So, this morning the shepherd comes out to throw hay around because the rapidly becoming spoiled ewes are lined up watching the house for any sign of life and OUR FEEDER IS EMPTY ! EMPTY !! This is neglect !!!
Bob the Genius says "calm down Benny - she can't lift 80 lb bales anymore and the Big Guy is not home this week. She has to throw hay in sections for us until the weekend." Well, it may not be neglect, but it does mean that I have to scrounge for hay on the ground with the riff raff aka the lambs. Becca the Brain Trust says that since I stand over my share of the hay like Colossus of Rhodes and am about as easy to move, that there clearly isn't any problem with starvation. No one understands me.
Then there is Butthead, whose feeder is still full, and who has spotted the ewes and thinks they should be with him. Thus the huge gatepost on his pasture is beginning to lean outward as he thumps his little tiny brain against it again and again. Don't tell him I said that - he has horns - big ones. Its amazing this place runs at all given the current management...
Anyway, back to the icicles. Shepherd comes out this morning to change out the water for the hens which has frozen solid over night. She pries the hen house door open, which is pretty stiff in the cold, and sticks her head in to grab the frozen waterer. Backing out, she catches a 12 inch icicle or two on the back of her head, breaks it off and it slides down the inside of her barn coat. Such Language !!
My delicate sensibilities are still recovering....
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