Mia is doing OK, though she lost her lambs. After I wrote to you yesterday she gave birth to two stillborn tiny prem lambs. The crying from that wee sheep was harrowing. I shifted her and Mama out of the middle pen after the worst of the messy business was over and put them in the North pen, she just stood at the gate crying to go back. But she had to be somewhere very clean after all that. 
Then I worked as we waited for John to come home so he could drive the red truck with Mia in the stock trailer to the vets. The wind kept building from the South. The North side in the lee of the wind was eerily calm. It was like the North side of the barn was another world. 
I cleaned and toddled about in the barn for the rest of the morning so I could watch Mia closely. As time passed the noise from the winds became horrendous. I shut the South doors and all I could hear was the banging and crashing of doors as they strained at their leashes. In and out crash, in and Out crash. The barn was literally rocking. Mia and Mama snoozed and poor wee Mia healed.
Later I led Mia into a pen of her own so that I could transfer her to the trailer later. Though I was not sure how I was going to do this in gale force winds. Then I realised that all the animals had come back into the barn: the calves and Daisy were inside from their playgrounds, Hairy McLairy standing at Daisy’s shoulder. All the roosters, (I have caught all but one last elusive hen) guineas, dogs, cats, the lot, they were all in the barn with me. All standing listening. Listening to the weather build. The wind hitched up and screamed and the big doors bowed inwards like a sides of wooden ship. The small doors smacked and shuddered. There was a huge smash and every head swivelled to Daisy’s stall. Daisy looked around and back at us as if to say. My door just smashed into its own lintel. It is bent. Broke. Jammed sideways. Wrecked. Hey. I can’t get out. You will have to let me in with the calves so that I can get to water. Mia stood in her lonely pen wide eyed. The roosters settled back down. 
Then I realised that I could not open my own South doors either, the winds were now gale force, opening a door into that wind was now impossible. I could hear things smashing at the walls from the outside. There was a constant ring like the halyards at the top of a mast, the percussion section was out of control. To leave the barn I would have to go out Mama’s North door walk through the paddock, back around the barn and go from there. I walked out that way to go to the house but when I rounded the corner I was flattened by the wind. I must have walked into a particularly strong gust. I was literally forced to the ground and TonTon flew back into me. We crouched and scuttled back around the barn, along the wall and back inside the barn and so I stayed. It felt safer in here. Though the barn was rocking like a boat that special softness sat with us all.
Mia in her little South pen began to wail for Mama. 
She began to cry like a cat. The little sheep, her miscarriage forgotton, started taking running leaps at the gate in the little pen, standing on her hind legs like Pan looking for a way out. Baaing loudly over the thrashing of the wind. Why am I locked up? Why am I locked up? WAAAHY!!
We listened as the wind rose another decibel and watched the big doors curve in and out. Like they were a great bellows sucking in and out. Let me OUT! Called Mia. The walls are going to fall on me! I want my MAMA!
So I sat on a bale of straw and called the vets. I told her that Mia had cleaned up, that she was trying to jump out of her stall, leaping about on her hind legs trying to find a way out, trying to stuff her sheepy body through the slats in the gate. Yes, Eating and drinking, peeing and pooing, and what about this wind? She said it was probably not a good idea to bring a trailer across the prairie to them , the winds over there were even worse. I wondered how they knew that. She asked a few more questions, the answers satisfied her so I was told to give her another antibiotic injection. And come in tomorrow to pick up a few more meds. Stay home, they said. Fine with me, I said.
And then we (We being my animals and I as they all go quiet and eavesdrop when I am on the phone) called John at work to say no need to come home early. No vets. He said, what is that noise. We are in a maelstrom. I said. I think we are off to Kansas. Well, it is not that windy over here he said.
Get off the phone already and let me OUT wailed Mia. (well almost everyone goes quiet when I am on the phone). Well, she sounds back to normal, John said. Relief smiling through his voice.
So I gave in and led her back to the North pen with her Mother. And we waited out the storm in the barn. Mia took up her life’s work again and gave TonTon the hurry up. 
He was just checking to see if she was better!
