A short break

With lambing over, we left the farm in Ann's capable hands, the dogs with Robert John, and headed off to Turkey for a break.  A few observations:

#1 - don't climb over the straw bales and drop down into the gap in the corner unless you are tall enough to get back out again, or if you do, have a phone with you (fortunately Ann is resourceful and eventually used the fork stuck into the straw as a ladder)

#2 - if you are going to groom a husky, do it outside (thanks Rob)

#3 - it's impossible to be manly when a ruddy great big snake crosses the path in front of you (Ian M), or when you come across pretty much any kind of oversized insect (me) - I don't care what it is, just make it go somewhere else

 #4 - bats can do the breaststroke reasonably well, but do eventually need rescuing from the middle of the Mediterranean

Time to slow down

It's almost over - just one recalcitrant ewe hanging on to the bitter end, wandering the sheds when she could be outside sunning herself and her lambs in the lush grass (needless to say it's an Exmoor horn; she may look cute, but the devious madam is a cake-head).  And of course tame lambs are a-plenty...there are always tame lambs.

It was bleeding hard work this year and I'm not sure we have come down from it yet.  Between the two farms we lambed almost 600 ewes, some days no sooner had we got pens cleared than they were full again.  It all seems like a bit of a dream now (not exactly a nightmare, but you know, one of those where you wake up slightly disturbed and disoriented, and start looking for missing lambs under the bedclothes).

I have special personal thanks to Sally, for being calm and the best possible lambing partner; to Soggy and Daiz for their hard work, usual dippiness, and the minions (guess who had never seen Despicable Me?); and to Ian and Farmer Rob, for trusting me to do the right thing when I am elbow-deep up a sheep's back end.  We've had 'em every-which-way - my personal favourite, just a tail hanging out.  Also to Sonny for running amok, and the other poor dogs for their forebearance.

Of course, we can't forget Ann - who has some sanity issues in that she likes getting up at 2am, then 4am, then 6am to do the night shift.  We are extremely grateful!

Without further blather, a few photos (unfortunately, I don't have one of the rat Daisy sat on and killed, but that was one impressive bit of vermin control)...

"What are you looking at?"  (One of our Exmoors - they make nice mothers when they focus...)

The Lamb Express out to the fields ("Quit pushing, I've banged my nose!")

Time to find mum again, who incidentally, is only interested in grass.

The day team

Fred tries to hide - a dog with no responsibilities.

[Our friend Simon popped into the sheds one afternoon after a run and happened upon various gruesome sights ... namely a difficult birth, a wet adoption, and a generous amount of amniotic fluid, goop (the official term), and general wetness.  He then witnessed a double make their way into the world without too much drama, and was dead chuffed...so in honour of his first birth, and because we were all a bit shed-crazy, we accidentally named the lambs instead of giving them numbers.]

Introducing Cathy and Simon