Farm Fresh Blog

"Normal people don't live like this!" Other Half growled as he wiped amniotic fluid off the top of his head.

I continued to scrub amniotic goo off the top of his house shoe as he propped it on the hay wagon. Living in a barn has its advantages. Lambing in your house shoes is one of them. Checking on pregnant ewes is as simple as walking across the barn aisle, so it was no surprise when Other Half barged into the bedroom at 2 am last night and announced that Flower Pot was finally in labor.

This ewe has been holding on to her babies. Each time I've been convinced she was going into labor, an hour later she has smiled at me, while chewing her cud, and said, "Sorry, false alarm. Just gas."

But last night was it. I'd been watching her carefully because last year was her first lambing and she lost a twin. She had apparently become so enamored with Baby #1 that when Baby #2 came along, she failed to get the sack off its nose and it smothered while she was doting on Baby #1. I kicked myself for not checking her that night.

She did not repeat the same mistake. This year she is older and wiser and doing a fine job. Flower Pot popped out a little girl while we were still getting dressed. We've had a month to put doors on these stalls so lambs can't wander out into the runs behind the stalls. We've known Flower Pot was about to pop for two weeks. Have we put a door on that stall?  No. At 2 am we were cutting up cattle panels for a makeshift door. Such is life. It got done. Just like Flower Pot, we take procrastination to a whole new level. But hey, the babies are here and the door is up so all is well.

The little girl was up and going like a champ. This kid was with the program.

Her brother? Not so much. As his mother was pushing him out, the wind changed outside and a cold front blew in. A really cold front. Little Brother was wet and was not happy about being pushed out of his nice warm bed to land in this Cold New World. He didn't want to nurse. He wanted to curl up and shiver while his mom licked him. Fearing he was putting too many calories into shivering, we hefted out a hairdryer. Because well, you know, we live in a barn, so the bathroom isn't far away. I named him Cold Front.

A few minutes later he was dry and thinking about nursing. At 4 am he had nursed, so we opted to head for bed. At 7:30 am I found him shivering in the middle of the stall again. Sigh. So I went back into the house across the hallway, and dug out a knit cap. A few snips here and there, and Cold Front was modeling the latest in Carhartt fashion. His mother approved.

Apparently the fashionistas in the audience approved too.

I guess Other Half is right, normal people don't live this way. But that's not always a bad thing. Normal people are missing out on a lot. I mean, really, who wants to be normal when you can have a lamb wearing a Carhartt hat?