The one that nearly got away

Wool sacks filled with fleece and in the background the shorn sheep

The rain has finally stopped and I have been out shearing.  The first day I did three Southdowns, the second day I did five Southdowns and the third day I managed six Southdowns.  Then over the weekend I broke the ten barrier, shearing 12 Mules in one day.  These are tiny numbers compared to professional shearers but it’s my personal battle and each time I do more I get a real buzz.

The advantage of Southdowns is they are quite small sheep so I found them easy enough to turn and get out of the pen now that I am getting fitter – I wouldn’t have found it easy a few weeks ago!  The disadvantage is they have wool growing in every conceivable nook and cranny.  These Southdowns were short and chubby, little barrels on legs.  Fat sheep are easier to shear, there are less lumps and bumps.  You can read more about shearing Southdowns here.  

While moving the Southdowns I put my hand on a ram’s back to push him, as I did so there was a terrible sound of crunching bones.  My stomach turned over.  ‘I’ve broken his spine.’  I thought, which was crazy because I hadn’t pushed him very hard.  ‘What was that?’  I asked.  ‘His teeth.’  The shearer said.  His teeth?  The sound came again, I could see the ram was grinding his teeth.  He must have happened to grind them just as I pushed him.  

When we switched to shearing North of England Mules the sheep felt completely different.  Mules are tall elegant sheep with long bodies, long necks and long legs, unlike the short necked Southdowns.  

A North of England Mule ewe

The squat Southdowns always felt stiff between my legs and when sat up they tended to keep their heads up.  The Mules felt much more floppy and hung their heads when sat up.  Except for one sheep whose head was hanging down relaxed then she suddenly threw her head in the air and smacked me in the face – ouch.

When I had the Southdowns sat between my legs their shoulders came to my knees but the Mules seemed to fill the space between my legs so I felt that if the sheep pushed against me I would take off.  The Mules were also more bony, their hip bones protruded and on some the back bone was prominent.  This meant I was shearing up and down hill, trying not to leave wool in the hollows.  The sheep weren’t in bad condition, it’s just different breeds have different body shapes and these sheep were still feeding their lambs so they were on the slim side.

At the Mule job I started using a Warrie Back Aid.  You can see the Back Aid in this picture.  Isn’t it a beautiful setting?  

I haven’t used one before as I thought it was another piece of equipment to master and I had enough to think about.  However the Back Aid didn’t get in my way or restrict me at all as I had feared.  A Back Aid is a gadget which takes some of your weight while you are bent over shearing, it eases the strain on the back.  The Back Aid is basically a wide sheep skin strap suspended on springs, the springs allow plenty of flexibility, as I found out.  Unfortunately, the chestbelt sits across the chest under the arms, for me that means right across the bosom.  I thought this would be uncomfortable but actually it wasn’t and I found the chest belt tended to work its way down below my bust.

At first  I felt as though the Back Aid was pulling me up and I was fighting it to get down to the sheep’s tail.  There are three springs so I disconnected one then it didn’t pull me as much.  As the day went on, I put the Back Aid through an unexpected tough test.

I went into the pen for a sheep and they were all massive.  ‘Oh well,’ I thought, ‘I’ll just have to manage.’  I got the sheep out of the pen onto the shearing board and everyone was ribbing me, shouting, ‘Couldn’t you have found a bigger one?’  ‘Have you been putting your ewes to a stallion?’  I countered.  Fortunately, the sheep relaxed and didn’t struggle.  ‘We’re going to get along just fine.’  I thought.  I did the belly and the first leg and stepped up the neck. 

I think perhaps part of the problem was I hadn’t allowed for the Mule’s long legs, she got her front feet down on the board and that was it.  She pushed up under me, the springs of the Back Aid contracted and I went up in the air.  We were working in a large field so if the sheep escaped half shorn it would mean an exhausting chase round the field in the heat.  Much less stress for the sheep and less hassle for us to hang on to her.  So hang on I did.  But I was completely at the ewe’s mercy, unable to get my feet down properly.  We shot across my board onto the next shearer’s board, cannoned into him and his sheep, I had a nanosecond to hope his handpiece didn’t cut me and to shout an apology as we bounced off and continued onto the tarpaulin where the fleeces were being rolled.  I was squealing the whole way and yelled extra loudly as I felt myself falling.  I think the sheep must have slipped on the tarpaulin, we fell together in a heap.  As we went down the sheep’s head hit me in the face and I bit my tongue.  

