Digging deep?

Lets just begin this post by listing a few things I'm thankful for...first I'm thankful for an up to date tetanus shot (otherwise I might be in the throes of lock jaw and blogging would become my only means of comunication!)  Second I'm grateful for an amazing daughter who is patient, supportive and loving. Last I'm grateful for hot baths and neosporin. Ok now that I'm in a positive frame of mind I want to recount what happened yesterday. I knew yesterday was gonna be a long day, I had three stops scheduled with a total of 70 animals. We were on the road early and made it to the first stop feeling great, it was looking to be a beautiful day and the sheep were going to be great. First stop was Sue Bundy, for those of you who do not know her she is co-owner of a yarn company that creates single breed, locally sourced yarns which they sell under the name Solitude Wool. They are doing some really neat things and have lovely products. Check out her website and blog at http://www.solitudewool.com/about-us/. But yesterday morning we were at her farm bright and early to shear her 20 Karakuls. I love shearing Karakuls with their goofy fat tails and luxiorious dual coats. They really are a breed with looks. This job went smoothly and was quite a pleasure. The sheep were healthy, the wool was lovely and they had a very nice setup which kept me and ths sheep very happy. Warm temperatures made my long sleeve shirt unessesary but it was such a pleasant morning. From there I went over to a neighbors house and did 10 more lovely Karakuls. More beautiful wool, more healthy sheep. This was sheaing at its beat. We got done right on time and we jumped in the car to tackle the last job. One that I knew was going to be tough, these were "dorsets" but they were huge, with most of the ewes weighing in at ram weights of 200 odd pounds (meaning at by the end of this job I can reasonably assume that I had wrestled 8000 pounds of sheep). He had 40 sheep to be done and I had scheduled him last because I knew these sheep were going to completely wear me out. But them he ran them into the barn and all you could see were the burrs. Big sheep is one thing, big sheep with burrs makes your blood run cold. Well we got set up and ready to roll. The last thing I remember was looking at my arms and thinking..."wow it feels great to have strong arms with no cuts". Then I pulled out the first one. This was the beginning of the end. As a sheep shearer people need to be aware that this is a hard job and when I was just learning, it wasn't unusual to cry over the sheep. Your back hurts, the sheep don't cooperate, the gear starts to fail...it's not an easy job but when it goes right it is such a buzz. Working on these dorsets was a major buzz kill. Big sheep fight, show type sheep typically have very long legs with wool the whole way down to the hoof. Non show type sheep tend to be fatter/rounder but there is the issue of the extra weight to move around although I find they tend to be more relaxed. Show type sheep are fighters and the long legs are always just missing your face when they kick. So we were slowly making our way through them, about ten sheep in I got a really bad fighter. This really just starts to break down your confidence. Shearing in the direct sun also didn't help and I felt my head starting to bake. By 15 sheep my arms were shredded and I had lost one sheep mid shear and another I lost trying to get her out of the gate. By 25 sheep my arms were shaking and bleeding, my head was pounding, and the sheep were still big and angry. By 30 sheep I was completely starting to break down and it was starting to get dark. Somewhere in this time I broke a blade which is so maddening since they cost $25-40 dollars depending on the brand and breaking blades on these sheep makes you really question whether its worth the fight. By 36 it was really getting dark and the sheep just kept coming. I kept asking how many were left, he had told me it was 40 and it looked to be close but there appeared to still be a lot of sheep in the barn. At 38 I asked again, "HOW MANY ARE LEFT!?!" There was still 6. It was dark and 6 sheep was going to be pretty close to another hour of shearing at the rate I was working. I crumbled. I couldn't stand up straight for the pounding in my head. My arms were bright red with cuts. I was shaking and could barely get the sheep down. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't do it. I would like to think that had it not been dark (there were no barn lights where we were shearing) I might have pushed on. But it was dark and I was completely spent. Do you know in the movies when the high school football team has to make the last run to win the game and they dig deep and pull off the big win? I felt like I was in that scene and I wasn't able to make it. The movie of my life was completely anticlimactic and now people would feel sorry for me. The farmer kept saying it was fine and that I should be proud I did as many as I did. I hated the pity. I hated knowing I couldn't finish the last 6 sheep. I hated being weak when it means so much more because I am a girl. Some days I hate this job, and I hate the big sheep. I pulled over twice on the way home to throw up, definite heat stress. I cried, Lydia comforted me. My sensible half gave me the greatest text hug. I finally was able to eat something and I started feeling better. When I got home I took a long bath with oil and Epsom salts. Slathered my poor arms in neosporin and went to bed. Looking back on yesterday through the sunshine of today, I start to think that maybe yesterday wasn't the end, maybe at was just the sad low of the movie to let you emphasize with the heroine. Hopefully that is it. Yesterday was tough. No doubt about that. But you wanted to know the reality of this life and career...hopefully me crying "mercy" is a case of knowing my limits and not an example of my inability to dig deeper in the face of difficulty.