It's hard to believe lambing season is upon us. The weather somehow is a cross between late October and early March, topped with the dark nights and mornings of January; confusing to say the least. With or without a foot of snow on the ground, the ewes of Windy Knob are about to begin lambing season. Normally early March, this year we shifted the season a few weeks earlier in an effort to time the lamb growth with the pastures prime season. We just so happened to pick a mild winter to do so, but trust me, I'm knocking on wood and counting on the worst just to be sure we're ready. Though still a week and a half a way, the lambing jugs were all assembled and fresh straw spread all around in anticipation of the next best thing to Christmas.
There is a lot that goes into properly preparing for the lamb arrivals. Simple things like ear tags, docking bands and iodine are all necessary components for a sucessful season. And while I feel much more confident heading into the season, I do find myself a bit lackidazical about the prepartation. My Type A personality that had everything lined up and organized a month ahead of time, has somehow been replaced by the oh yeah, almost forgot that, alter ego.
Other preparations include increased calorie loads for the ewes the last few weeks before delivery. The rams across the hall at WKF dormatory are left with the not so exciting usual flakes of hay, however the coeds are so full in the belly with their lambs, they can't quite get the nutrition necessary to maintain their health and those of the lambs inside. We supplement their hay with upwards of a pound of grain per day. And let me tell you, as crazy as it sounds, I have to remind myself it's sheep food; these oats and grains covered in molasses smells so sweet! To tell you the truth, I swear it looks like the granola bars in my lunch.
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| Mary Jo awaits her buffet |
The sunshine today brings a smile to my face. It's one of those days where farm chores couldn't be more welcomed. Putzing across the mud soaked driveway, dropping bales of hay from the upper loft, and spending some time with the girls in the paddock; not bad for an afternoon's work. Mary Jo, our ambassador of peace (and food) waits in line as she associates my presence with a trough full of grain.
I was just describing lambing season to a friend of mine. It's the only time, where getting up at 2am has its perks- starts with throwing on the Carhartt jacket, somehow still stiff after several years of use, and stepping into my oversized snow boots; never tying the laces, only tucking them inside at best. I reach for the door handle, grasping the air several times because my eyes still haven't adjusted quite yet. I stumble down the stairs and head towards the barn where the glow from the porch light is now out of reach. Down the sloped driveway, where the only way I know I'm avoiding the drop off is if I hear gravel under my boots, meaning I'm still on course. If it is a good night, the moon will be reflecting off the snow, enough that the barn door handle has a luster that shines a little brighter then the old wood of the door itself. At this point there is a bit of anticipation, where I put my hand on the handle, take a deep breath and slide the metal rollers down along the track.
If the trip is worth its troubles, I know right away.
Quietly, I shuffle past the parked tractor and listen for the bellowing of the newest, youngest Windy Knob-er. Now I rush over to the stall and peek over, getting my first glimpse at the lambs that had been delivered since the previous barn check only a few hours ago.
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| Maternity ward at Windy Knob |
What color? What pattern? How many? Boy or Girl? All questions answered within a pick up and a few roll overs. Momma ewe will be watching my every move; instincts tell her no, but somehow she knows I'm not there for trouble. A swipe of iodine on the belly's navel, and perhaps a cut of the cord, I then weigh the lambs and record who's who. I usually end the greeting with a "good job mom."
One last glance over my shoulder before turning off the lights. I'm off to bed; see you ladies at 6.
