Farm Fresh Blog

     It's becoming a Christmas tradition - lambing. What better way to get to the heart of the Christmas Story. While most people are in church, Other Half and I have sleeves pushed up, delivering lambs in the cold mud.

     After this summer's drought, we shouldn't complain, but lambing in the mud during a cold drizzly rain was never on my list of "things to do before I die."

On the other hand, babies are healthy, mommas are healthy, we have rubber boots and a washing machine, so all is good. Our families are also getting used to the familiar excuse,

"We're running late. A ewe is in labor."

Last year Holly was born on our way out the door . . .

This year brought us Christmas Carol . . .

     Thankfully we were home when Ma went into labor because Carol was stuck. Other Half adjusted her massive, unladylike shoulders, and "pop!" she slid right out.  Actually it sounded more like "SLOP!" she slid out and hit the mud. When she stood up she was as big as a two week old baby!

     I'm sooo glad that when I was whittling down the flock this summer I decided to keep these ewes. Rather than keeping the better bred ewes, I chose to keep the core stock of girls that I knew were experienced mothers. Now as they lamb in the cold rain, I appreciate the fact that these ladies know what they're doing, and they trust us. Ma saw us coming yesterday, and said to me,

"I might need just a little help adjusting this bowling ball. Assistance please!"

A few minutes later Carol hit the mud and we backed off to let Ma do her thing. A few hours later, Carol was bouncing around the hay, playing with another baby. It was a good Christmas Day.

     And so even though the rest of the world was snug and warm in church or with their families on Christmas, I didn't feel any less close to God by spending the day in a shed full of animals. If anything, the miracle of new life on Christmas brings me closer.