Well, this week was not my finest as a new sheep rancher. May, our first expectant ewe, went into labor and I wasn’t able to pull the lamb in time. Needless to say, she lost it. When lambs are born they’re supposed to come out front hooves first, with their heads essentially resting on their legs. It seems that this little guy had his knees bent, with hooves pointing in, making it a difficult delivery.

With Glenn gone, Bennett and I tried our best to get the lamb, but we just didn’t have the muscle power we needed. So, May had to wait for Glenn to get home the next day. (I was taken aback by just how much force was needed.)

It was funny. I felt much worse about the whole experience than I expected. I felt responsible for the loss of the lamb and it seemed to cast this dull shadow of doubt on my new journey. I’ve decided to consider it a year’s worth of lessons condensed into one day of loss. I learned a lot this week and I made some mistakes. Mistakes I won’t make again.

As for May, she’s slowly recovering from the ordeal…

Yesterday was officially my last day at Cave B. Six and half years all came to an end with the celebration of our 6^th Annual Spring Wine Release Event.

While my last eight weeks there started really winding down and my hours grew less and less, my final week was a busy one as we were gearing up for the big event. As a result, there was the ever obvious challenge of balancing my soon to be old life (Cave B) and my fledgling new life (Huffman Farms) as I was getting pulled in both directions. Case in point…

Arnold’s Ranch and Home annual Chick Days event happen to fall on the same day as spring Wine Release. What’s a farmer to do? Should I come late the event? Do I just miss chick Days altogether? That’s a “no” to all of the above. I rushed by on my way out of town, dressed to the nines, looking like I thought that “Chick Days” was all about strapless summer dresses and paten leather heels. My 20 newfound friends rode out to work with me (Note: never try to carry on a hands-free cell phone call with 20 chirping chicks in the car) and hung out in my office while the event carried on.

Then, just as I was heading home I got the heavily anticipated “ May’s having contractions” text message. I ran through the door and traded my form fitting pastels for lumber jack Carhartt overalls, slipped wool socks and muck boots on over my freshly painted toes, strapped on my headlamp, grabbed the camera bag and squeezed through the three rail fence to take my position as “Lead Lamb Catcher”.

And here I sit, at 3:30 the next afternoon, with no babies. My head bobbing from my sleep deprived night of 2-hour maternity checks – certain the babies were on their way. But none the less, it was a fitting end and seemingly seamless transition from corporate to Carhartts. Let the farming begin!