Tiny lambs make my heart skip

THIS last week has been more wintery than springlike. It was bitterly cold – the icy wind blew across the moors and the sheep huddled at the back of the walls.

Then the wind changed direction and as the rhyme goes, “the north wind doth blow and we shall have snow”.

The fire drew well and roared up the chimney as it does when there’s a storm raging but the house remained freezing. Draughts came from the sash windows, the loft hatches, even the key holes.

We went to bed in socks and woke to snow.

The children were pleased – Clive and I less so as it was difficult travelling through fields.

By Tuesday, most of the snow had melted. Fortunate, as the sheep needed bringing down into the pens for an appointment with the ultrasound pregnancy scanning man.

Clemmy and Annas both stared hard at the screen, hoping to see an unborn lamb. But, like me, they could not make head or tail of it.

The majority of our yows will have single lambs but there’s a lot having twins and a couple expecting triplets.

So all in all it was a good scan and we know what to expect and can feed them accordingly.

But it did scupper Clive’s Valentine’s Day plans. Usually he makes a point of putting out sheep feed on a hillside and as they gather to eat it, they miraculously form a heart shape.

Unfortunately Adrian, the sheep scanning man, demands they are not fed beforehand as it makes it harder for him to see the womb. So no outward display of Clive’s undying love this year.

“Never mind,” he said, “you know I love ewes.”