Yesterday morning I did half the chores then drove in the cooking oil car to the village, picked up my Mother-in-Law (The Matriarch) and drove her to a bigger town to catch the bus to Chicago for the weekend at 7.30am. Before I left I fed everyone who needed feeding and at the very last I took Kupa his feed and replenished his water bowl with rain water from my enamel jug . He tocked tocked quietly as he moved his body for me.
Mama was quiet so off we went. The whole trip took an hour and a half.
The first thing we did when we got back was run into the house to turn the coffee machine on, then went back out into the field to look at Mama. By now I had The Matriarchs dog with me too. So all four of us (two dogs, one sheep and I) were stood in The Corridor Paddock, resting on one foot, heads to the side in the early morning sun, staring at Mama, who stared back, when we heard this enormous fog horn honk from the barn.
All four of our heads snapped towards the barn doors. Then in a moment of pure comedy the dogs looked at each other, then they both looked at Mama. Who clearly said to the enquiring stares. Not me! I only ever do silent ones.
Kupa wanted OUT! Right now. Honk! We all turned and ambled towards the barn, Mama was only allowed as far as the gate, so she had to stick her head right through the bars to watch us process into the back of the barn. Two cats and a rooster were sitting on separate barn gates watching the peacock. And there he was, pacing in his pen, his tail held stiffly above the straw like heavy tissue, his head up, literally bristling with annoyance. The term high dudgeon came to mind. I was making him late. His gate was still shut. I opened his little door and without further ado he swished past, like a very proper matron in hooped skirts, turning slightly so as not to touch dirty urchins on the street, past me, past the dogs, past the cats, past the rooster, past the sheep’s head and out into the sun. Thank you very much he did not say.
Good morning. It is another fine and glorious still morning. Mama looked like she was thinking about lambing yesterday and I even went so far as to thaw the colostrum that I have waiting in the freezer. But then after pacing and carrying on, she lay back down, tucked her feet in tidily and went back to sleep.
She came to meet me every time I checked her in the night. So she is still all in one piece. And I have put the lambing bag back in the corner. I have decided that TonTon can carry his own torch and I will carry another one on our midnight jaunts. He never lights the right places!!
This morning TonTon and I will zoom to the Retirement Home for a visit with The Old Codger. Mama’s Minders are all on high alert. Then back to work!
Have a lovely day.
PS As it is still a little cool this morning and we have a busy day ahead I thought I might have this for breakfast!..