I am back at Whitefish Bay Farm. Very few probably knew that I was gone. There were some exceptions: a few neighbors who did not see me doing chores; the sheep who were totally dependent upon Gretchen for pasture and food in the barn; Pussa, who lacked a breakfast companion and a lap upon which to sit; and Gretchen who had to deliver me to the airport and subsequently fetch me there. For the rest who did not know of my absence, I was in Denmark. As has become my custom, I travel to Denmark every other year. The trip constitutes my major vacation and only significant time away from the farm. It is an opportunity to visit friends and adoptive family. It is also my only chance to listen to and speak Danish. In a sense, it is like going to language camp. During the first few days there, my ears are not well tuned to the language and my mind does not want to function, except in English, consciously translating individual words here and there. That is an especially frustrating time, knowing that much of the language is locked somewhere in my head but the keys have been misplaced. Before the end of the twelve days I know that I am again thinking “på dansk”, albeit in a much simpler mode than years gone by.
When I left the farm, conditions were extremely dry. Pastures were turning brown and our gardens cried out for more watering. With the exception of Pasture #3 the sheep had grazed every other pasture that we could get them to and none of those pastures had regrown at all. In short, we were rapidly running out of fresh green food for the sheep. We had six large square bales of hay left over from the previous year. I set up the bales so that the sheep could feed upon them three at a time. Past experience taught us that three bales would last from three to four days. Once all six bales were consumed the flock would begin rotating through Pasture #3. The responsibility for assessing hay supplies, moving fences and feeding the sheep at night were totally Gretchen’s.
The contrast in Denmark was startling. The country had already experienced the second wettest summer ever recorded and the rain was continuing into the fall and my vacation. The words wet, green and lush best described what I found there. If you wished to grow mushrooms or snails, conditions were ideal. If you wish to combine grain crops or mow grass, conditions were a quagmire.
As I tend to do, I kept my eyes open for flocks of sheep. What I saw was that life was often not very pleasant for lots of extremely wet sheep.
At least toward the end of my travels the sun decided to come out for a few days. It permitted me to spend a day hiking the caulk cliffs of Møns Klint and another full day looking at and learning about the beautiful ships at the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde. Much of the rest of my time in Denmark was spent dressed in rain gear outside or in drier conditions indoors, primarily in museums. Early in the trip I was extremely pleased to discover that a very dear friend from many years past had an exhibition of natural dying of wool and silk using wild mushrooms (Svampfarvning) at the Silkeborg Museum. The colors she achieves are breathtaking. If you happen to be in Silkeborg now and into early October, it is exciting to experience Kirsten Kielmann’s exhibit.
Kirsten's mushroom dyed yarn
Scarves from Kirsten's mushroom dyed yarn
Communication has changed so dramatically since I lived in Denmark in 1965-66. At that time, it took ten days for a letter to get from Denmark to the US. Phone calls could only be made by scheduling them a day or two ahead of time. Now with a cellphone I am able to talk with Gretchen every day that I am in Denmark. It was because of that communication that I was pleased to learn that after I had been gone a week that it began to rain here at home. In eight days we received over 4 inches of much needed moisture! Before the rain began, Gretchen and a friend, Sandy, spent a couple of intense days dying lots of wool yarn. They lacked Kirsten’s mushrooms, but instead got wonderful results using amaranth, madder, marigold blossoms, indigo and birch bark.
Gretchen's natural dyed yarn
I have been home now long enough that the effects of traveling for nearly 24 hours are finally wearing off. It is wonderful to see how green things have become here. The contrast with many of the trees that are already turning to their fall colors is dramatic. I already miss my family and friends in my adoptive home, but it is extremely good to be back to my real home with the flock, Pussa and especially Gretchen.
Besides harvesting the vegetables, we also picked nearly all the marigold blossoms and sorted them into three different shades. The dye pot and dyer have since been busy. The result has been a growing collection of lovely shades of dark to light yellow skeins of yarn. It is also artichoke season; every meal of artichokes also produces enough dye stuff for a skein of light green yarn.
From a farming standpoint, the warmth and moisture has presented us with the ultimate challenge of trying to cut and bale quality hay for the sheep for this winter. We have only miss-guessed once and had newly cut hay heavily rained on. Luckily it was not too much hay. Nonetheless it baled into about 65 bales of nutritionless bedding instead of lush, green hay. We usually need three straight days of dry weather to get the hay cut, cured and baled (although we have managed a few successful two day “windows”). Our greatest problem has been getting Mother Nature to allow us those three straight days with any frequency. We have been cautious and have not had the cut hay rained on too much, but our caution has slowed the entire process down excessively. Some of our caution has also been based upon the fields often being too wet to support our tractors and equipment without leaving significant ruts across the field.
The sheep are belly-deep in lush green pasture while just beyond the fence are some of our hay wagons partially full of hay in the main hay field with yet more hay to be cut.
Inland in the woods, just a few feet from the shoreline is further testimony to how damp it has been. Everywhere seems to be mushroom heaven.
If we cannot be outside working at least there things to be done with wool. Gretchen’s naturally hand-dyed yarn does eventually find its way into finished products. The warp of the nearly complete shawl is a mix of natural white and gray yarn dyed with mullein leaves, buckthorn berries, and eucalyptus leaves. The weft is undyed white. Of course, it is a given that all the yarn is made from the wool of our sheep.
We continue to slog onward. Perhaps when I get around to returning to the Ewe Turn we may even be done with haying!
In addition we continued with our dye project with the cosmos flowers from the garden. It is truly amazing the lovely yellow color they produce considering the intense red and violet shades of their flowers.
Of late we have been able to visually experience “reds” that one can never expect to reproduce with a natural dye. As I was attempting to bale hay between rain storms last week I noticed what appeared from a distance to be a red survey stake in the 20+ acres of woods just west of our large hay field. I thought it strange that someone would be placing a stake in the woods because: 1) it is our land and no one had contacted me about it, and 2) the woods is a wetland, primarily an semi-open ash and cedar swamp much of the year. I promised that once the hay was baled I would return to investigate this intrusion into our domain. When I returned I discovered 
that the “marking stake” was actually one of many Cardinal-Flowers (Lobelai cardinalis) in bloom. For our area it is a relatively rare flower which blooms in late summer usually along the edge of dry seasonal creeks, one of which borders our woods. I am used to seeing their blooms along the creek, but this was the first time I have seem them in the middle of our woods. Once I slogged my way deeper into the woods I discovered that the flowers appeared to be everywhere where the deepest pool of water stood in early spring. If there ever was a sign of Sensommer, this was it!
