Bill Fosher claims that eventually I’ll develop such muscle memory that electronet leaps unbidden from my arms and sets itself into the ground.  I’m not there yet.  The portable electric fencing I use to enclose grazing areas for the flock is a crucial part of my operation, but it’s also become my principal preoccupation and adversary.  It’s a straightforward enough system:  a solar fence charger and rolls of plastic net fencing with stainless steel conductors woven through.

The details, though, reveal that the system was designed by sadists.  The rolls of net are sized so that they can be comfortably carried and deployed by someone 6 inches taller and 30% stronger than the one doing the work. The net itself is designed like a ecologically friendly fishing net, allowing squirrels to pass through unimpeded but optimized to snare farmers’ footware.  And the fence charger has a handle temptingly located in such a way that no anatomically intact human could use it.

I’ve been setting up big squares of electronet — 164 feet to a side — and then subdividing them into 7 strips, each worth about 12 hours of grazing.  This morning I moved the sheep in to the last strip of the previous square, so this evening I needed to set up a new one to start the 3½ day cycle over again.  I set up the perimeter first, making sure that my corners all met up before setting the fence upright.

When the big square was complete, I set off the first grazing strip.

And then moved the sheep down to the fresh pasture.

If the sheep eat as much as I expect over night, I’ll move them to the adjacent strip in the morning.  Despite my kvetching, I only trip and fall on the net every third or fourth day now.  Bill is still much faster than me setting it up, but I’m slowly gaining on him.