Over the course of two weeks we graduated from wee, petite, miniature bouquets nestled in spice jars and extract bottles, to full blow bounty of blossoms. The pulmonaria (which sounds so much prettier than “Lungwort”) has done amazingly well this year. I want to divide it up and put a little everywhere.
It’s only May and already the garden has gotten the better of me. I can’t keep up. Also I have a certain little someone who really wants nothing more then to be permitted to stand right in the middle of my garden beds. She climbs in, and stands perfectly still, dead center, looking over her shoulder, waiting for someone to notice and frantically come running over to scoop her up and out…lettuce seedlings trampled under foot, radishes flattened. Today she discovered the joys of picking all the flowers off the strawberry plants. How could I have forgotten what a challenge this could be? I’m trying to channel my inner Farmer Dan. Years ago, we were members of a wonderful CSA and one day the head farmer stood causally by, watching as three children ran right through a freshly planted field. Their mother was mortified. He just smiled and shrugged and explained that it was factored in. That they planted in a way that assumed kids at play and the occasional dog digging something up. He really seemed sincere, but I have to wonder if inside it wasn’t eating at him just a little? All that work!
We have a lamb now. Right. So, uhm, that happened. Though I’m still not really clear on how. We were visiting a friend and the new baby lambs and there was this day old one being rather violently rejected by her mother. She was crying so pitifully that it was making my milk let down. The scale was tipping and she was rapidly running out of the reserve she needed to survive. Our friend had to leave for work. I offered a to help out if she ever needed a hand, thinking that you know, we could come down and take a feeding shift from time to time and before I knew what was happening, Iain had a little black lamb in his arms and Elijah had a jar of sheep colostrum and they were headed back to our place. She’s 2.5 weeks old now and what with middle of the night feedings, and milking sheep and all, it’s been a bit intense at times.
Steve was a rather perturbed (“Wait a minute, so I don’t even get consulted before we move barnyard animals into the house?“). This is a very valid gripe. In my defense, what was happening hadn’t totally dawned on me and I was still rather befuddled by the what, how and why when he got home.
She’s just fostering here. She’ll go back to live with the flock once she’s weaned, but it’s been agreed that she will remain the children’s sheep. They have been working very hard to care for her.
Her name is Licorice. Seraphina calls her “Bah-bah”. They follow each other around. I really couldn’t quite say who is following whom. Bah-bah will bend down and nibble something Fina will nibble next to her. Bah-bah will run up to me bleating to be petted on the head. Sera will follow a few steps behind, looking up with an expectant “Bah?” and then run away happily once she’s been petted as well.
She’s still a lap-lamb. Though she’ll be too big for that before long.