and now we're done

Luckily the ewes gave us a nice long break after Jasmine had her quads, to give us time to get them all on the right road.

They are big rowdies by now, sturdy little things and absolute terrors to all. Many of our ewes have little hoofprints on their backs, compliments of the gang of four, who seize any opportunity to play king of the mountain on objects at rest.

Almost three weeks to the day after they were born, the rest of the lambs arrived in what can only be described as a tidal wave. Several nights and early mornings were spent on a hay bale bed/chair, with the faithful dog for warmth, listening to a ewe's rythymic grunting and knowing when it was time to lend a hand.

It wasn't just the humans who were watching the show, however. We could have sold popcorn to the bystanders.

It was an exceptionally rough season, however, merciful only in the fact that we have a relatively small number of ewes. We have never had lambings and related issues as difficult and complicated as this, and we hope to never again. We are short on sleep and long on exhaustion and heartache, and quite honestly, it will be a while before I can even think of trying this again. If you ask me today, my answer would be a resounding no.

The only bright spot was the chance for our youngest son to shine. With the older two out of the way, more or less (they helped when they could, but they aren't around that much anymore), he stepped up to the plate in a big way. He was asked to deal with a lot of difficult things that all farm kids must deal with—the messiness of life beginning and life ending and being sometimes painful in between—but he never hesitated, and he never faltered. I could not be prouder of him, and I am holding on to that as the reason that we had to go through all this.

Because there has to be a reason.

Now we, and even more so the sheep and the lambs, can start to dream of fresh grass growing, and lambs growing along with it, and the chance for the cycle to spin its way through again.