Pass the uterine clamps!

We've had a wuss of a winter. Lots of rain. More mud than snow. Today, we got real winter. Still snowing (over a foot so far), butt freakin' cold and, overall, a day for tucking in with a cuppa and knitting.

Not I. See, the drawback of a warm season is that the ewes went into heat a month early. While I could have taken the ram out and hoped that they'd cycle again in a month or two, the research doesn't support that as a viable theory. Also, by late summer, the girls are going deep into our wooded pasture to graze and they need a big, strong, pissed-off guy who doesn't have much to do but bang his head into things. Wanting them fed well, I left them together. And, well, I guess they got the job done. We're four lambs into the morning and number 2 is whining and rubbing on everything. I checked all the ewes. About half looked at me as if to say, "If you lift my stubby tail at look at my ass again, you're gonna get it" which means they are either frigid or have a while to go. But at least three are really looking close. My fingers are frozen. I am out of paper towels. I have burned coffee, let the stove go out, and forgotten that lunch is supposed to be served before 2. Forgive me for being ungrateful, Mother E - but just what the hell did I do to you?

Gotta go. I smell coffee syrup burning and the dog is barking which likely means she either wants to watch me slip in the snow and bust my arse again - or there's another little wet lamb down there. EEEgats! Put some bourbon in the coffee!