Saturday, 18 March 2017

Lambing 2017 Day 8 - Saturday

I have a terrible confession to make about this day on the farm.  On Friday night, I went to bed, and I set my alarm for 3.30 as usual.  However, I awoke at 7.15am, went out to the toilet to commune with nature, and, when I returned to my bed, suddenly thought I could not remember doing my middle of the night check.  I checked my ‘phone, and, to my horror, I had a missed alarm.  Because I had turned my ‘phone onto silent after setting the alarm, it had gone off silently.  Ashamed and alarmed, lest anything had happened, I hastened downstairs and made my guilty to confession to Mrs Farmer over the kettle.

It was the wrong night to have missed the alarm.  The sheep in pen 2 was still rejecting her lamb, and butting it about it a bit, so it had nearly closed eyes, and was a bit bruised.  And, when doing the midnight check, Sir had discovered that the prolapse sheep had delivered a second lamb, which was well licked etc., but she was rejecting it and quite viciously butting it.  She had shown no signs at all of having a second lamb, and we felt it prudent not to inspect for one, given the amount of gynæcological interference she had already suffered.  Sir put her in the stocks – which would have been useful for both sheep, but we only had one.  The stock is normally only used every four years or so.

During the day, I took a trip into Newlyn with Mrs Farmer, to get some belly pork slices for supper.  The young butcher was on duty and only had seventeen slices available, rather than the required eighteen for nine people.  Had the old butcher with twinkly eyes been available, he would have gone off to the ‘fridge and found something for us.  We went home for morning coffee, before considering some more lamb napping.  The New Mrs rang up while the kettle was boiling, and was updated.  A few minutes later, the Young Mrs called, having heard from the New Mrs that there was not enough pork belly for the evening meal.  As the Young Mrs and her family have prodigious appetites, this was a matter of no small concern, but Mrs Farmer assured her that there would be enough for everyone, and that she and Sir both generally only had one slice of pork.

The Young Mrs reluctantly assured, we went out and lamb-napped a few sheep around, and kept a general eye on the rejecting mothers.

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