Erratic timing of newsletters usually means a really busy period on the farm. If you'd asked me at the weekend how lambing was going I would have been tired, but happy. The week had seen dry days that were blissfully warm in the sunshine. Days were long but it was a pleasure to be out and about, checking and marking new borns, feeding those inside the shed and, of course, feeding the pet lambs. All the kids have been really hands on this year, and splitting shifts between them has given lots of rare one on one time which has been a real pleasure.
We'd had a long range eye on the forecast for last night. A drop in temperature, wind and persistent rain is a terrible combination for new born lambs. Yesterday was a flurry of pen building to hold as many undercover as we could, and as darkness fell Fergus and Struan trawled the fields to scoop up anything looking particularly vulnerable. It was a long, fitful night, aware of the first wind in ages rattling at the windows and always, always the sound of heavy rain driving against the pains. Everyone was scheduled for an early start.
As the first light dawned they headed out to the fields and we were right to have been concerned. The worst night of losses since we came back to the farm (even worse than the beast from the east). Lambs, new born and bigger, struggled to keep any body heat in the persistent deluge. The whole morning was spent recovering those that didn't make it and trying to locate mothers and newly 'single' lambs. Heart breaking. Tonight we are all tired, but in a different way. And hoping that from here on in the weather is kinder.