A2B—Lancaster Farming, Saturday, April 7,1984 BY JACK HUBLEY ATGLEN An afternoon drive to this place is a step back in time. Leave the bumper-to-bumper behind in Lancaster, head for Strasburg, then south to Ninepoints, a left, a right, top the rise, coast down the hill and you’re there. The old two-story stone and stucco house has been there since the 1830’s, tucked away in a wrinkle of southern Lancaster County only a half-mile from the Chester County line in Sadsbury Township. Like a fetching bookcover, the outside of this house insists that you see more. Walk across the hardwood floors and warm your hands by the woodstove within the chest-high hearth of an ancient fireplace. A window sill as deep as your bedroom closet catches your eye. They don’t make walls and sills like this anymore, so you walk over for a closer look and happen to spy the herd of sheep out back. No ordinary flock of uniformly white animals, these sheep range in color from black to chocolate to a silvery cream. There are a lot of questions stirring in your head so you shoo the snoozing cat from the Two different fleece types to be found at Wasteland Farm are (left), the dark, heavy Karakul, and the light, softer Romney. Through crossbreeding, the Schoonhovens hope to produce a softer wool while retaining the rich color variations of the Karakul. V This young Katakul/Romney hybrid displayed by Caren possesses the dark, lustrous fleece of interest to hand spinners. The black sheep of Wasteland Farm stuffed chair and settle back for a chat with Caren Ohoonhoven on the suject of Wasteland Farm. Born and raised in California, Caren Glotfelty had already owned the old stone place and it’s 20 acres for five years before she married Wim Schoonhoven in 1982. Wasteland Farm? The name •nee seems no more appropriate >h« i nme more organized and exert outergarments may well find their moie influence,” she observes, f irtune in Wasteland. -