This week we rolled up our sleeves and dealt with a few close shaves in an attempt to keep anarchy at bay.
In fairness, the close shaves were planned and whilst the sheep never really enjoy their yearly visit from the shearer it does make the summery days bearable. Unfortunately, summery days have been few and far between since they received their new do’s but when the sun does finally put its hat on, our flock is well prepared.
While we had the flock penned up we took the opportunity to give our six lambs their first 5-in-1 jab and then congratulated ourselves on being so very practical and downright farmy. We were careful not to gloat too much, but obviously the fates decided we needed to be taken down a peg or two, or at the very least reminded that we are nowhere near having this farming lark sorted, by dealing up a bit of a test.
We always knew the day would come where we would have to intervene in a birth; that day was Monday. Marilyn the goat had successfully delivered her first kid all on her own and I thought I had arrived just in time to witness the second joyous event. It soon became obvious I was just in time but rather than as a spectator, my help was needed. After I stopped running madly around the paddock muttering things like, “I’ll just get…” and “maybe if I…” and actually rolled my sleeves up and manned up, Marilyn and I made quite the formidable team.
As the main on-site Homesteader, I’m very happy to have the first difficult birth ticked off the list and for it to have been an unmitigated success despite my initial hand-wringing and audible whimpering.
What better reward for my haphazard midwifery skills than photographic evidence that, when the need arises, I can indeed step up and get all my goats, as well as my ducks, (and even the sheep if you squint) in a row.
It’s nice the menagerie throws me these figurative crumbs every so often as, were they to go all Animal Farm on me, we now have a very obvious leader.
As the previous Homestead was located by the sea, it was a no-brainer we Homesteaders would embrace the pirate life. We sung, we danced, we hung out at the local pirate den strumming the most piratical of instruments (the ukulele)…a couple of us even rode on the pirate ship one year in the annual Santa Parade. You may move geographically but, as The Natural Magic Pirates often say (usually to ukulele accompaniment), “You’ll always have a bit of the pirate in ya!”
As such, we are well aware that when Jolly Roger flutters, anarchy soon follows
so we’re keeping a very close eye on Amanda, the lamb bearing the flag of the pirates.