But Seriously Y’all, Baby Lambs

I’m in Underberg at the moment visiting my parents.  Yesterday, we spent the afternoon at friends of theirs.  A magical place where chocolate cake is fresh out of the oven, apple orchards are just beyond the kitchen door, honey is collected from bees and the layered mountains create a theatre of the round.  For life.

When the sun was reaching out to play Hide and Seek behind a mountain, we all headed outside.  I pulled off my converse and pulled on a pair of borrowed gumboots.  The air was weirdly balmy (there’s whisperings of snow), the light was a ridiculous shade of golden and the baby lambs were ready for supper.

I have never held a baby lamb before. The closest I have come is sheepishly (sorry not sorry) sticking my fingers through a fence to try and feel their gruffly soft fur.  While full grown sheep are all body with stick legs, baby lambs are all long limbs with little, warm bodies.  And they have almond shaped eyes and Disney ears, and they trot.  Even half an hour after being born, they stand up and trot, because they know that is just what baby lambs should do.

Baby lambs are also super wriggly, they want to play and snuggle with their moms and unlike puppies, have very little interest in a bottle of warm milk.  So you have to keep the teet of the bottle in their mouth and hold them on your lap until they’ve had at least a few gulps.

The mom sheep all watched suspiciously from a corner.  Baaaa-ing moodily every now and again.

(I’m thinking of sending this post to Farmer’s Weekly, ground breaking notes on animal husbandry, I’ll say.)

After the baby lambs had wriggled and gulped a little milk and baaaa-ed and trotted around, we walked down to the river where a herd of horses from the farm next door had wandered over.  The sound of their hooves clip clopping home across the river bed was all at once strangely familiar, completely foreign and exactly what every pair of ears should get to hear.

Can something you have already done be on your Bucket List?
If so, my Rebucket List would include:

Going back to Paris
Throwing vacuum cleaners out of the back of a convertible at high speed
Kissing in the rain

Feeding baby lambs

Me: This is the happiest moment of my life.

Baby Lamb:  Heeeeeeeelp.

Lastly, a note on genetics.  I was looking through my parent’s pictures of the afternoon (thank you guys for every photo in this post!) and these two pictures stopped me in my tracks.  Mother/Daughter What Now?!  My Mom and I are standing exactly the same at two moments along the way.  Geez genes.

PS.  More on genes – I am my father’s daughter.

(I should mention that I know that lambs are baby sheep.  But ‘baby lambs’ just sounds so much better.  Thank you for understanding.)


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  1. Movan says:

    Great post lovie! How wonderful to get to hold, and feed, those baby lambs!
    And, like mother like daughter, for sure – just look at that hair! x x x :-D

  2. Milly says:

    One of my favourite posts! I love this, you make me smile! x

  3. Steve says:

    Reading this post was like holding a baby lamb. In case I need to state the obvious…I would very much enjoy holding a baby lamb. Grown up lamb not so much…

  4. Ms. Ameezing says:

    Movan! Milly! Stevils! Hi! Thanks for your comments xxx

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