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["Don Bowen" <don.bowen AT earthlink.net>]

> There were no sheep farmers in my little
> pocket of the deep South , when I was a boy.

We had sheep on the farm for several years.  At the time there was a good
local market for the wool but not for meat.  At one time we had a Buck Sheep
that would knock you on your butt just to be mean.  If you were quick you
could grab the wool on his head and he would not hit but as soon as you let
go he was triggered.  The only person he would not hit was my father who
would bribe him with cigarettes.
One day my mother was in the outhouse when the buck came along.  He waited
for her and she would not come out until my father got home and rescued her.
We had an indoor toilet very soon after.
When I was around 2-4 we lived in Cedar City, Utah.  My father was a heavy
equipment operator in the mines and we had very little money.  He bought a
truckload of beets and two lambs.  We ate beets and fed them to the lambs.
When the lambs were big enough he sold one for about what he paid for the
beets and lambs.  We continued to eat beets and added Mutton.  To this day I
cannot even stand the smell of mutton cooking and will not eat beets.

Don Bowen  KI6DIU
http://www.braingarage.com/Dons/Travels/journal/Journal.html