Day 344: I came into the Fair through the Green Gate as I usually do when I'm working at the Park's booth, and the first sound to greet me was a lengthy and distressed "Baaaaaaaaa!" from the new Agricultural Arena. I quickly diverged from my planned line toward the Piglet Palace and discovered handful of black sheep being judged. The complex next door was filled with all sorts of bleating voices, making me glad I'd gone in early. Yes! Apparently the main "sheep show" had been saved for the last days of the Fair!
I do miss having sheep, although I'm wise enough not to go down that path again for a variety of reasons. That said, looking at all these fine animals (wool and meat breeds both) made me long for the days when I ran Romney-Suffolk crosses. The cross gave me the best of both worlds. I like mutton stew and "lamb-burger," so I'd raise my flock long enough to get two shearings and a new crop of lambs before turning the older sheep into freezer fare. I wasn't raising them for profit, but one year I ran the numbers and figured out that I was breaking even, the expenses of food and shearing balanced out against what I got in terms of fleeces sold to Pendleton Mills and local weaving shops, and meat for my table.
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