Since I grew up around sheep, I was given the task of chronicling our journey to the sheep farm outside Jönköping. The farm is owned by Karin and Göte Lindström. Göte is the Vice President at the school we were staying at. Their farm is about twenty minutes outside of Jönköping in a lovely countryside starting to green in the warm weather. they greeted us with orange juice on ice, a welcome rerfresshment after the five minute walk from the bus stop. After some conversation about Göte’s hobby of listening and talking to people all over the world through his ham radio, we ate a meal of nettle and broccoli and cheese pies. The verdict was favorable. Karin and Göte have a large garden, so many of the ingredients were home-grown.
After some godis (Swedish assorted candies), we were given a tour of Karin’s collection of old farming tools and pictures. She has a shed full of equipment from hundreds of years ago. She also has some skis and lots of other cool stuff.
After that, we went to check out their sheep. All but two had lambed, so the air was filled with the sounds of lambs calling to their mothers and the mothers answering. Everyone was amazed by the variety of calls and the ridiculous antics the sheep got up to. From the many attempts to eat the fence to the lambs attempting to squeeze milk out of our fingers, the sheep entertained them for far longer than I would have thought possible. Karin and Göte had a pretty small herd, only about 140 head, mostly raised for spinning, which explains why they were so much smaller than the sheep I grew up with, as we raised them for slaughter. Finally, we had to leave and while I cannot say there were tears shed, the parting was painful for many. Those stupid, helpless creatures had made impressions on hearts not easily forgotten.
