Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Lamby Pen





These days time to write is dwindling. But with my new friend Poppy currently napping in a pile of straw I finally get a short break from the hours of dedication. This morning I spent a big chunk of time lamb-proofing my whole trailer to make sure Poppy could live with me. Mostly what this means is I went around cleaning all the spills she had made last night and mopped the floors a bit to make them less sticky. After all, it had only been a day of being with her and already I was getting fed up with jumping off the bed and stepping in a fresh pile of soggy wetness with my bare feet. With this in mind, I also decided to create a tiny pen to contain her spills. By taking two boards of wood I managed to section off an entire corner of my trailer which I then lined and filled with straw. (So far I don’t hear any bleats so I think it must be up to her standards!)

Monday, February 1, 2010

New roommate

How sweet the feeling of the warm spot a dog leaves behind when it’s been sleeping there all afternoon. I was able to recall this comforting sensation when my dog came for a visit to the farm yesterday. Today however, the black blob that I remember so clearly lying on my bed just a few hours ago has been replaced by a much smaller black blob. A tiny black lamb that is at this very moment wandering around my trailer, investigating the few square feet that make up my floor space and nudging inanimate objects in search of milk. Abandoned by her mother at birth, I have somewhat inadvertently accepted the responsibility for her well-being.

Today has been a momentous day; first I experienced what it’s like to be literally boxed in when I constructed 277 CSA boxes for Joaquina in the shop. Then, Rawley and I spent the entire day making chicken feed, carefully measuring out portions to keep a somewhat balanced 4:1 starch to protein ratio. But none of these new experiences came even close to the life that I have now been put in charge of. Every four hours my new wobbly-legged friend needs to be fed and I have already had to clean up quite a few “leaks”. Nonetheless I can already tell this will be more than worth it.

But I can already tell it will all be more than worth it.

 

Friday, January 29, 2010

Ready to pop

You will forgive the laundry list of events that follow but I am too scattered to focus on quality of writing, I just lived through what I imagine will be two of the most intense hours of my life: 

I initially went over to the sheep with Antonio on a pretty innocent mission, just to move a set of lambs and change some fences around. But what started out as a simple task ended up being much, much more. As we first clambered over the fence together we noticed that one black ewe had her water sac hanging from behind her so we made note that she would probably go into labor within the next hour. But as we were moving through our job we began to notice that the black sheep was experiencing a common case of pre-birthing confusion, thinking that she had already given birth and believing that the other ewe’s babies were hers. Recognizing this as a potential problem we immediately knew that we had to separate the white ewe and her twins so that everything would be in order. This, however, was trickier than you may think. The black ewe was so adamant that they were hers, that she made the process of isolating mother and lambs much more difficult than usual.

After successfully setting the white ewe and her twins apart we noticed that the black ewe had gone into labor. This was when the action really began. She lay on the ground pushing but as we watched her, another sheep gave birth right next to her without us noticing. This of course complicated the situation because we now had two mothers to watch out for. To add to the chaos we noticed that another ewe, Raquel, was lying on the ground and looking sickly. This added yet another layer of concern to the dilemma and we watched in fear as the black ewe finally began to deliver her baby. It was an unusual birth because the baby came out half way and then stopped, pawing at the ground as if walking while it was still partly inside its mother. I didn’t even notice I was nervous until Antonio told me he never knew I chewed my nails. I looked down and sure enough half of my nail had gone as I was watching all this happen.

After the baby finally came out, we noticed another tan ewe lying on the ground struggling. By this point we now had four mothers to watch out for and our heads swiveled around making sure to keep track of everything that was going on. While Raquel’s prolapsed uterus pulsated outside of her in an ominous-looking bulge of pink flesh, we looked nervously toward the struggling brown ewe and watched as the black ewe gave birth to yet another lamb. At the same time we noticed that the white ewe that had given birth just before had four huge bags of fluids hanging from her. 

