On this, the first day of spring, we woke up to eight more inches of snow....and no baby lambs. A watched pot never boils. That's what they say, don't they? At least that's what I say when Ezra stands over the pot of water on the stove, willing himself to be that much closer to the finished plate of pasta he'll devour ("That makes no sense, Mom" he always says to me). But a pregnant sheep eventually has to lamb. Am I right?
Two and a half weeks into our official lamb watch (based on the timing of Mr. Rochester's visit), I am quite certain that we have some lambs coming - or at least as certain as someone who knows nothing about such things can be certain. I'm that certain. Anne is questionable - she's a bit standoffish, that one. I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't let Edmund anywhere near her. But the others? Clear as day - so definitely pregnant. Large, wide, and definitely with full bags (am I saying too much?). The lambs will come.
We don't mind waiting, really. We'd prefer that those little lambs arrive in warmer weather, and it's only getting warmer by the day (or so says the calendar and not the sky). So we'll just continue with our noncommittal selves this month. Yes, we may be able to come to that cocktail party. We hope to be at your birthday festivities. Calvin might need a ride to dance. And so on and so forth for apparently a few more weeks to come. There is much speculation about who and the how of this lambing season - who will be first (all bets are on Emily), when it will happen (Ezra thinks it'll happen on his birthday, I think it'll happen when we're on our way out the door to something important, and Steve predicts we'll just wake up one morning and find a few extra new faces in the barn. He's probably right.) Who knows...we'll find out soon enough. Because eventually - no matter how impatient or eager we may be - the water does boil in that watched pot, it really does (Ezra says so).
A Happy Equinox to you!