Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The sun shines and the lab nurses
In which the world continues on, and the lab was heard musing, "The things I have to do to entertain this little fellow..."
The sun came out this morning after days of physical and emotional drizzle mixed with heavy rains. It is a new day.
For the first time in 2 weeks I do not need to rush to the barn to check on my hospice charges, or new arrivals. All lambs have now been born, with Daisy [Rosie's daughter] delivering two huge, hay bucking boys yesterday, and Blue [Coral's daughter] delivering twin girls on the weekend. While we lost 5 ewe lambs and two mother ewes, it is over, and it is time to notice the many percolations of the mother of all of us, the earth. The grasses can be heard in the spring, first like far off little bird chirps, but as they warm up their lungs, they explode with spring time melodies.
Today I will put all the new lambs out in the sun for the first time, in the protection of the orchard, and introduce them to their special needs brother who has yet to be named. Huck has been a wonderful wet nurse and aide to the little fellow. Perhaps one of the lighter moments this week was watching that baby lamb try to nurse on Huck's manly appendage, and true to his generous personality, Huck stood gallantly still, trying to help the little guy out. It is time for him to live in his real home, the barn, where he can be the sheep he now just dreams of. For when he sleeps, his little hooves move and twitch, and I can only assume he is jumping and leaping in the Apifera grasses that he hasn't even felt yet. I feel like I'm sending off my glasses wearing-stuttering-very tiny child to kindergarten for the first time, cringing at the thought of the other larger, more coordinated youngsters making fun of him. We will continue to bottle feed until weaning time, and in due time we will whether him and give him some important role on the farm, but he will be saved from being a Chosen One.
I am grateful for the outpouring of emails and comments from so many - some of you I know, others are followers of the farm, and some of you have been through your own farm losses.
It is now time to breath in all the new life, and listen to the grasses sing. Next time you visit a farmer's market, look closely in the eyes of the people raising food - they work hard and sacrifice to keep that farm going.