The rest of the day - report 5 days later.

Well, its been a busy weekend. After my last post, things continued pretty much as expected. As it turned out, the events with the ewes were , indeed, prophetical. The black yearling who tried to claim the lambs was Ruby - the first born black lamb last year - and she now has a daughter, born later that day. And, the crossbred ewe finally has twins of her own to care for, also born later the same day.

In a sad, but real form, the twins didn't fare as well. Their mother never had any interest in them. Despite all efforts, mothering instinct just sometimes isnt there. I could go into a rant on the similarities of yearling ewes to teenage human mothers, but I won't waste the time. One twin didn't make it, and the other is struggling. Or maybe it was a bad day to be born. Ruby's little one is not well either. She appears to be premature. Very small, with hardly any wool, which is a usual sign they were born too early. She's weak, but holding on. Some sunshine and warmer, dryer weather has been ordered by the flock master. Some of the other lambs could use it too.

However, the older lambs seem to be doing well. Count is now around 75, with 4 or 5 yet to lamb. Now we are hoping for regular rains and sun to make the grass grow.




Baby shower - as requested, a picture of the cake. Keep in mind that my cake philosophy is make it cute, but make it quick. They're just going to eat it. It was good. And Baby Girl McClure has lots of cute things to welcome her home - two months from tomorrow!

So that's it for now. Have much to do before an art show May 1. And the yard and garden are beginning to beckon.

Here's to blue skies and sunshine.

Its April 15th

Well, here it is. April is half over, and I am behind again. At least mainly just on my blog posts, and not everything else. But I have missed some prime subject matter, so I'll have to try to catch up.

April 1, we had2 sets of triplets. No fooling. And, one of the six was black. As of today, we have 68 lambs on the ground, 14 of them colored. More than one visiting child/former resident has now looked out toward the barn and exclaimed 'Man there are a lot of lambs out there." True, we have never had this many before, but thats what you hope for when you neglect to cull the flock the summer before.

As any seasoned shepherd knows, the one predictable thing about sheep is their unpredictability. Proved right again. We haven't had any lambs in several days. It's been one of those times when you start resenting having to drag yourself out to the barn at inconvenient times to find nothing new yet again. The days have been warm, although often gray, but good lambing weather. But of course, the girls prefer to hang on to their little ones until they can be presented with drama and surprise.

Sure, there have been some that looked 'close' for weeks now. We've been watching. Especially the old crossbred ewe who has tried to claim others lambs every time one drops. We've watched as the bellies and bags continue to grow. But the only thing popping out are the peas and potatoes, and the spinach and the lettuce and beets out in the garden.

Last night, the wind was wicked, and it turned colder. Rain poured a good part of the night, and again this morning. New lambs yet? of course not.

Only the large limb left damaged by last summers storm was dangling from the tree. I have been nervous, listening to it creaking in even a light wind, knowing it was likely to fall. At least when it did, it fell away from the house, so the only thing it hit was the lilac bush.

So, I ventured out this morning thinking surely there would be lambs. Wrong. And at noon, still no signs of any action. 'What are they waiting for?' I voiced yet again. But no one heard me but Dolly.

- Oh and Dolly! An update - Good news. Today she got to go naked for the first time since the event. I stripped off her blue jacket, (you can add the velcro sound effects here) and she looked suspiciously at me when I didnt put another directly back on. I threw them both in the wash, and since she would be with me in the house all day, I let her go bare. I only had to admonish her once to cease with the licking. The wound has closed except for an inch or two, and that is scabbed over, almost ready to release. She has a wicked scar, but in time it should mostly cover with hair. We are happy for her, and we will all be glad when she can wear nothing but her own coat, and return to respectable Border Collie fashion, in natural black and white.

And the rain changed to snow. Still no lambs.

So, I decided while I was house bound, I would commence with the baking of cake. Cake for the Baby Shower on Sunday. But I had to change plans slightly. I was going to make the main cake pink and black and white, since it was the first 'Pink' themed shower. But alas my one strawberry cake mix was bad. So I changed to the Butter pecan instead. (I doubt anyone is going to complain, as I have a cake reputation).

I had just slid the pans into the oven and set the timer, and something out the window caught my eye. Sure enough, it was a newborn lamb staggering through the mud. I grabbed my coat and hat, and headed snatch the little fellow from the muck.

