was my duty to give him a good death and to honor his life. I brought him to this place. I gave him a good life. In the end I tried my best to give him a good death. Taking a life is never easy.
His hide will be sent to the tanners. I took it off in one clean piece. We rolled it up tight, wrapped it in freezer paper, tied it inside a thick plastic bag and put it in the freezer.
Stretched out as you see in the above photo his wool coat is nearly 4 feet in length. He will be tanned soft as butter and will be used at the foot of the bed for keeping cold feet warm on freezing winter nights.
His meat has been prepared and is in my freezer. I did not weigh it but we ended up with over one hundred pounds of lamb at the minimum.
Perhaps in February or March his legacy will live on. A ram lamb and two ewes in the same field should mean those ewes will lamb come spring. He was a very active young man, feeling his oats often.Pehaps nature will smile kindly on us and show us the circle of life and Lambert and his legacy will live on.
I sure hope so.
