Lambing and calving is a strange time of year. It’s unsettling. I still have masses of routine things to do. But I avoid them. I can’t concentrate on computer work, I shun the phone – where are you? the messages demand; I wander listlessly through the house and wander back again.
Happier outside. I put on my boots, hat and coat; check the sheep, ewes and lambs, check the cattle, cows and calves. Carry hay, carry straw, muck out pens, scrub and disinfect, ready for the next occupant. I’m hungry; I’m yearning for something delectably delicious, though nothing tempts me. I pick at proper food and end up eating a whole packet of shortbread, cashew nuts and maltesers which make me feel sick.
Oh it’s time! On with the boots, on with the hat, coat, pockets heavy with knife, castrating tool, homeopathic remedies, iodine, surgical gloves, notebooks and pen, twine and hanky; out again to check sheep, check cows, check lambs and calves.
Each year I think I’ll manage to avoid my slip into no-man’s-land. Cook good food, rest after lunch, keep to some normal routine if at all possible and prevent the slide. Never works.
I’m in a lull. The first snow-sprinkling of lambs born and I’m experiencing a hiatus. Surely, you’d think, a welcome break before the intensity to come; time to recoup and recover? But it doesn’t work like that. Giving birth isn’t an exact science it’s unpredictable. So every few hours it’s out to check. Waiting, I’m out of kilter; jumpy, wondering when the bubble will burst.
In the nursery field I keep an eagle eye out for any problems that may develop with baby lambs and their mums. Post-partum mastitis, scours in either ewe or lamb, orf, inter-digital abscesses, pneumonia, clostridia, failing-to-thrive and, less serious, but very uncomfortable, scraping glutinous-glue-sticky colostrum-ochre stools which gum tails hard and fast to ballooning rumps (dogs’ delight!). The first few days can be critical. Energy required by a post-partum lactating ewe is huge and demanding, stress triggering all manner of nasty surprises. Baby lambs are tiny and vulnerable, dependant on the ability of their mothers and diligence of their shepherd. But I’m lucky; my sheep are motherly and vigilant.
Oh it’s time! On with the boots, the hat, the coat, pockets heavy…
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March 5, 2008 at 8:27 pm
Jane
How lucky your yews are to have a person like you keeping watch over them. Your post oozes caring. I can quite understand you not being able to concentrate on anything else. I hope all your yews give birth with no awful problems (especially not in the middle of the night, in the cold and dark). Look after yourself and those woolly critters (that’s an order!). Jane x
March 7, 2008 at 7:07 pm
paula
Thanks for your thoughts and concern Jane.
They’re pretty good sort of sheep to have and tend to get on with the job very well. But you never know when they need a helping hand.
A load of friends are coming round to pamper me tonight – fantastic!
March 7, 2008 at 8:54 pm
eyegillian
There’s a quality of restfulness about sheep faces — and cows, too — that makes me want stop and breathe deeply. I suppose its just pastoral idealism, too many English watercolours I was exposed to as a child. Still, I think your photo of the ewe and lamb together is the epitomy of pastoral loveliness. I hope you have time to breathe and feel rewarded for your labours!
March 9, 2008 at 8:46 pm
paula
Thank you Gillian, thank you very much. I’m flattered that as a photographer you feel I’ve captured an ‘essence’ in the ewe and lamb photo.
Yes there is something calming and restful about being amongst cattle and sheep. I’ve just come in from checking on the cattle; wandering through them touching and communing with them lulls one into a timeless place.
March 10, 2008 at 9:48 pm
Notaproperfarmer
You’ve just captured in one post exactly our routine and worries of the last month. A great post. Thanks
March 10, 2008 at 10:25 pm
paula
Good to see a new face and I’m glad the post rang true with you.
Thoughts are with you, fellow lamber. There will be a time, at some point, when we’ll relax again!
March 12, 2008 at 1:11 pm
LittleFfarm Dairy
Reading this post is like a mirror to my life. I’ve just come in from wandering through the barns & fields, checking our herd of dairy goats & flock of ShetlandxRyeland ewes, who are running with a Greyface Dartmoor ram. It certainly is a funny time of year, & I have to really motivate myself to do the routine stuff – somehow it pales into insignificance when compared with the responsibility of managing the mums. I do find writing my Blog keeps me more on track however. But it’s nice to know I’m not alone!
March 15, 2008 at 5:23 pm
paula
My apologies for taking time getting back to you, but you’ve probably gathered that all sheep decided to let go in the last 24 hours!
