On this cold, rainy, muddy day, we're foster parents to two knobby-kneed little lambs running about our empty bathtub, their cries heard throughout the house.
Two hours away, our college-aged daughter misses the babies. After all, she's been involved in lambing since she was two and held up the head of lamb resuscitating in a bathtub of warm water. Her snapchats and texts draw a line from Skyemoor Farm to Charlottesville. We have the white twins in downstairs tub. Ohhh what happened to them??? Mom died. Oh nooooo Was she young? What happened? Milk fever ☹ Are they new babies? Sad Don’t be sad!!!!!! But a mommy died!!! They are just so innocent and sweet Poor little babies they have no mommy But you do ok I’ll just be sad by myself Oh honey. R u ok? yes I am fine Pshew oh dear what did u think? Just making sure u were not depressed by them I am slightly more emotionally stable than that U crack me up 😊 Whether near or far, and in both life and loss, I’m reminded how especially during lambing season we are connected by love for our our extended farm family.