How 'bout where I left off?
So I wake up in the morning after a slam dunk of a sleep. That little bed I have is a hit, let me tell ya. Sigrun is asking me to come downstairs. The weather isn't good, but "we're going to try to work" she tells me. I'm starting to realize that I can't even pretend that I'm not the biggest damn city slicker that these folks have ever seen. I stand in front of my closet in a quiet panic. Pick the right clothes. Pick the right clothes. Ummm.... What do modern day farmin' gals wear to shear sheep? Layers. That's a good start.
I bundle myself to the best of my abilities and head downstairs for another awkward meal at the table. I think that it was mostly me that was creating the awkwardness, as I have never farmed, been near sheep, or had to do these things combined with a group of farmers that don't speak english. I was so nervous I could barely hold my coffee cup to my mouth without slopping it everywhere. How on earth am I going to pull this off? Yikes!
So I get geared up and me and Sigrun head down in the truck. I hop out of the truck to find about six other people. Three other Icelandic sheep farmers and three of their grandchildren (none of whom speak english). Oh yes, and an enormous audience of sheep. They go at the sheep in packs of about 20 or so. 20 adults. The babies are sort of a package deal.
It's funny how stupid you can feel when you don't speak the same language as everyone else and you're learning to do something new. Especially, when you're the new kid on the block. I felt really strange and not very bright. There were a few moments that I felt like I might start to cry. I also started to fantasize about going home or at least back to reunite with my Snorris. I was at another cross roads. But Sigrun was by my side the entire time. I had told her the day before that our Icelandic teacher always said "Flott!" (excellent) when we had done something right and that it always made me feel very good. She must have remembered that, because she kept saying things like "you are sooo flott!". Those little words made me feel like I could dive in and just do my best. And so I did.....
and so the fun begins...
So, let me break this down for inquiring minds. I had nooooo idea what to expect. Personally, I had an image of sheep docilely standing while electric trimmers gave them the buzz cut of their dreams. I was a little surprised to find that it's not like that. They do have clippers, but that involves them all being in the barn or "sheep house" and that's a huge fiasco to coordinate. So the process is to wrangle one of these bad boys up, force him to the fence, and then tie their head/horns in such a way that they can't escape. Sounds like a slam dunk, right?
After accomplishing the near impossible, the real work begins. This is a picture of Gudmunder making the first cut. First, he assesses to make sure that the sheep feels healthy and is well built enough that removing it's wool won't risk illness for the critter. You do this by pulling up on the hide, to see if it feels loose like a baggy t-shirt or "Icelandc sweater", if you will. Then, he would start a cut from the rump area and up the back, seperating it into two pieces. From there, we would both 'go at it' with scissors that looked like you needed a tetanus shot just to hold them. It's a shearin' frenzy until you bring it on home...
Lather, rinse, repeat. Until they're all done. All of the guys in the pen anyway. Once you have both halves off, they get tossed into the wool "receptacle". Please see example A:
A few observations about clipping sheep:
-They do not like getting haircuts
-You can't count on them staying still
-They don't understand that the more they buck/ram their heads into the fence, the worse their new hairdo looks
-Shearing is harder than it looks
-There's a lot more poop attached to their wool than you might think
Ways that shearing sheep reminds me of nursing:
-There are always more sheep than farmers
-The noise is constant (replace bells with sheep noises)
-You can't avoid poop
-Sheep don't always appreciate the high quality care that they are getting
-Ergonomics is not a main focus of farming (I will never complain about the body mechanics at my work again)
Now the funny thing about shearing, is that it's not always a slam dunk. For example, some of them just can't be clipped. For others, they can only be half-clipped. We'll refer to these guys as the "hair dos" of the group. Some of them might just have their 'collar' or whatever trimmed off and the rest remains like some kind of crazy vest:
It looks like a cape or something. How bout another example.
Here's the sheep mullet:
Business in the body, party at the ass.
There's so many more fashionable sheep dos that are hot this season, but I couldn't get them all. I was trying not to look like the city slicker paparazzi on my first day on the job. You'll just have to trust me. My faves were the ones that looked like little wool shorts. Hahahaha. So funny.