There was a din of bawling and bleating in the barn. The ewes were all excited, and were milling around inside and out. Only the crossbred ewe was paying any attention to the lambs - there were actually two, one hiding behind the open end of the barn door. A quick look told me they were not hers. A little thin ewe trailed evidence of motherhood, but she was oblivious. I carried the twins in to a jug, and a black yearling and the crossbred followed. This was going to take some sorting. And of course, the clock was ticking down on the cake in the oven.

No one was cooperating with me. (except the nurse ewes, who were alternately munching on straw and licking the lambs that were not theirs). I set up a panel, and tried to be patient to sift off the new mother in the direction of one of the lambs which I had placed in the corner. I dearly hoped that the burning cake I smelled was only my imagination. Finally, as the bellering quieted, the mother heard her lamb, and she moved closer. I jumped at the chance, and soon mother and babies were reunited, and the nurse ewes dismissed. I sped to the house.

Time is seldom percieved accurately in its passing, and thankfully this was the case. While the buzzer had sounded, and END glowed in red, the cake was fine. It is now cooling, black and white and tan colored goodness nestled together in the same pan.

And, although its still snowing, at least we don't have the closed roads and 5 ft drifts they have to the west. And, we need the moisture. Especially with all these lambs. The grass will hold just a little bit longer for all these mouths we feed.

April is half over. The taxes are filed. The temporary drought of lambs is over. On to spring. And new grand babies, and showers. And cake.

Sorry, no pictures today. A cake is enough.

They're here!

The lambing has begun. Tuesday morning I heard Don leave for work. Or rather, I heard the sheep when he left. I figured there was something up because they are usually not that loud when just let out of the barn. So, when I did the first barn check that morning, there was a ewe and lamb in the first jug. Nothing else was going on, so I put Dolly in the kennel for the day, and went to town for nursery shopping with my daughter in law.

I drove in a terrible but brief rainstorm on the way home. Don and Dolly were in the house, where they had taken quick cover as the storm was hitting just as Don got home. He said he thought there were probably more lambs in the barn, but he hadn't taken time to look.

So, we both went out to check. Sure enough, numbers 2 and 3 had arrived. Both singles, a buck and a ewe, but BOTH BLACK! Well, one was spotted, as you can see. What cute little things lambs are, regardless of the color. And, like last year, the first ewe lamb of the season has a name. She has little black circles in the white around her mouth, so I started calling her Dimples. We'll see if it sticks.

Meanwhile, back at the house, other progress was made. Shortly after returning to the computer to post the pictures on FB,, Dolly emerged from her spot under the end table by Don's chair. She looked at me strangely, and shook violently in a wave like action typical of wet dogs, in a progression from head to tail. Then she blinked hard a couple of times, and rolled her eyes as if to say " What day is it? I need to get back to work." Which she promptly did. As if just waking up from her 5 day sleep, she wanted out. She watched Don finish chores. She laid at our feet while we ate. She moved back to her usual place in the office for her evening nap.

Wednesday morning, she was at the shop door waiting to be let out. She went on her usual morning rounds. Throughout the day, she followed me around the house, and occasionally wanted out to check the sheep. The afternoon visitor sent her into a frenzy. (She has always loved Kathy). She paced and fret because Don was late getting home, and then went with him to do chores. It was like magic - our dog was back. She goes back tomorrow to get the staples out if we think shes ready. I think SHE thinks she is. But she still hates her sporty blue coat.

Back to the lambs - the noon check today found a set of twins. White, but up and running. I put them in a jug with their mother, since 3 other ewes were trying to claim them. Maybe there will be more later today.

But at least its starting out to be a good season. Live lambs. Black lambs. And Dolly is back with us.

Grateful

It didn't happen this year. March 19th has passed, and we had no lambs. For the past several years, the first lamb of the season has arrived on March 19. Never mind when they were due, they managed to arrive on the 19th. We thought we had something going. Apparently not. Instead, this year, it is now the 21st, and we are watching the woolly bellies ever expanding. I have empathy for the poor girls, hearing their grunts and groans, fully understanding how miserable they are. My daughter was 3 weeks overdue, and weighed 11 lbs because of it. Fortunately for humankind, they don't let that happen anymore. So, we begin the waiting game, and hope for larger numbers of lambs, and not just larger lambs.

