My lambing jugs are empty. Again, it’s been almost a week of checking night and day. Again, when I lean over the gate my heavily pregnant ewes (this time Petunia, Magnolia, and Larch) just look up at me, munching hay in unconcern. No lambs.
Naturally not! It’s been unseasonably warm in the forties for several days. They are obviously waiting for the temperatures to drop below zero again tonight. What is a birth experience if it’s not death-defying?
The ewe lambs Belle and Trefoil, and behind them, the ram Royal, are bored with the whole thing.
Meanwhile, the five ewes who have lambed and their ten bouncing babies are happy in the big stall.
I woke up two days ago with a bad cold and uncontrollable coughing. I’ve been petrified that I would give the virus to DH (who left this morning at 2:30 AM for a two-week business trip to China) or to Lucy (who is racing all week). Other than that, I am not too worried. Though my brain feels slow and thick, and I’m sleepy with antihistamines, I have plenty of mindless tasks on my list.