Nothing yanks me out of bed as fast as the sound of lamb in distress. That's what I thought I heard at 5:30 a.m. today. Patten Hill is socked in by mist this morning, making it hard to do a head count. But when I arrived in the pasture (above) all was well. But the farm looks like a different place in the fog. Late yesterday afternoon Holly and I had moved the entire lamb flock with mothers and Crackerjack to the open barn pasture on the west side of the road – the lambs' first experience  crossing the street.
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