Time to get ready for lambing! First task is prepping the shed and that’s quite a big job. Up until recently it was full of hay but the cows have munched their way through that and we’ve moved onto the second shed so far untouched. (We were always told you should reckon to have used half your winter forage by Valentine’s Day, so on that count we’re about bang on).
Last autumn when the rams went in with the ewes they wore a raddle, a canvas harness that holds a wax crayon between their front legs, so when they mate with a ewe they leave a coloured mark on her rump. We change the colour of the crayon every two weeks so we know that all the girls with green bottoms will lamb first. That means we only need to bring half the flock in at a time and once most of the greens have left the barn with their new lambs we can bring the blues in. The big open shed, full of deep straw, has a corridor of feeders down the middle so everyone can get to hay and corn, and at the end there are rows of ‘mothering up’ small pens. Once delivered, new mums spend the first 24 hours in one of these while we check the lambs are strong and feeding, that she has plenty of milk and that she likes her lambs and is prepared to be a good mother – strangely not always the case.

We also have to make sure all the kit is ready. Little ropes to pull out any stuck lambs, especially if they’re coming backwards, iodine to spray onto their navels to stop infection, and big bottles of lubrication gel to keep everything slippery! Also, rubber gloves, castration rings (sorry, boys) and tiny ear clippers for the girls. We clip a notch out of the ear of every ewe lamb that is a twin, so come the autumn when we need to decide which females to keep for breeding we choose those with a notch which carry the twin gene over those that don’t.

We only have seconds to make them take that first gasp and usually a spot of adrenaline placed on their tongue will do the trick. Or you can try squirting cold water in the ear – quite a shock after a lovely warm womb

There’s also a can of spray paint to number the mother and her lambs. If we then find a lost cold lamb, we can match numbers when we wander round the field looking for its mother. The good mothers would never allow their lambs out of sight but some of the tegs, the first time mums, are not so diligent and reuniting them with their offspring gives great satisfaction. Then there’s the medicine chest. If mum has a really tricky birth and there’s a lot of intervention from one of us – that’s where the rubber gloves are required – then we’ll give her a jab of penicillin and a jab of pain killer. We’ve also got some tiny tubes of adrenalin paste to revive any lambs that are struggling to breathe. We only have seconds to make them take that first gasp and usually a spot of adrenaline placed on their tongue will do the trick. Or you can try squirting cold water in the ear – quite a shock after a lovely warm womb. Or even dunk them in the water trough. Whatever it takes!
And then of course there’s the shepherd’s needs. The camper van parked up by the maternity pens is great for a nap when it’s quiet. But since we’ve had the eureka idea of feeding an extension lead through the window to plug in an electric blanket we have to be super careful not to fall into a cosy warm slumber oblivious of the mayhem that might be breaking out all around.