Rosemary did a lot of standing around Sunday, not leading her small herd to usual feeding spots. I knew Sunday nite sometime we'd have lambs. By 5pm, she was hanging out by one of her stalls, as if to say, "Would you get me in there, I'm ready to blow". We had a big burn pile to burn, and I had made a picnic of wine and snacks so we could sit by the fire under a full moon. I got all the animals settled and had Rosie in her lambing area. When I checked on her 20 minutes later, her water had broken. I let her be for 30 more minutes, and when we went to check on her, she had two absolutely beautiful, big, chocolate brown lambs - a boy and a girl. Both are gorgeous. Dark stalls with a flash make lousy pictures, but here they are at less than a day old. I was so proud of her, she is such a pro at all of it. Much more matter of fact and business like than any of our other sheep - dependable with her role as herd boss, I look to her for support, as she acts like a shepherd dog for me, getting everyone going in the right direction. I am confidant we can sell two of the three rams as registered breeding stock, as the breed is becoming highly popular nationally, and I plan to bring in another ewe from another line, so I can breed the third ram so as not to over inbreed - the gentics is all new to me, but I'm learning how to avoid three headed sheep.I have to admit, I'm proud of myself for knowing she was ready to lamb - And I wasn't half as giddy this time. What mother in labor wants a giddy shepherd around anyway? So far, we have been blessed with healthy stock, and good weather.
Little Weed 2 [the chocolate ram out of Daisy] is growing well, and I haven't given up on keeping him...Little Weed 1 has the longest most gangly legs around, and reminds me of some kid I knew in junior high who's legs obviously came from a different parent than his upper torso.
It dawned on me this morning as I worked with Sky, that my life on the farm is less about what's happening externally on a TV, or in a paper or magazine or a store. My life happens right here, with many moments strung together as I walk around the property. It is not really about setting goals as an artist, versus feeling driven to paint or sketch or create something in gratitude for what those moments happened to be on a particualr day. I also have this undying rumbling to create three dimensionally, and I am harkening back to my ceramic days, thinking maybe of getting some clay to handbuild. I feel like making...ok, crafts. God, I know, but the textural quality of
working 3-D seems to be poking me constantly and now that I have another new working table, I am inspired to start some new ideas, of what I'm not quite sure. And I'm going to start that story based on the animal cemetary here and all the animals that come and go, and sometimes stay. I'm not sure what it will be or become, but the land and my time here is grabbing me, telling me to go this way, don't be afraid, just let it roll..."There's a comet in the sky tonite, makes me feel that I'm all right, I'm moving pretty fast for my size"...Mr. Young...
