cull  (kl)

tr.v. culled, cull·ing, culls

1. To pick out from others; select.

2. To gather; collect.

3. To remove rejected members or parts from (a herd, for example)

It's time to cull the flock. The new ones have been born and I only have so much room.

I first cull the trouble makers. The ones that hop the fence. The ones that don't follow a grain bucket.
Then I cull the ones who weren't successful. I keep sheep for lambs and if they don't lamb successfully, they have to go. Or if they have a lamb and it dies. I am about to cull my leader sheep who I have had the longest as she was barren for 2 years, had one successful lamb last year, and lost her one lamb this year. Her personality isn't great enough for me to keep her as a pet.

Then it gets a little hazy at to who I keep next. This is how cows came to look the way they do, or the selective breeding of dogs. The traits we like, we breed. This is how commercial sheep growers are the biggest, fastest eating machines. They cull the smaller ones and keep the ones that get big, fast.
I usually have to wrestle my sheep myself so about 200lbs is the highest I go. Sitting on a sheep to shear it if it's any bigger is like wrestling a wild horse with velcro fur. I usually end up sore and stinking of lanolin, with a weird pattern of wool left on the sheep. (My biggest sheep still has pantaloons on as she wouldn't sit still and did not like getting a haircut.)
So what do I want is the next question. I am selecting for medium size, well behaved, and delicious. Yes, you can select for taste, which involves many grueling hours of taste tests and keeping the mothers of the ones on the grill for hopefully more tasty lamb chops.

Culling my flock this year is especially hard as I'm culling other things in my life too. Living out of a suitcase really reminds me of how little stuff I actually need. I called the dumpster to get picked up and I'm ready to fill it again. I can't keep holding on to these things forever, especially if I'm not using them. I hate clutter and I'm ready for a change.

And I can't tell if I'm removing rejected things, or if I'm just gathering or collecting the things that I want. I think it would be easier to pick out my 5 favorite shirts and throw away the rest of the pile than it would be to go through every shirt that I haven't seen in years (I tend to wear the same 5 shirts, despite their growing holes and tears) or if I should keep that cute dress that I never wore. Or my dreaded interview clothes. Or the even more dreaded substitute teacher clothes.

I've been dreading this day for awhile. My first sheep, how can I get rid of her? It's where the sentimental creeps up ad makes me second guess everything. But my mom sewed that skirt or that was the tshirt I was baptized in. I never wear them, but somehow things tie me back to a certain time of life where things were different and so getting rid of them seems rough, like throwing away old love letters or losing a picture of my dog as a puppy.


I also decided after midnight during a thunderstorm to have a discussion about moving. I'm sick of living in a half finished house with no shower right next door to my parents for way to high of rent. Coming home to a not clean house after vacation, despite being promised it would be cleaned when I got home was the kicker. I think I've just been here too long and I need a change. The lightning all around seemed tame as i plead my case. This is even more difficult because I feel like I invested all my hopes of happiness or a normal life into this house, into building this flock and this family and it stinks to think that it's not what I'd hoped. .

After finding this old blog and reading it over, I realized that I've been bitching about the same things for years. And while things have gotten a bit better, I think moving in together was a terrible idea. But it seems  every step in a relationship has barbs like a zip tie and once those are tightened, you can't go back.
So it's not just like, hi honey, I like you and all, but I'd like a little bit more space and for me not to have to worry about money issues by being so closely tied. Actually, I think that came towards the end. I've found myself to be more articulate more often now. He said I was being selfish.

I know this is going to be hard and it hurts like fucking hell right now. But can I keep going back and forth? My place is amazing, but the short circuit for the light in the fridge, the leaky faucet sink, no shower, the insulation in the ceiling falling down, you'd think I have the worst slum lord in the world. But in the morning as I walk through the field with the chickens swarming like a school of fish around me as I walk back to check on the sheep who are peacefully laying in the field chewing their cud with no idea of my culling plans.... this is what I fight with. There's good and bad to everything. I know my instinct is just to keep doing what I'm doing because it's uncomfortable to do anything else. And once I start making changes, when do I stop. And will I regret it?