Farm Profile by: Bonnie Swenson
How we became a sheep farm
Our destiny to own Icelandic sheep began long before we were aware of it. My husband, Peder,
grew up spending his summers (and some winters) in Iceland at his older sister’s sheep ranch in
the Northwest of Iceland, helping with lambing, sheep round-up, and getting to know the
traditional customs and culinary delicacies. He spent much of his life around horses, specifically
Icelandic horses. The family started an Icelandic Horse business in the early 1990’s, and Peder
became a horse trainer, attending programs in Iceland, Canada, and the US.
I grew up with a few cats and some chickens in the back yard in Southern California. My
experience with farm animals was limited to my experiences photographing them. I had begun
photographing horses when I was 16. Some of my photos were used as advertising and some
were published in horse magazines beginning in 1997. My experiences with horses expanded as
I got to know my (now) husband.
When we were married in 2002 we started a “normal” life in Southern Oregon, no farm animals in
sight. That changed almost immediately. We moved to Goldendale, Washington to manage the
family horse ranch for a winter. The work was hard and seemed never-ending, but the
experience of working with the horses was rewarding. A winter turned into a year, and in the
meantime, I fell in love with Icelandic horses. Well, one horse in particular, but that’s a different
story.
The ranch spread over 640 acres of rolling alfalfa fields, ponds, and riding trails. While Peder
trained horses, my free time at the ranch was spent following the herd of about 100 horses and
taking photos. As more and more trainers came to stay on the ranch, I improved my riding skills,
and spent most of my time assisting the trainers and riding my new mare (that horse I fell in love
with).
On this same horse ranch, the owner had a small flock of Icelandic sheep. It fell upon Peder and
me to care for them. What Peder never expected was that I would fall head over heels for the
sheep. It happened over time, but the moment that I really realized I was in love was when I sat
in their paddock one spring evening at feeding time. It had been a tough day for me, and I
needed some time alone. The sun was going down, and this is when all the lambs play the most
(while the moms are busy eating). The little lambs were discovering how fun it was to play with
each other, jumping and play-fighting. Everything was exciting to them, and every other lamb
was their best friend. Their innocent joy just made everything else in my life melt away. They
were my escape.
Shortly after Peder and I moved off the ranch to continue our “normal” life, the owner of the
horse farm decided to get rid of the sheep. Learning that the sheep would be sent to auction, I
decided we had to buy them. We moved to the West side of the Cascade Mountains with our
sheep and our horses, and Isfaxa was born.
I spent the next few months obsessed with researching sheep care and flock management
styles. Careful feeding and record keeping, and a great love for the sheep led to a noticeable
improvement in condition score, followed by a fantastic lambing season in 2004. We can only
hope that every lambing season is as successful. The ISBONA internet chat list and many
breeders’ web sites were a great help in my initial and continuing research. I continue to learn.
These sheep are my constant teachers.
Isfaxa Farm is now in Ridgefield, Washignton, a small rural community just north of Portland,
Oregon. We enjoy the close proximity to our family, and the beautiful Columbia River Gorge.
The flock of sheep now stands at 24, including two rams, two promising ram lambs, seventeen
ewes, and three “uncles” (wethers). They are constantly accompanied by Gaston, the Great
Pyrenees livestock guardian dog. We are so pleased with Gaston. We always tell people these
are his sheep; we just take care of them for him. We often find young lambs sleeping on his
back in the sun, or running and bouncing off of him. He truly believes these are his sheep, and
you can tell he takes great pride in them. We have never lost a sheep to a predator since we’ve
had him, but have seen him protect the flock from coyotes and neighboring dogs several times.
Farm life
Isfaxa means “ice mane.” We try to keep traditional Icelandic names for our sheep. The ewes
have taught me a lot about mothering, about good hard work, and about giving your heart, your
time, and your tears to an animal that totally depends on you. There’s something that I’m sure
touches every shepherd and shepherdess when you work your hardest to save a lamb’s life, and
you succeed. And it’s the same moment that can just tear you down when you don’t. These
ewes give me a feeling that through them I connect to some cycle of life that is older and more
valuable than anything else I’ve experienced. The way of life they provide for me makes me feel
like I carry on a tradition that is now rare. When I pick or wash a fleece, I imagine the
generations before me that performed these same functions for survival. I believe that women
played a very important role in these traditions. Because of this, I try to give my ewes the names
of fairies and goddesses from the sagas. My girls have names like Disa (goddess), Huldis
(goddess of mystery), Oskadis (fairy/goddess of wishes), Fjalladis (goddess of the mountains),
and Saedis (sea goddess).
Industry
My main interest in the industry surrounding the products of Icelandic sheep is fiber production.
The Icelandic sheep has always impressed me with the diversity of color and pattern
combinations in the breed. We breed for expression of pattern, fleece quality, and disposition. I
knit and have a major interest in learning to felt and spin. I spent much of the summer up to my
elbows in fleece, and now eagerly await the next shearing! I wash my own fleece, but have not
yet begun to process it further. Hopefully that will happen this winter. I plan to attend my first
fiber festival in September of this year (the Oregon Flock and Fiber Festival). I’m excited to meet
other people who are involved in fiber production, and learn more about the industry.
We also sell several of our lambs for meat every year. In our experience, the demand is always
greater than the supply. The past two seasons we’ve had to turn people away because we
simply didn’t have enough. Our meat lambs are grass fed and raised organically. As a
vegetarian, I am often asked how I can raise my sheep for meat. I always tell them that my sheep
have a happy life, and no matter what their destiny, the lambs on my farm grow up with their
mommies, with lots of room to grow and run and play with friends. Many meat producers in this
country don’t provide their animals with that kind of life. I’m happy to say that I can. We strive to
raise our entire flock with room to roam and a natural, chemical-free life.
The color or our flock
I love the expression of color and pattern in the Icelandic sheep. I only have two white sheep in
my flock so far, everyone else has color. When I think of what my flock will look like in 5 years, I
imagine the hillside speckled with all combinations of color and pattern. Each individual sheep
expresses the patterns in a different way. That may sound strange, but some sheep have subtle
patterns, some have very crisp and bright patterns. Some sheep look bleached by the sun,
others stay deep and rich. Each fleece is precious to me. I don’t dye my fleeces, so the natural
wool and the differences in color are important. The combination of different hues in each fleece
provides a natural tweed and multi-tonal wool.
Our flock’s genetics include lines from breeders here on the west coast, but we’re looking to
expand our genetic diversity. We recently purchased a Morro grandson and a Hynkill grandson.
We hope to purchase some "east coast" bloodlines next summer.
(From an article in Icelandic Sheep Breeders of North America Fall 2004 Newsletter)
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