Growing up, there was a day I always looked forward to, and it happened twice a year: shearing day!
The day before the shearing was great, too, because we would spend the day gathering our sheep and goats by horseback — I loved riding horseback more than life itself.
When I was a kid, my family had about 300 head of Angora Goats and about 200 head of Ramboulet sheep in Texas Hill Country. Our day would start early, typically around 6 a.m. It was usually my job to get the horses in and bridle and saddle for them for everyone. Bobo was my horse, and he had been mine since I was about 8 years old and had been a very faithful companion.
We would usually have to work the sheep or goats, vaccinate, and mark them to get them ready for shearing the next day. Friends and neighbors would come to help. That is just how it was when I was growing up — if one of our neighbors had crops coming, a barn to build, or livestock to work, the whole community would show up to help.
The following day, one of the local shearing crews would come out about sunup. To me it was a true art to watch the shearers in motion. They always made it look so easy!
It was always my job to stuff the wool sacks, which were in about 6-foot racks. The shearers would fill the sacks with wool or mohair, and I would jump and down to stuff the sacks. I would help with marking them, too.
At noon, my mom would come to the pens with a picnic and some ice-cold sweet tea for everyone. It was usually fried chicken or roast beef sandwiches and some delicious dessert.
After everyone had their fill, it was back to work again. I would return to stuffing wool sacks again, and the whole process would last until sundown. My mom would feed everyone again, usually grilled steaks or stew, and we would sit around and tell stories and sing.
These are some of my best memories growing up. The food, the music, and camaraderie. I miss those days.