And just in case you missed how truly enormous mama is getting. 
It was noisy but nice in there. Someone does not like the spotlight.
Good morning. It is almost dawn again. At my 4AM check this morning Mia was sat out in the yards with Mama, bright, alert and very much alive. I cannot believe she survived. She is a very hardy wee sheep. Miserable to lose her lambs. Enough said I think.
And thank YOU. Your response to our first crisis was brilliant. Strong, sensible and comforting. I thought long and hard about whether I should show you the darker side of farming. Whether this would put you all off reading. Whether the little farmy blog would collapse under the weight of it. But I decided that as you trust me to give you an image from yesterday, you also trust me to tell the truth without sensation but with feeling. We are allowed Feelings. So thank you.
And judging by all the fantastic comments and messages I received over the last while, I was right. You are all as pragmatic as you are gentle. You did not shy away. It is life after all. And as we sat out the terrible winds in the barn yesterday afternoon I thought about how I was not alone out there. I constructed sentences and ordered my thoughts to tell you all about our day, and this my friends, is a wonderful gift to a solitary farmer girl.
And as a few of you said, to farm sustainably we can only have a very small number of animals because we only have a small amount of land. I am not dealing with a flock of thirty or forty. I am dealing with a flock of three. This makes it tougher as it is all so intensely personal. Our decisions are up front and sometimes bloody and they are not softened by numbers.
I sat out there in the barn and thought about the pioneer women, who only had one cow and a couple of sheep or pigs and limited feed and too many kids and I thought about how they also must have grieved if they lost an animal. How they must have bashed the pans onto the stove and scrubbed the table extra hard with their jaws set and their eyes shining with hidden tears. And wondered how they were going to manage now. Ours is not such a difficult life.
Thankfully we are all managing just fine for today. Dawn is here and the wind is howling again but in a slightly less malicious tone. So lets start another day and see what it brings. And stay observant. We must all keep our heads up and watch hard at the life around us.
Good morning!
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
125 responses to “Straight to the good news”
I am so sorry about the lambs and little Mia’s sorrow which certainly added to your own. But isn’t is amazing that she is doing as well as she is. My thoughts and prayers are with you. You mist have been scared stiff sitting in the barn and listening to the wind do its damage. Thank God none of you were injured.
Morning Lois, I hope things are going well for you too, it is always lovely to hear from you, it certainly is amazing that Mia is doing OK, I did not think she would make it.. hopefully she will avoid any infection and will come through OK.. c
You are so able to write reality without an flattering soft focus, but with a comforting soft edge. I am thankful for Mia’s recovery, and sorry for the loss of your lambs. Mostly I am thankful for sharing your day through your words – thanks!
Thank you Carol-Anne. I am lucky to have such a rich landscape to work with out here.. so much to see in such a tiny space!! c
The winds of change…? To be in your barn , warm with animals sweet breath, alone with your thoughts…not such a bad place to weather a storm or two,,, I am happy to hear both have passed.
Mamma IS huge. Holy! give poor Mia a hug. take care.
Jess
Morning Jess, If Mia could hide two wee lambs in there and we could not see any indication of them i dread to think what we have merrily growing mama’s belly. there is some work ahead i think! c
It’s good to here that Mia’s better and that you all avoided a trip to Kansas via Oz 😉
Morning Mad! Yes with a wee bit of luck and some good management I think Mia will do OK.. c
So glad to hear Mia is okay after the whole
ordeal. Such resilience is truly inspiring. And certainly puts life into perspective. Hugs though for what you endured so bravely. Life is truly precious and your posts continue to keep us impressed with your dedication and love for these animals. All the best Celi.
Give Momma and especially Mia a hug from me.. poor little lass, how sad and unexpected. Thanks for letting us know everyone is all right now, especially you.. all alone in those winds. I was afraid the story was going to end in a twister! xoxo Smidge
I thought so too, esp after it knocked me to my knees like that, I have never been outside in a gust like that, Of course the barn would be the last place to hide if there was a tornado!! c
I am so sorry about the baby lambs. Thank you for the story. What an experience and what a weather.