There is a fine line between sitting back to let the sheep do their business naturally and waiting too long until things get out of control. Here at the farm the practice seems to lean more towards the passive side of the spectrum, mostly watching to see how things pan out. But with our concern mounting, we decided Raquel needed help. Luckily by this time Dru and Hallie had arrived so we all went inside and held Raquel down while Dru entered her and tried to find her lamb. After about fifteen unsuccessful minutes of poking around without finding much, we noticed that the tan ewe was having more problems than we had initially suspected. At this point, we had to make the decision to let go of Raquel and move on to the other ewe.

This capturing was more spectacular because unlike Raquel, this ewe was still able to walk, and even run. After careful stalking, Antonio was able to skillfully lasso her so that we could pin her down and see what was going on. Reaching in, Dru found that the baby was coming out with its head backwards but after some rearrangements, she finally pulled the lamb out. This little tiny one lay panting in the hay feebly as its mother lay exhausted next to it. We immediately went over to the baby and rubbed it clean of mucus until we realized the mother was not doing well at all. She lay almost motionless on the straw. Dread mounting Dru finally had the brilliant idea to check her again, only to find that there was another lamb stuck inside. After quickly pulling the second lamb out the mother perked up and even began to lick them. Our hopes lifted as we saw that she had returned to normal but we were once again crestfallen when the first baby stopped breathing.

I was surprised to find that the experienced faces around me mirrored my own complex mess of emotions. After all this time working with sheep, I don’t think even they could get used to it. Looking over at Antonio as he held down the ewe while Dru helped her give birth, I noticed him breathing heavily, his pale face completely absorbed in the moment. Later, Dru was on the verge of tears as she held the fragile body in her arms. So much emotion in such a short amount of time, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced so much at the same time.

Anyway, after this wake-up call I am really buckling in for a few more weeks of intensity. With a lot more mothers threatening to pop, a full moon rising, and a thin rain starting to fall down, we really have a triple threat of labor-inducing factors.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Rumsey

Almost all the best people I’ve come across in life I’ve met by accident. Last night a few of us drove over to Rumsey which is the closest town to the farm. To give you an idea of the type of town it is I can confidently say that if you blink, you might miss it. Entering Rumsey limits from the South side a sign reads: Rumsey, Population 92. However, driving the opposite direction, the North sign claims that Rumsey has only 52 people. In either case, let’s just say it’s not hard to know absolutely everybody in the town. Despite its size, Rumsey still has a proper town hall which I’ve been told has been used in the past for just about everything: wedding receptions, parties, movie showings, kids’ plays and even yoga classes. But on this particular Wednesday night, it was not for a party or a movie that we decided to come over, it was for the yoga. Apparently the teacher, Alex, recently moved to Guinda and being passionate about yoga was eager to start a class for all the farmers with their aches and pains. So eager, in fact, that she even offered to trade Full Belly vegetables for classes. (Free yoga, who could resist?)

Anyway…In that moment, experiencing an overwhelming sense of calm as I lay next to a handful of other farmers in child’s pose, I realized that the reason Alex had struck me so profoundly was that she had somehow stirred me. Having time to concentrate on nothing but my own breathing in those few seconds, I came to the somewhat obvious conclusion that it is these people you meet in life, those that inspire you or move you to become better, that are the most valuable.

And it's funny because once you put it into such few words it seems so obvious. Thinking about it is so simply now makes it seem like a silly realization but in any case, it was a milestone just the same.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Greenhouse

By now I am sure you are tired of hearing about every single new lamb or piglet that is born. But I just cannot help talking about life and more life because it is what this place is saturated with, pure life. I worked again in the greenhouse today. I don't think you can really imagine the feeling I got when I walked in unless you experience it. I opened the doors and immediately felt the comforting warm air of the greenhouse wrap around my body and the sweet smell of soil bathe my face. The doors had just creaked closed behind me when I saw infront of me a sight to behold. Every tray boomed with growth and tiny sprouts stood proudly in rows. Perky and fresh, their eager faces seemed almost expectant. What a feeling indeed, to witness all the seeds you had so carefully and painstakingly planted grow with such vigor.