Tag Archives: dogs

Farmhouses, Critters, & Hurricanes

After hurricane, sheep eating debris.
After-hurricane clean-up: more stuff to eat.
  The recent storm gave an opportunity to accustom the sheep to staying in a more secure, but unfamiliar, shelter: under the house. Remembering their #1 rule: "Eat! ALOT!" (YarnTalk, chapter 3), I filled the white bucket with grain and they followed me single file to the house. Raising the lattice, we ducked under the porch floor and I set down a large trashcan lid as a tray and dumped in the grain. They gathered 'round, easily fitting under the 4-foot-high porch floor. Sheep like low roofs. I guess that's why sheep "folds" or "cotes" are built small. They feel more secure when all bunched together. But my efforts were in vain. They ate their fill and pushed their way past the lattice and out again to graze. They don't feel the rain
unless it's hard on their faces. Wool insulates them against everything: rain, wind, heat,cold. 

   Not like fur. During the storm, the dogs were also in and out, tracking water all over the floor. Their fur was always dripping. They were more curious about the storm and just wanted to make their rounds and check again. And again. The house is built for storms. When designing it, I was fascinated with old-style plans that accomodated the South's heat and humidity. Plans like breezeways, low eaves and wide overhangs, airy cupolas, and a whole-house fan. Windows,doors, and dogdoors are open almost year-round, allowing breezes (ok, winds) to blow through during the hot months. The dogs take advantage of this.
   It occurred to me I was mirroring my hurricane chapter in the book (YarnTalk, chapter 8). In the story, however, the sheep stayed put, even exploring, knocking about, or dragging around everything under the house: fallen insulation, tangled wiring, plumbing, stacks of pottery and garden tools. When the power cut out and the light dimmed, I switched my attention to crafts that didn't require electricity. I could hear them below the floor and they could hear me above, pounding away on the loom. Since storm gusts were not so severe, it was actually relaxing. Our mutual sounds kept us in touch with each other while outside, beyond the porch walls, the trees danced with the wind.
  YarnTalk is a work in progress, following the adventures of Ivy, the lamb, as she tries to learn about making a shawl. Occasional updates and excerpts are posted here.