Yesterday I found this pile of lambs napping just inside the barn door after a very busy morning.  A recent discovery has caused a flurry of excitement within the fold.   With the milder days I have been allowing the lambs access to the small yard adjacent to the birthing barn.  Their initial response to setting foot outdoors for the first time is one of amazement and tentative curiosity.    Although they have been able to see outside through the panel in the barn doorway for weeks, clearly it had never occured to them that they could ever actually go there. 
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I stepped outside the birthing barn this week to tend to the rest of the flock during this warm, dry weather.  Time for Butch and Sundance, our Angora goats, to move to their summer quarters at the top of the hill.  Since it’s quite a hike and the boys are still wearing their heavy winter coats,  we all took a little ride. Getting them into the Highlander took some bribery.  Bananas were involved.  Once on board, they seemed to enjoy the ride.  Surprisingly, getting them out of the car took some coaxing.   Myopic and in dire need of shearing (next
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Two thirds way through lambing season, my brain is a bit fogged from long hours in the barn, lack of sleep and sensible meals, and a general sense of disconnection from the outside world.  Mental fuzziness really affects decision making – but not always in a good way – as proven by the events of this weekend where I made a decision that seemed like a good idea at the time . . . . . As we had suspected, once we had started bottle feeding Issey, his mother wouldn’t have him back.  The dilemma – where to keep one
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Good news!  At 12:30 am  Issey was on his feet and looking for something to eat.   He had his first bottle feeding while standing beside me in the pen and continues to grow stronger and more alert.   He’s getting a lot of attention from us, but his mom is not showing much interest in him, although she seems to sense he belongs to her.  It looks like we’ll have a bottle lamb,  unless she has a change of heart.   At least his brother seems bonded to him – from all the time spent together under the heat lamp. Issey having
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I love barn mornings.  First light, soft and diffused,  filters in through the clerestory on the barn’s east side. Clustered in little pods, the lambs nestle in the straw, bathing in warmth. Light fills the space.  Lots of languid stretching as the lambs shake and rise, some more reluctantly than others . . . .and within minutes the barn comes to life.   Ewes paw and call for grain.  Lambs begin to rustle and race.   It’s one of my favorite moments.   .  . . Although this morning, one lamb did not rise. Issey was second in a pair of twins born
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My day started at 2 a.m. with the arrival of a pair of Cormo ram lambs, Valentino and Armani.   By dinner time, another six lambs had landed:  Dolce & Gabbana, Calvin & Blass,  Polo & Hilfiger joined newcomers Lagerfeld, Karan, Burberry and McQueen.   The idea to name this year’s lambs for fashion designers came to me while watching this season’s Project Runway program on Bravo.  I don’t want much t.v. at all, and trust me, I am no fashionista, but I became hooked on this show last year and tuned in each week to watch Heidi Klum announce who was
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It’s been a busy twelve hours.  I’m short on sleep so I’ll show now and tell more a little later . . . . Pansy & new lambs:  Pucci & Gucci Curious flock checks out the new arrivals: Above, Donatella (using brother Gianni as a pillow). A smug looking Hugo, almost a week old. No pics of my latest arrivals, born around 6 this morning.  Buttercup delivered a ewe and ram: Chanel and Dior. By now, you have probably figured out this year’s name theme. ********************************************************************************************* copyright 2008, Barbara Parry, Foxfire Fiber & Designs.  All rights reserved.
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My week began with a barn check at day break.    The sound of rustling straw via the audio monitor pulled me from sleep, so I decided to head on over to the barn for a peek at the ewes.  It’s early April, maple syrup season is winding down and my barn, brimming with expectant mothers, is still void  of lambs.  It feels a little weird. An inspection of the birthing ward revealed nothing out of the ordinary.   As the sun filled the barn the girls were shuffling back and forth along the feeders, eyeing me, hoping for an early
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