I was shearing a lot with Gudmunder. He can't speak english at all, but was busting out these pretty good one liners after each sheep was finished. It was very impressive. Imagine an Icelandic farmer saying any of the following to a sheep as they give em a smack on the rump and send them on their way:
-Goodbye
-Thank-you
-Thank-you and Goodbye
-Goodbye my love
-Thank-you very much
-See you next time
We've also been into learning cheers. Skol is cheers in Icelandic. But Gudmunder wanted to know more, so we've been working on that. I've taught him cheers and salud, so he was using those to say good bye to the sheep as well. He's an ace.
Now, back to work....
Sometimes the sheep require manicures and pedicures so that they're 'trail ready'.
The strange thing is that this sheep pen is a damn fiasco of sheep frantically racing around. It's a mix between trying to organize themselves and not get too close to the hairstylists that surrounded them. A riot at it's finest, I'd say. So during the panic, babies obviously get split from their mums. The lambs actually sounds like they're calling "maaAAAAAAaam" and racing around. Some of them even try to get a bird's eye view:
Awwwww!! The baby!!!
But before the reuniting process can begin, the babies need to receive some antibiotics to make sure that they will stay healthy. This involves chasing these little rascals around the pen, snatching them up and them getting a dose of liquid medication from a little pump. After the baby receives a dose, it's marked with a sort-of green bingo dabber. This allows the farmers (and me) to know who has not been "processed", I guess.
Once all of the babies that are scrambling around have green dots on their head, its time for them to hit the ol' dusty trail out to the mountains. Before they can release these sheep out into the world with their new looks, they need to allow them to get organized and for the mums and babies to find each other. First, everybody gets let out of the barber shop:
Then they need to sort themselves out near the gate that leads them to their summer lodging. They're released in smaller family units out to the mountains. They can't go all at once or all of the work that they just did to get everybody figured out would have been for nothing. It's funny because once one or two families get through the gate, all of the other sheep want to try to bolt with them. All of the farmers yell at them and wave their canes in the air so that the sheep get spooked and run the other way. I couldn't help but notice that when people scream at sheep in Icelandic, it sounds an awful lot like german.
Then its time for them, one by one, to work that big ol catwalk back into the mountains. They're on the loose until the round up in September. See you little buddies! Don't do anything that I wouldn't do!
So what do I have to say for myself this time? Sheep farming taught me some lessons that are a little more on the practical side. I think that for starters, I learned that grabbing the "sheep" by the horns (a little farm humour) is the right plan of attack in shearing and in life. I couldn't help but notice, that the more I rolled up my sleeves and tried my best, the easier things were getting. That kind of attitude and action is something that's noticed by others. I think that it helped me to feel like I was part of the group, more than a new person on the periphery. I couldn't change the fact that I was a total city slicker. What I could control is that I was going to be the most balls-out sheep shearing city slicker that they'd ever seen. I was giving 110% every second that I was out there.
The other important lesson that I think I took away from this situation, is that being too sensitive is always a set back. Being an english speaking gal who had never worked a farm in a group of Icelandic farmers was definitely not an ideal educational situation. I didn't want that to stop me from getting a full experience. There were a few times when Sigrun, who is essentially my personal translator, wasn't around. I refused to let that stop me from putting my rubber boots back on and making things happen. At times, it was a little tough because if I was doing something wrong, I'd hear someone scream "SARAH!!!!!" and wave their arms up and down like crazy. OR scream "SARAH!!!!NO!!!!". Once you get past the initial embarrassment of the whatever mistake you've made, you get comfortable with this type of feedback. I started to realize that I take non-verbal feedback really personally and so I was getting a bit upset. Once I realized this about myself, I could finally relax a little. I just needed to loosen up and quit being so uptight.
So, I'll sign off for now. I'm sure I'll have many more adventures to tell you about soon. All the sheep are in the mountain right now gettin fat and wooly. I keep asking what other work there is to do around the ol' sheep mill when they're not here. The only I get is "yes". I've given up on the question at this point. I'll just keep taking things one sheep farm day at a time.
Good night sheep.
Good night farm.
Good night moon.
Good night snorris.
Good night family.
Good night friends.
With much love,
Sarah
Sarah's Additional Viking Rules:
-Stay still for haircuts
-When cutting wood: measure twice, cut once
-When shearing sheep: Measure once, cut fast
-Get in where you fit in
-Always grab sheep (and life) by the horns
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