Sheepventure vol III intro: The Ber Months Committee
Spindle Falls is a small community of wool-lovers and sheep. The cozy town includes an improbable number of yarn shops, weaving studios, and spinning wheels. And the farms and wild lands surrounding the town are home to flocks of improbably meddlesome sheep.
As a cozy community devoted to wool, the months of September though December (collectively known as the “ber months”) are extra special for the people and sheep of Spindle Falls. Annual events, holiday rituals, and monthly festivals are enormous activities that involve weeks of planning and contributions from everyone in town. You’ve been a happy member of the Ber Months Committee for many years, but this September things took a turn…
It started when the Spindle Falls library staff suggested a new event for the September Back to School festival. They wanted to organize a spelling bee – but not just a normal spelling bee. Instead of spelling words out loud, on a stage with a microphone, participants would have access to a herd of sheep with each sheep wearing a sweater emblazoned with a letter. In order to spell their given word, contestants would have to find the sheep wearing the sweaters with the needed letters, and then line them up in the correct order to spell the word.
Of course, though many residents of Spindle Falls have experience handling and herding sheep (shearing day requires the services of everyone in town), the spelling bee was expected to be hilarious chaos. The thing no one expected, however, was that the sheep – with letters on their sides – would mill about and improbably end up in a sequence where their sweaters spelled out mild swear words. Most groupings of sheep seemed to create words randomly, but you are certain you saw a group of middle schoolers herding seven Shetland sheep and lining them up to spell “boogers.”
This event proved to be too much for Mrs. Pearl Doily who had been heading the Ber Months Committee for nearly 80 years. Rushing past a group of sheep wearing Ps and Os on their sweaters, Mrs. Doily grabs your hand with surprising strength.
“Please,” she says, with tears in her faded gray eyes, “please take over the Committee for the remainder of the year. All these new initiatives are just too much for an old soul like mine.”
You give Mrs. Doily a reassuring smile. “Sure. I’d love to. Sounds like fun.”
A nearby group of Cheviot ewes, wearing the letters A, R, and T are joined by a ram wearing the letter F. The ram looks you right in the eyes, and then seems to grin and wink.
“Sounds like fun,” you repeat with a little more trepidation.