When I was in my 20s anytime we would drive past a sheep
farm I would squeal, "Sheeeeeeeepppp!" and press my face to the car
window. Pete would just shake his head looking sensible and wearing a "tsk, tsk"
expression. (Or alternately the "Come-on-baby-you-can't-be-serious" face.)
It wasn't time.
But there was something I knew, too: that someday it would be time.
But oh, how I wanted them. Right then. Right away. How could I possibly wait?
That was almost 20 years ago.
local friend heard I was getting sheep and asked me why. "Cattle are so
much easier. If you need meat there are better ways to get it than by
keeping sheep. I mean, I know they give wool and all but really. You
don't want sheep."
Actually, I do. I really really do.
Cattle? No thanks. No cows for me. Not now anyway.
Looking back to this decades-long desire, I'm not sure what the appeal was originally. It wasn't practical, I'll tell you that. (Seeing that I was a non-knitting vegetarian at the time.)
It must have been their peaceful, gentle beauty. Because really, that's just about enough.
And now I'm almost 40. It's been almost half of my life since I fell in love with sheep.
And for my 40th birthday present next month I'm buying myself sheep. My first ever small flock of sheep.
And this time Pete is on board.
Oh my goodness. These sheep. They have run off with my heart, that much I know.
We're starting with just two ewes and their babies, plus two other ewes without young. Most are coming from our friend Kathryn who happens to own our fabulous local yarn shop.
The ewes and their lambs that will come home with us are pictured below.
And now when I squeal "Sheeeeeep!" as we pass by a farm, Pete just smiles and shakes his head a little. Not because it isn't time, but more because I'm a dork.
Because yes. Finally - it is time.