Woolshed gives way to carols for a day
Our wool shed has been a particularly busy place in the past few weeks. Mobs have been mustered off the paddocks into the yards, ewes and lambs separated off, then lambs given their first drench, dirty ewes sorted out and dagged, everything dipped to prevent fly strike then returned to paddocks.
A cut from each mob were weighed and lambs are growing well with singles lambs averaging 30kgs and twins 27kgs. With the help of Johnie, and his dogs, home on his ‘‘day off’’ more than 1700 lambs were dealt with and the rest followed mob by mob.
The woolshed rocked with noise of shearing music and machines when a mob of ewes were shorn. Lambs were drafted off woolly ewes and when reunited next day soon identified a mother looking quite different, white, clean and clipped, but still sounds and smells the same.
The woolshed is humming apart from human endeavour as well. Down in the dusty dimness of the basement under the grating, ducks create their nests in hollows made in little black sheep pellets. They sit quietly on eggs laid into soft feather lined beds while the action happens above them. Three clutches of ducklings of various ages emerged into sunshine and now paddle in puddles and waddle around the yard with proud mums.
Inside the woolshed swallows and starlings constructed nests and committed to rearing young. Netting originally installed to keep the shed bird-free long ago rusted away in salty west coast winds and feathered families thrive in the rafters.
Today the yards were full again but not with sheep this time. A muster of people gathered to celebrate carols in our woolshed. Seating was haybales, woolbales and an assortment of folding chairs. No modern loud music blaring from a shearers i-phone but beautiful old familiar carols enthusiastically sung with live musicians. Pet lambs and a goat provided the real shed experience with background bleats and a woolly touch for kids and nostalgic memories for many. We didn’t clean and tidy and sweep cobwebs out. The idea was that a woolshed has sights, sounds and smells of animals with squishy stuff underfoot just like that stable way back in Bethlehem would have had. Animal sheds are not a place where people live let alone choose to deliver a baby in but God’s plans are not ours.
It’s good to be reminded that Christmas celebrates the birth of a child born among us into our real worlds, not elevated and isolated. Among the carol singers were people dressed as angels, and shepherds and three children delivered gifts to the ‘‘baby’’ in the basket. A cute impromptu touch brought many smiles when one of those little ‘‘wise men’’ picked up ‘‘baby Jesus’’ to take him back to her seat. Maybe a profound message in that unexpected act.
There was food and fellowship to follow and now folk have gone home. The haybales will be returned tomorrow and the woolshed is home for birds again. Days will be less busy now with a rest over Christmas for both the woolshed and us. I wish you joy and hope of this season and may you know peace amid all the busy times.