Meanwhile, last week was eventful, and not in a good way. I was out on a paint job Wed, and shorty after 3:00 my phone rang. It was Don, and I knew it probably wasn't good. The tone of his voice confirmed it. "I have bad news." I somehow knew it was about Dolly.

It was. She had a terrible accident. The crescent shaped gash ran from just behind her elbow to almost the top of her back, with a second tear in between. Don rushed her to the vet, who also labeled it as 'terrible'. He worked for over an hour, sewing her up with uncounted stitches in three layers, and 33 staples to finish it off. She spent the night 'in hospital', and needless to say, I didn't sleep well.

The next morning, with a rock in my gut, I called to check on her. Doc answered the phone, and was upbeat. She was up and moving, eating and drinking, and apparently in good spirits. 'One tough dog' was her newly appointed title.

Don brought her home that afternoon. I heard the familiar click of her toenails as she trotted in to see me. I was surprisingly well prepared for the sight. She looked good, other than the 2 zippers installed in the now hairless side. She even insisted on going out to watch Don do chores. But we soon saw there were problems ahead.

I knew the staples were going to itch. I didn't expect it so soon. The next morning I caught her starting to scratch and worse still, lick the wound. Or rather, to try to. She can't quite reach it. Which meant she was doubling up trying, which bent the flesh, pulling the staples even more. The were coming loose, and i knew we had to do something fast.

Off to the fabric stash. Some measurements, and experience with the sheep covers and clothing design came in handy again. The result was a jacket that covers the wound, has a soft replaceable pad inside, and protects from those nasty back feet toenails. But, being a Border Collie, of course she hates it. I tried to make it better by explaining to her that some working dogs wear coats as uniforms. She decided she could tolerate it. Maybe.

We left her alone for a few hours Sat. afternoon, and when we came home, she greeted us with a happy smile and wagging tail, and the coat thoroughly chewed and lying in the corner like a dead rat. It must have had worked better than I had imagined, because without it for just a short time, she had managed to lick or scratch out a few of the staples. It wasn't too bad, so we let it go. I will call the office today to see if they want or can do anything about it.

Otherwise, she seems to be doing fine. She eats, and moves normally. We don't agree that her new/old place to lay is under the table by Don's chair, as its a little hard to squeeze under. But, being a Border Collie, there's no sense arguing about it. She does spend a lot more time sleeping, but I consider that a good thing. If we say the 's' word (sheep) she's out the door in a flash, even if she tires easily, and is soon ready to go back in, even if chores aren't completely done. So we think shes on the road to recovery, even if it may be a long walk yet.

We still have no idea what or how it happened. We have played CSI, and gone over the whole farm looking for evidence, and found nothing. Vet said there was no indication that it was caused by a bite of another animal. That it was more likely a vertical piece of metal, but that she would have had to be moving at a high rate of speed for anything to cause that kind of damage. We can't find anything that fits, and with rain on the way, we may never know.

We are just grateful to a caring vet who took the time to save her, and even call later to check on her. And, for her. We are now not the only ones who know she is one tough dog.

I know she will soon be enjoying the new lambs, following close at our heels.

Good Dog, Dolly.

Calendar commands it.

I decided earlier today to forgo the pictures I previously planned to post, and include this happy Gal instead. a recent creation, I have grown rather fond of. One of those things I feel compelled to do without any planned use for; no real reason for 'being', yet here she be. She is know by the title of "Knit 'in Pearl". Guess I'm one of those old people still playing with dolls, or one so hard up they have to literally 'make their own friends.

This has always been one of my favorite days. Not a holiday, although it is my favorite (only)son-in-laws birthday - Happy Birthday Chris. It's not that likely to be noted for the weather (cloudy and cold wind today), any historical event (yet, anyway), or any other particular reason. I think i noticed that it was a commanding day when I was in about third grade. Probably part of a joke or something, and I just liked how it sounded - March forth! Very authoritarian. Matter of fact, not to be argued with. Not at all like later dates, like May, (rather questionable), or July, that makes you think of hot days, and lying around, but direct. And, as the years have past, I have come to think we should pay more attention to it.

After all, Spring is a mere 17 days away. We could have the first lamb in 15. What better sign than a new season is about to begin. And there is nothing more promising than spring. The days are already noticeably longer. A few reports have sprung up from the aware (or just anxious) that the crocus are about to emerge. And as fast as the days and weeks fall away, bigger and brighter blooms will soon follow.

