Well, ewes being "off their feed" is as good a sign as any, I guess. Just three hours after being placed in the lambing pen, Jewel got down to some lambing.
This first one slipped out without any bother. She struggled for an hour with the second one, and wouldn't let me near her to help, because she had the first one to defend, see.
This was until I went in there, pinned her head in the corner, and her body against the wall, grabbed the legs that had been sticking out for nearly forty minutes, and pulled it out. A crude kind of midwife I make, I know, but the patient wasn't cooperating with me, indeed had charged me several times already.
Who says nature knows best? By the time you've had your legs sticking out for forty minutes, and no movement, I'd say nature is being pretty silly right about now.
Although I suppose that sheep are no longer as natural as, say, a whitetail deer.
Still, it all came out right in the end. The lamb lived and seems fine. Jewel shed her afterbirth with little difficulty. One boy. I didn't check the sex of the second one yet. I don't need to be rammed again today. I went inside to watch the rugby internationals instead (on time delay on Setanta). Much less violent an experience for all concerned, than lambing. And less blood.
I'm glad there wasn't a third up there. That might have gone hard on poor old Jewelly.
Only three more ewes to go. Molly, Tillie, and Tootsie. All are experienced. Should be no problem.