No Lambs Yet!

Plenty of snow though. The girls call this their Army Fort. I don't like snowball throwing but don't mind them building the forts. I've been meaning to build something cool with them, like the giant turtle of '02. I think we'll have enough white stuff to work something out.
Did I mention no lambs yet? Aaaarrggh. I shouldn't be frustrated, I should just mellow out and let the ewes do their thing. I don't like not knowing when the babies are coming!!
I was asked what I'll knit first with the wool from our first shearing. Being the weirdo that I am I spun up 230 yards of Fricka's wool to knit a little jumper for her baby.



I was worried about getting this done before lambing time so I started sewing the right rear leg on before the body was dry from blocking. Bad Idea.
It won't go back into shape. Instead of re-stitching the leg on or some other intelligent repair method I'm going to leave it be. I doubt Fricka or her baby will complain about the wonkiness. It's silly for me to stress out over it. The little darling is going to be romping and rolling in the jumper, muddying it up. She won't need it as Shetlands have excellent mothering ability and Fricka will have that baby fed and warm in no time.
I read most of All Flesh is Grass today and the author shared this traditional folktale that hit home:

Once upon a time, an ambitious young man decided that he wanted to make money raising sheep even though he didn't know much about them. Being a practical man, he asked the sheep. After all, who would know better than a sheep how sheep should be raised. "Simple, really," the old leader ewe of the flock told him. "All we need is a bite of grass, a sip of water, and a pinch of salt." As long as the new shepherd followed the sheep's advice, things went well for him. He even made a little money. But if the sheep were content, the man was not. He asked them again: "Are you sure you don't want something more, a barn perhaps to sleep in, better kinds of grass, some grain, a little protection against wolves?" To which the sheep assured him again that all they needed was a bite of grass, a sip of water, and a pinch of salt. But their master would not listen. He drove himself into a frenzy of debt and stress to provide his sheep with all the things that he was sure they needed, meanwhile complaining that sheep were costing him money. The sheep responded only by reminding him once more that all they needed was a bite of grass, a sip of water, and a pinch of salt. At long last, broke and tired, the man understood: he himself had been the cause of his problems, not the sheep. "Sheep don't need much, it is true," he admitted. "Most of what I've done is for me."