Primo succumbed to the creeping crud on Saturday morning. This post could also have been titled "the bigger they are, the harder they fall" because he was really really sick with it; more so than the younger two.
We had our usual million plus one things planned for the weekend but most of them were quickly cancelled. (With the exception of travel soccer; travel soccer is seemingly non-negotiable.) I found myself in the unusual position of a weekend at home stretching before me. I laundered, I cleaned: it actually felt good to be able to attend to these mundane matters and get our lives back in order. Yesterday my LSH and I took care of some pressing winter-is-approaching farm chores, but we noticed how much longer it took us all by ourselves. As my LSH noted, a taste of things to come.
Primo is finally on the mend today and bored with staying home. I knew he was feeling much much better when he raced downstairs this morning dressed in work clothes, threw on his new Carhartt jacket and headed to the back pasture with his brother to check sheep rumps. One of the jobs we took care of yesterday was separating our sheep into breeding groups, and the boys already have visions of spring lambs prancing through their heads.