March is a strange month for weather, it is as though we are in a state of flux.. it can go either way on a daily basis.. c
Damn! Again, you are so good at this writing business! You are the only writer I know that can make me think of sheep other than as mutton. And the wind and the barn and all the other stuff. I’d give a lot for a 10th of your talent. Publish! Share! HF
Morning John, I long to publish but I don’t know how. How does one do that without being beaten down by rejection.. and thank you for your words.. it means a lot.. c
If I were you, I would send my blog address to every magazine about cooking, farming, and animals. I would ask them to kindly check out your blog. If they don’t, they won’t bother with a rejection notice. If they do, I’m convinced at least one of them and maybe several of them will ask to see more from you. I’ve been a writer for 30 years and I know talent. You have it. Getting it recognized by publishers is tough, but can be done. You won’t know the out come if you never try. HF
You are very right Mr Faulkner, I will never know until I try and fear is my only enemy!! I had not thought of sending my blog address to magazines, this is a good idea.. c
Oh, poor mother Mia and to think of those darling lambs and you grieving. What a difficult day for you, from the loss to the windstorm. As always, you managed to see the positive (in Mia’s survival) and to share this trying day in words that resonate with a depth and passion that can come only from a gifted writer like you.
Morning Audrey, I hope Mia does continue to recover. I was very lucky John was home that afternoon to help me. He is almost never here in the day time, yet there he was with a day off, and me needing him to hold her.. so lucky! c
What a day, C! But seems like you got through it the best you could, and all the animals helped, in their own way. Hopefully the weather has quieted down a bit.
Maybe tomorrow the weather will quieten down, the wind is still the loudest thing in the room! morning Ksenia.. c
I hear this so much lately…bad things happen to good people…and animals, I shall add. Poor Mia. I’m so very sorry she lost her lambs…I’ve forgotten, were these her first? I was so relieved to read on FB that she was okay and I kept thinking what a harrowing day you were having. She looks so cute with her head sideways through those slats…she may be wee, but she sure is resilient, thank goodness! Wishing you a peaceful and joyful day, Cecilia!
Yes she was too young and small to be pregnant so i kept her away from the ram, but twice she did get through when mama was in with him, as she hates to be parted from Mama. I was hoping we had gotton away with it. I need a bigger flock so I can more easily separate groups. A group of one is difficult to manage.. morning betsy.. c
As usual, I gobble up every word of your ongoing drama, whilst intermittently smiling, worrying and hoping for the best.
Roger I am always glad to know that you are reading and gobbling!! c
So sorry to hear about Mia. Poor thing. Glad to hear she’s ok. What a pretty girl! Something similar happened to my favorite goat, Angel, when I was a child. I will never forget my Mother working tirelessly to save the two babies. One baby survived. And although one baby lived, I was devastated it would grow up without its twin. You see, I’m a twin. The two babies looked identical and as a seven year old I thought they were twins. Bambi was smothered with love and barely knew she was a goat.
Karista what a story, amazing how when we are little an idea can take root.. I bet that wee goat thought she still was a twin with you two looking after her.. c
Celi, you are incredible! To be all alone with no vet, no husband, little Mia being in distress and the wind threatening to take down the barn, and keep it together with such courage would give the pioneer woman cause to place you in an honorary position in their club. The loss of the lambs is bad enough, but to have to hear Mia’s pain and feel so helpless would render the hardiest person a pile of tears.
You have just done an incredible job. Just incredible!
Thank you aimee though really in the moent we just plough on don’t we, and the barn has a quality that I cannot find a word for but it feels like things should work out in there.. c
Sorry to hear about the loss of the lambs, but good to hear that Mia is doing well. That certainly is a tough job you have there celi, and your post brought that home. Now for a period of uneventful not a lot, and yes that means Daisy too!!
I’m exhausted having read that report on the wind, the sheer noise of it all, the power if it, I can see how it takes the stuffing out of you.
Wind is exhausting, you must get some on the sea side though, that endless blowing! c
You’re right there!
I meant to say you are right there, it can play havoc on the allotment…!