24/08/2026
🐑 A busy couple of weeks. Lambing's done, I've got twins on the bottle, and both sows have farrowed.
I forget every single year how fast it goes from nothing to everything. A fortnight of watching — same ewes, same unbothered look on their faces, wide as a bus and in no hurry at all — and then it's all over almost at once.
Every ewe's lambed now, and I've ended up with a set of twins on the bottle — which is its own small routine, and the reason I've stopped pretending I'll remember what happened on which day. And somewhere in the middle of all that both sows farrowed, so the block's gained a few new animals to keep track of. I find myself counting the bodies every time I'm out and about, just to make sure they're all still there.
The hard part now is what comes after. Four sets of twins on the ground within the same week, and you are, frankly, guessing. I've got the numbers recorded, but which lamb belongs with which ewe is another thing entirely.
Here's the thing I keep landing on, though. This is the only stretch of the year the block asks something of you that you can't reschedule. Fencing waits. The shed waits. That gate's been waiting since March. Lambing doesn't — it happens at its own hour, at its own pace, and all you get to decide is whether you're out there when it does.
Anyway. If you're in the thick of it too — go easy, wear the right coat, and know that the ones that go well look exactly like the ones that go badly right up until they don't.
☕ How's it going on your place?