My friend, N. grew up on a sheep farm. I met N. while in college through a friend. Eventually, he infiltrated my group of friends and lived next door to me in one of the dorms. For those of us in college who grew up in suburbia, we were fascinated with the sheep farm. It was almost mythical. Plucking chickens? Using baby monitors to listen for sheep going into labor in the middle of the night? We enjoyed stories of the farm and N. happily obliged us with tales of his farm experiences. He was proud of his farm upbringing. In fact, his college entrance essay was entitled, “My First Sheep.”
So, naturally, when N. invited D., C., and I to visit the farm during lambing season, we jumped at the chance. No, we didn’t know what lambing season was… but it sounded neat and we imagined liking lambs. So, off we went. (Learning Moment #1: Lambing season on N.’s farm takes place annually in the late-winter/early-spring. All the baby lambs for the year are born during this period. They are usually born as twins, but sometimes triplets or single lambs.) D. and I were prepared with a list of names for the new babies. We wanted to be honorary aunties.
On the farm there’s a barn, hayloft, some chickens, a donkey, and oodles of sheep. (Learning Moment #2: Connie the Donkey is used as a guard donkey. Her loud braying scares away coyotes and other predators.) Our trip to the farm lived up to our expectations. We saw gooey, little lambs born only an hour before our arrival. N. gave us a sheep shearing demonstration, as well as a tutorial regarding why chickens are more idiotic than sheep. We learned to use special soap to get off the oil on our hands that we got after petting all the sheep. We ate lamb for dinner. Circle of Life and all that.
After college, I didn’t really think I would return to the farm. However, fast forward to 2010, and D. and I were once again treading on the farm’s grounds. Why? Farm Party 2010.
N. developed Farm Party four years ago. Each year, N.’s parents go away for a weekend and give him run of the property. The event started as a relatively small gathering and involved tours of the farm and a campfire. However, over the years the event has grown in popularity and developed into a more elaborate affair. D. and I had heard enough about it that we were curious. However, when my husband heard about the event, he demanded to know why we hadn’t gone in all the previous years- it sounded just that amazing. So, that was that. We resolved to attend this year’s Farm Party. This year’s theme? “Sheepin’ it Real.”
We dressed up in all sorts of farm glory- cowboy boots, red checkered shirts, cowboy hats, star-shaped belt buckles, and John Deere caps. For good measure, D. and I put out hair into pigtails. We’re adults, we promise.
The afternoon was amazing. We arrived and helped to prep oodles of fruit for fruit salad or move bales of hay. When the events finally kicked off, N. and his sister has a sheep shearing race. The competition was theoretically based on time and quality. However, when it was time for a public vote, it was clear that most of N.’s friends were not going to vote for him based on principle alone. Plus, seeing his sister take down the giant sheep she sheared was kind of amazing.His sister has won every year that they have done this competition. And rightly so.
Next, there was the beverage scavenger hunt. Teams pre-registered and brought 12 cans/bottles of their beverage. Then as the contestants were brought on a hayride, the hiding committee took their drinks and hid them around the farm. The first team to find and drink all of their beverages was declared the winner. At this point, I planned on being part of the hiding committee based on my ability to squirrel things away efficiently. Yet, this was not meant to be. Instead, I was trying not to pass out. (Learning Moment #3: Don’t let the excitement for being on a farm allow you to ignore your need for liquids and ventilation. Dehydration and heat stroke can lead to blurry vision and fuzzy hearing. It’s disconcerting and bad.)
After recovering from my episode and watching people scurry around the farm, we watched some boys shoot off the potato guns they had made the previous day. Some friends went out into the field with baseball mitts and attempted to catch the flying bits of potato. They were not particularly successful. Some people chose to take part in the Redneck Slip ‘n Slide. This was accomplished by lying down tarps and covering them with water and baby shampoo. People seemed to be enjoying themselves, getting covered in suds and grass blades.
Finally it was time to eat. There was a 150 lb. pig roasting in the front yard. And it was delicious. I’m a big fan of the pig roast.
Naturally, C. made it his job to make friends with all the critters on the farm. He happily patted the sheep, conversed with the donkey and fed it some watermelon, and picked up chickens like it was his job. (And the chicken, The Lone Ranger, would not let just anyone pick it up. The Lone Ranger got it’s name based on the fact that it’s the only chicken that smart enough to figure out how to escape its coop. It wanders around the farm all day doing it’s own thing. Yet, at the end of the night it will find a human and sit in front of it, expecting to be brought back to the safety of the coop. It will then escape again the next day.) Throughout the afternoon C. kept exclaiming, “I just belong on a farm!” He felt right at home.
Moral of the story, Farm Party was great fun. It’s no wonder that N. looks forward to Farm Party in the way that most other people look forward to Christmas. It brings him such joy to have all his friends in one place, enjoying the place that he loves. He was a great host. In all likelihood, he is probably already planning for Farm Party 2011. C., D., and I are tentatively planning too. Want to join us?
It was so fun to read the re-cap!
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