The Waiting Game

Things to note:

1. I should know better by now. 
2. I should also be careful what I wish for. 

It's been a couple of weeks since I last wrote a blog. The truth is, I've been waiting to report on lambing. It's underway at the Spittal but I've yet to see any lambs being born or to do anything useful. So I thought I'd wait. 

Number One*

I should know better. As I may have mentioned once or twice in previous blogs, things rarely go to plan in farming. This week, for example, there's been so much water pouring off the hills that it's had to be diverted to avoid the cycle track turning into a swimming lane. 

I've got a few days off coming up and I'm in a bit of a quandary about them. Do I spend the days walking the dog, making soup and reading in my shed or do I make myself available as a willing (but not particularly able) worker? 

I hate the idea of getting in the way or, worse still, actually causing harm. I know that the only way to learn something is to do it but there's not usually so much at stake. It's not just that there are animals' lives at risk but there's a financial element, too. 

Before I started seeing Ivie, I didn't give that side of things any thought, although it seems obvious now. I'd drive along the A75 noticing lambs in the fields and feel optimistic about spring on its way or I'd see an article about sheep worrying and think how awful for a ewe to lose its lambs. 

4 & 5*

So, I'll keep hanging around the lambing shed with Ivie, hands in pockets, not volunteering but secretly hoping he does ask me to roll up my sleeves and get stuck in. As it were. 

I'd suggest you await the next instalment but, you know, don't hold your breath. 

[* I've secretly given them proper names but I hear it's not the done thing.]