Elizabeth's Trips

You remember that sheep that I was telling you was going to lamb any day? Any day for the last month?

Dear Elizabeth was named for the first Queen Elizabeth. She is more of a  powerhouse than an elegant jacob ewe, but  her eye liner and lipstick are applied just so. Her fleece is the spongy, Corri-line fleece that makes such beautiful rugs.

Elizabeth finishing up the birthing process as her little girls
figure out the walking thing.

I finally gave up doing night checks on her. A watched pot never boils and some watched ewes never lamb. She kept getting bigger and bigger and by Monday she was waddling around a huge udder. Then, yesterday morning, about 5 a.m., I heard the soft grunts of a ewe in productive labor. Elizabeth is not a ewe who likes human interference in her life, so I left her alone and listened until daylight.

One of the wee ones gets a drink from mama
as big sister Hildy explains to the other two that
 as soon as they know how to walk good,
she'll teach them how to play.

Here's what I found when I went out. Three healthy little girls that are as different as trips can be. One is gorgeous and well marked, with a soft, crimpy fleece. One is long-legged, with a long, wavy fleece. And the littlest girl looks like she was thrown together from the left over scraps.Her spots are very strangely placed and her ears and legs are sort of higgledy-piggledy.

Oh, no, I can't really name these girls Higgledy-piggledy, Helter-skelter and Hullabaloo, can I?