I lay looking up at the sky and saw to my horror the springs of my Back Aid impossibly stretched out. Bother!  I’d forgotten I was still in the Back Aid but I couldn’t have got out of it without letting go of the sheep.  I was terrified the springs would snap and injure somebody.  Amazingly, they held.  I was a long way from my workstation.  Another shearer came to my rescue and with a struggle we got the sheep back to the shearing board where I finished shearing her with no further adventures.  Well done Warrie for making a Back Aid robust enough to cope with the mistakes of an idiot amateur! 

  Gathering up the sheep for shearing

My First Sheep of the Season

I sheared my first sheep of the season at the weekend.  She was a Suffolk Mule and she sheared beautifully.   I was proud of myself as I managed the whole operation without any help or anyone on standby, I turned her, dragged her out of the pen and sheared her without letting her go.  For my first sheep of the year I’m very pleased.  She went off looking reasonably tidy and without a single nick.  Here she is:

While shearing her I did learn the importance of a good grip on the floor.  I have got a new pair of moccasins, moccasins are especially made for sheep shearing, mine are made from felt, they keep your feet cool and they give you good grip on the shearing board.  Or they’re supposed to.  As you wear them sheep grease gradually builds up in the sole of the moccasins, new moccasins don’t have that grease, I was also working on a new shearing board.  With use the shearing board becomes soaked in lanolin, the combination of lanolin in your mocs and lanolin in the shearing board helps stick your feet to the boards.  It doesn’t feel sticky but your feet stay where you put them.  

A new shearing board and new mocs were a terrible combination, as the sheep’s weight rested on my legs my feet slid away across the boards and I had to keep adjusting my position and that of the sheep.  It was a huge strain on my muscles and my legs felt a bit shaky by the time I finished the sheep. 

There were some Southdowns among the flock and I was keen to try one.  Shearing a Southdown is like shearing two or three normal sheep.  There’s so much wool on them.  

I’ve seen plenty of Southdowns shorn but watching and doing are two completely different things.  Southdowns wear socks and they are a bit ticklish about having them removed, trying to shear sheep’s legs was scary, I was afraid of cutting the sheep, then shearing the back legs I suddenly realised the ewe’s teat was very close to the shears, that gave me a moment of panic.  The shears will easily take off a teat and a sheep with damaged teats is of no use to a farmer because she can’t raise her lambs.  It only takes a second to ruin a sheep during shearing.  The wool on the underside of the sheep hung in tags so saturated with hardened lanolin they looked a bit like toffee stalactites.  I needed to push hard on the handpiece to drive it through the toffee but I couldn’t afford to let the handpiece go too far and chop off a teat or a bit of vulva.  I spent so long on the underside of the sheep my back really started to ache.  On a normal sheep you spend less time in the same position which helps ease your muscles.

 

Even more terrifying than shearing the sheep’s legs and bottom was removing the face wool.  Southdowns grow wool on the backs of their ears, their cheeks and right around their eyes.  You can see my moccasins in the background. 

 

Some Southdowns have more facial wool than others, some can hardly see where they are going.

My sheep decided to keep her eyes open.  As I was running the wide comb over her face this huge yellow eye was staring at me.   I had images in my mind of that eye skewered on the teeth of the comb.  I can tell you now a bomb could have dropped beside me and I wouldn’t have noticed, I was concentrating that hard.  I didn’t do a very neat job, I left quite a few tufts on but my sheep walked away unharmed, I’d rather leave some wool on than cut her face to bits.  I’ve seen a Southdown lose the side of her ear, it’s easily done.

Here’s the Southdown I sheared:

 

She looks a bit tufty!

I did four sheep, two Southdowns and two Suffolk mules.  To put things in perspective, a professional shearer will shear in excess of 200 sheep per day.  But I’m not a professional shearer and I’m happy with my four.  That was enough for me.