It is a weird time – I can’t even find clothes to put on if I have get out of my overalls, waterproof trousers etc. etc. – and for the life of me can’t remember what I ware in ‘normal’ times. I feel venerable getting out of lambing/calving gear. Very strange, and tonight I have to go to a friend’s fortieth birthday party – they’ve come over from the States for it – so it’s scrub up and party frock…horrors of horrors!
Anyhow it’s good to see you here and I’ll have a proper look at your sight in the next day or so. You must be kidding as well as lambing. What type of goats do you have?
Good luck and I’m thinking of you.
March 16, 2008 at 9:51 am
LittleFfarm Dairy
Hi Paula,
crikey, poor you! But at least it’s mostly over for you: only two of our ewes have lambed so far & we’ve got one goat from the Phase One group to go, so you can bet the sheep will take over seamlessly from the goats; to be taken over again by the Phase Two goats – meaning I’ll have had approximately three months ‘on the trot’ with minimal sleep! Add to that the kid living in our bedroom with us at the moment….but that’s another story.
Goat-wise, ours is a herd of pedigree British Toggenburgs, all in varying shades of chocolate. It’s jut so frustrating that so far in Phase One we’ve had ten boys but only five girls – not exactly the ratio we were hoping for when trying to grow our foundation herd! You watch, a few years from now when we’re bursting at the seams, all we’ll get will be girls.
In an odd sort of way I envy you the chance for the party frock though – trudging up the yard the other night cradling a very sickly little kid I dreamed of wearing clothes that were actually dry & not covered in slimy afterbirth – or that when they are dry, they’re not ‘crunchy’ & daubed in purple spray! My OH has just gone flying (he’s an airline pilot) with a big green splodge of terramycin spray on his cheek after being smeared by a newly-disbudded kid. I wonder what his passengers will think…?!
Thanks for your good wishes – & congratulations on those gorgeous twin heifer calves, BTW!
March 18, 2008 at 10:32 pm
paula
You’ve certainly got your work cut out too, by the sounds of it. Of course they’ll all have words to make sure you keep you hand in for three exhausting months. How’s the little kid doing? The energy one puts into weak, poorly little ones is HUGE…
I like Toggs – did you choose them for any specific reason or just because you liked them?
I used to have a herd of Anglo Nubians, around 25-30 milkers that I ran alongside my Jersey dairy herd. The BGS sponsored me to go to France to learn about French goat cheese making – fascinating, we milked around 200 goats in a rotary milking parlour, all goats were housed and zero grazed – lucerne, legumes and clovers being cut and fed. I think I exported one of the first English male goats to France – they wanted the high butterfat and protein of the ANs – I seem to remember that the male kid carcass was improved too, of course they had no problem with male kids in France – they love to eat them!
Interesting you’ve had so many males this year. All my calves so far are males apart from the twins, the ewe lambs I can count on my fingers, with an enormous count of ram lambs. What’s up? Is it drought, floods, starvation or bluetongue? I’d love to know.
The party frock felt weird with the purple encrusted finger nails, the aroma of amniotic fluid and the slick of slime! Still, back in encrusted grunge once again.
Thinking of you…
March 22, 2008 at 5:39 pm
LittleFfarm Dairy
The little one was worth every ounce of exhausting effort; she’s now bright, bouncy & full of beans, thank goodness – tiny, but such a pretty little thing.
I chose the BTs because they were a nice ‘mid range’ goat; quite milky & with a good butterfat/protein ratio, ideal for cheesemaking & other dairying activities. We have considered introducing some ANs to the herd, which we may do as & when; but I don’t think I’d go the other wsy i.e. Saanens, as their yields may be high but the miilk isn’t the same quality. We’ve been very pleased with the milk from our girls so far; lovely stuff. Sounds like a fascinating trip to France, you lucky thing….why did you give up the goats, BTW?
As to the high male:female ratio, my OH reckons it is to do with the weather; as it affects the foetus somehow. I know there was a study carried out among male Fast Jet pilots as they tend to sire mostly girl babies – apparently it’s something to do with the heat generated around their nether regions when the ‘G’ suit is activated during extreme manoeuvres! So maybe the answer is to send stud goats up for some aerobatics….!
March 24, 2008 at 10:03 pm
paula
Thank god – I’m pleased!
Went out of milk, gradually, as the children grew, so to speak.
So glad you’re not tempted by the Saanes. ANs can be a bit prima-donna-ish, so be warned! Interestingly all the French goat keepers I knew had a thing for BAs, couldn’t get enough of them.
Well I guess I’d better send all rams and bulls up for a spin in the air this year. Yes, I do think the wet summer had something to do with it – apparently we’re in for another this year too…