It’s peaceful on the farm this time of year. It’s our favorite time The lambs have been weaned from their mothers. The new ewes and ram have settled into their pastures. The two ewes, who had late lambs and are still nursing, are quietly taking good care of their little ones. Ruby Slippers is growing up and eating grass like a real sheep. (She’ll always be my baby, though). The big dogs haven’t run away in a while. Even the pygmy goats are industriously eating their way through the shrubby bushes in the West Pasture and you can see the grass. All is well.
Bill sold all the alpacas. He wants to concentrate on sheep now. I miss watching the alpacas’ graceful beauty but I feel good about who we sold them to. The new owner spins and knits and will be able to do something with their luscious fleece.
When we are not having thunderstorms, (which we’ve had a lot lately), Bill and I like to sit on the deck and watch the sheep graze. I know to some people that would be the most boring thing in the world to do. It’s our favorite thing to do now. I thank God for leading us to this farm and for knowing it was exactly what we needed at this stage of our life. It’s so peaceful. And Amen.
I went to Bible Study Fellowship this year for the study of Moses. At one point in the study of Deuteronomy, we came across this verse: “Today I have given you the choice between life and death, between blessings and curses…Oh, that you would choose life, so that you and your descendants may live”, Deut. 30:19. Bill and I will always choose life. We’ve chosen it for ourselves when we committed our lives to Jesus Christ. And we choose life on our farm anytime there is an animal who is having a hard time thriving.
I’ve already written about Ruby, the triplet lamb that we had to bottle feed because she couldn’t get enough milk from her mama. I’m happy to say she now weighs 16 pounds.She is weaned from the bottle and is eating enough grass and grain to survive. And she has been moved to a pasture with other lambs so she can feel like a sheep again.
We had our third cria (baby alpaca) born. She was beautiful with chocolate brown fleece. It was the oddest thing, none of the alpacas would claim her as their baby. None of them tried to nurse her, none of them licked her. Poor baby! So we stepped in and gave her a bottle every 2 hours. She wouldn’t drink it at first, then she started drinking it all. We thought she was going to make it, but, alas, she didn’t. We were so sad! We hate it when one of our animals dies. We do our best to provide all that they need to thrive. Even so, some farm deaths are inevitable. But we’ll always choose life when we are given a chance.
Last Friday was the day we took the lambs away from the ewes. That sounds heartless, but it was time. You’ve never heard such crying from the mothers and their babies. They kept it up for two days. By the third day, the crying was sporadic as they learned that they could fill their tummies with grass and grain; that life went on; and that all was well.
We had our strong, athletic, 15 year old grandson help us and it about did him in. Lifting 22 of those 30-50 pound lambs over the fence and into the correct pasture is no job for the faint of heart. We also wormed them and gave them a CDT shot. I’ve gotten pretty good at giving them shots. That’s my job. I can’t do the heavy lifting.
Now, a week later, all is peaceful on our little farm again. The sheep are grazing contentedly in the pasture; the trauma of last week is forgotten. Our sore muscles have healed; and happy days are here again.