Everything is going well here. I am just rushing around outside, away from my computer, trying to get many things done: mowing at Betty’s for the sheep, weedwhacking weeds from my own fence lines to keep the charge hot, spreading manure, and splitting wood. A friend lent me his hydraulic wood splitter and I must finish up with it this morning to return it at noon.
Katika seems fine and I’m working to reduce the pressure in her giant bag, which is still swollen and hard. Yesterday I milked laboriously — laboriously because her udder is so engorged that the teats are short stubs, thimbles on a meaty beach ball, and only one finger can fit around them — and got eight gallons of colostrum. The piglets have quickly learned to come galloping and snorting when I lug the foamy buckets to their pen. In another day or so the milk will clear and I’ll be able to bottle it for the kitchen.
I have named the calf Phoenix, as she rose from the ashes of a week that had begun to feel surreal and hallucinatory from exhaustion. I call her Fee. She’s very cute.
More anon, and with luck I can borrow a camera to post pictures.