Well, Carla is back, hale and hearty after her not too pleasant brush with Montezuma’s revenge and we are closing in on French Woofer Camille’s last week. How fast time flies when you are having fun ? The last ewe lambed safely and has a cute little ewe lamb as proof of her dalliance with Rodney the ram last Autumn. It would appear that persistence and humanity have paid off with the two tiny lambs currently trying to persuade number 20 that Moms do need a sense of responsibility (preferably accompanied by an ample udder). The team have continued to feed the twins on a two hourly (ish) schedule, tediously syringing goat milk through the drench, hand feeding miniscule grains of protein rich grain and washing mucky butts. This morning, a quick peep into the stall was cause to congratulate ourselves, Cammy and Carla ( the four legged version) the premature twins were avidly chewing on moms breakfast, three heads all buried in the bowl and little tails wagging. A later check on the worrisome threesome confirmed that both were working hard to make the milky bar operate and thankfully it appeared that number 20 was not only standing but co operating with the whole (apparently unsavoury) process.
Big brother John, currently on his weekend of rest and recuperation has put the hours in the woodpile behind him as an experience that might be best forgotten and this week has turned his attention to other projects on Greg’s ever growing “must do” list. In a rainstorm ( another one... and it was apparently almost tropical in Dolgethlli, Wales ) big brother climbed the ladder and cleared the overflowing drainpipes that have clearly been host to a flourishing bed of very healthy moss for umptyump years. Drainpipes evidently do not work too well in deluge conditions breeding beds of moss and Niagra style waterfalls had become the new barnyard hazard ready to catch the unwary. Thanks John. On to the next mission.... he is now turning his hand to tyling in the barn kitchen.( By the time he leaves, mucking out the stalls will be a blessing...maybe. smile)
Daisy, Molly, Hol-ley Rodney the ram and macho the buck share a pasture and all co habit quite amicably, the band of five gently amble off up Cow Lane and out to the pasture each morning searching for the lush and apparently plentiful Spring grass. Sadly, the abundance of grass has resulted in all five becoming hellions coming home to the barn at night. No longer an excited rush for the pitiful bucket of grain used as a successful lure throughout the Winter months, when you have bellies rounded with grass, co operation is unnecessary and the walk home is apparently pointless . Calls and whistles fall on deaf ears, even Bran’s valiant efforts to roust the stubborn gang are met with blatant disregard. They watch us…from the far end of the pasture and, generally, miserable, dripping wet cold and with growing impatience we watch them. It’s a Mexican standoff, threats of filet mignon, hamburger and castration are disregarded and ultimately ( and sadly now routinely!) the frustrated cowboy turns mechanised, Bran turns “quad hoodie” and together determinedly and resolutely they head off up Cow Lane to bring back the errant band of reprobates.
Time to go and feed the workers. Another batch of cookies are I think being inhaled faster than I can bake them and it’s hamburgers for dinner. Better get to work. Take care, keep safe, M
Big brother John, currently on his weekend of rest and recuperation has put the hours in the woodpile behind him as an experience that might be best forgotten and this week has turned his attention to other projects on Greg’s ever growing “must do” list. In a rainstorm ( another one... and it was apparently almost tropical in Dolgethlli, Wales ) big brother climbed the ladder and cleared the overflowing drainpipes that have clearly been host to a flourishing bed of very healthy moss for umptyump years. Drainpipes evidently do not work too well in deluge conditions breeding beds of moss and Niagra style waterfalls had become the new barnyard hazard ready to catch the unwary. Thanks John. On to the next mission.... he is now turning his hand to tyling in the barn kitchen.( By the time he leaves, mucking out the stalls will be a blessing...maybe. smile)
Daisy, Molly, Hol-ley Rodney the ram and macho the buck share a pasture and all co habit quite amicably, the band of five gently amble off up Cow Lane and out to the pasture each morning searching for the lush and apparently plentiful Spring grass. Sadly, the abundance of grass has resulted in all five becoming hellions coming home to the barn at night. No longer an excited rush for the pitiful bucket of grain used as a successful lure throughout the Winter months, when you have bellies rounded with grass, co operation is unnecessary and the walk home is apparently pointless . Calls and whistles fall on deaf ears, even Bran’s valiant efforts to roust the stubborn gang are met with blatant disregard. They watch us…from the far end of the pasture and, generally, miserable, dripping wet cold and with growing impatience we watch them. It’s a Mexican standoff, threats of filet mignon, hamburger and castration are disregarded and ultimately ( and sadly now routinely!) the frustrated cowboy turns mechanised, Bran turns “quad hoodie” and together determinedly and resolutely they head off up Cow Lane to bring back the errant band of reprobates.
Time to go and feed the workers. Another batch of cookies are I think being inhaled faster than I can bake them and it’s hamburgers for dinner. Better get to work. Take care, keep safe, M
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