So, it is fitting, I think, that we pause for a moment on this day, gather up our winter worn loins and take a symbolic step into a new growing season. I for one, have intentions of tilling and planting and tending new growth in several areas of my life. Some are given - like another grandchild, mileposts for the others. But some are more personal, just for me. I won't even name them, because that would make them more like resolutions, and those are for another time. And, growth is not always outward and seen. I hope I can summon up the persistence and energy it will take. At least I will try.

So I will go now, a scoff at the wind, and build a fire. And stare into the orange red glow of the embers as the daylight fades. And follow the un-intended command of the day, of March 4th.

Shear Delight

Last weekend was shearing day. I actually have a number of pictures, but blogger is not cooperating today. I have found it very frustrating that I cannot post and add pictures where I want them. The result is that I have to write the post backwards, so I can get the pictures by the text where I want them. If anyone knows a better way, I wish they would tell me. I know I am tech challenged, but I also know others who have done the same thing. Oh well, I guess words will have to do for now.

I have been attempting - not terribly successfully - to catch up on business and personal stuff the last couple weeks since I canceled my paint job. The big ladder tried to make an escape on my last job. I caught it, but in the process pulled something in my shoulder, and despite home therapy, its still not right. I'm taking that to be a sign I am supposed to be working at home. Only problem is for every thing I get done, I think of 2 or 3 new things to do. And that covers products as well as chores. I hope the notes will keep me on track while I do the things that need doing now.

Nope. Still won't let me add a picture.

Shearing was good this year. Nice clean fleece. some colored ones from the yearlings. Lovely long staple locks from the Coopworth. I dutifully ignored the comments from the shearing floor. I have learned over thee years that its therapeutic for the shearer. Ranting about the ewes genealogy seems to have an analgesic effect on the sore spots. The severity of the words used is directly proportional to the kicking and threshing of the ewe. Plus the occasional bite. And, this year there were words directed to the borrowed equipment (breakdown of our own) when it would occasionally shut itself off by wrapping the cord around the shaft. I'm not sure who was to blame for that set up, and I didn't ask. But overall it was a rather non-eventful harvest, which is good.

I got a good picture of an example of how much difference a cover makes on the fleece. This one must have been pretty clean when we put them on, because there wasn't even any dirt. Marketing would be so much easier if they were all like this. Especially for the colored ones.


We emptied the shelves of last years fleeces we didn't want to keep. Mostly the uncovered ones. Those we bagged for the commercial market. Lucky Alex will be getting some nice wool.

So another season is under way. Next step will be to set up the barn before the little ones arrive. Which, according to custom is March 19. Even if they are not due by math calculations until the 23rd. We'll see if they do it again this year.

Maybe the other pictures will get posted next time. For now, its in the bag.

Signs of ......

Over the last few days, the snow has receded. The cat has taken to night runs across the floor in pursuit of unseen prey, and a couple times has considered going out. Dolly has spent more time out than in, choosing sunshine on the driveway over the bark-o-lounger. All sure signs that winter is waning.

Braydon is a year old, and I a year older. His birthday was significant, mine not so much. Yet both of us continue on the adventure of life learning. I hope he is enjoying our shared time as much as I am, and is gaining as much. I don't think it will be long until Aurora will be ready to be let in on the secret, and then one day the new one. I never really knew a Grandmother, so I hope I'm doing it right.

So many things to do and take care of this time of year. Lots of clean up work to be sure, but its of the more rewarding kind. Its the making ready for the new. Don's preferred reading material are the seed catalogs. The last dyeing day results were decidedly hues of the coming spring, but by unconscious choice. And Saturday is on the calendar as the turning point of spring - shearing day.

As usual, the first real thaw came a week too early, and the muddy lots make me cringe, but I console myself with the knowledge that the covers at least will ensure that at least some of the wool will be clean. Most likely more than I can use or even sell. But then, you never know. I am excited to see the first colored fleeces from the yearlings. I wonder how many chocolate colored things I can think of to make.

The quilt is Braydons. I waited until I could make something especially to suit him. He loves his friends on the farm, and now he can have them with him all the time. Happy Birthday big boy Braydon.