On the weekend, after coming back from my trip, I took one look at Tillie and said "she's going into labor." But Aimee shrugged and said, "she's been like that since Wednesday."
And it's true. There's been no change. She's off her feed, even if I take it to her personally and keep the other sheep away. She staggers around as if her back legs were locked. She spends much of the day lying down at odd angles on the ground.
But no lambs.
Maybe she'll stay that way forever. Poor old Till.
The other sheep are similarly huge, especially Molly who looks like a giant snowball with her beautiful thick fleece. A snowball with silly legs.
Something's got to give.
Still, it gives me an excuse to come home from work earlier than normal. I can check on the sheep and work in my den.
We're "springing out" on the wood from the wood men that came a couple months ago. I'm surprised it burns as well as it does, to tell you the truth. I'd been using it only for the outside wood furnace, which has a draft like a Sheffield blast furnace and can burn any carbon life form. But it's been great in the little kitchen stove too. I put on a 8-inch wide chunk, the size of a small tool box, this morning, propped it up on a single tiny red coal, and the whole thing sprang into life in two minutes and is now burning brightly.
Mainers say they "spring out" on the last of their wood. Spring is not a serious heating season, so you can get by with wood of poorer quality and less quantity.
So we're springing out. When the frogs come, then we'll know for sure. Frogs and lambs.