The Big Guy went to Colorado for a few days to visit his mom and brother. While he was gone, our ewe who lost one of the triplets got mastitis. What we don't have are pictures of Laura milking the ewe's bad teat and bottle feeding the little ones or my cornering #108 every morning for a lovely dose of penicillin. What we do have are pictures of the crew eating breakfast.
We sure hope spring is on the way. Winter's about outworn it's welcome. May the adventures continue in your lives as well, blessed with the goodness only God can provide.
The Big Guy came home to a fresh layer of snow--if he'd been traveling home from Chicago, he wouldn't have made it for a day or two. It was really very beautiful...and heavy.
That week we trapped a mink in the barn. If adolescent boys are ever in doubt, this is a good instance of your scent giving you away. A shower or distance (either one) would have kept this bad boy out of the hoosegow.
Then, late Friday night, as the snow was melting, Neighbor Dave called, wondering if we knew any reason for there to be traffic to and from Mrs. Hawley's. No, not to our knowledge. He called the sheriff. Matthew and I jumped in one of the big trucks and made our way toward the river where we found 5 teen-aged girls, stuck. Their little car apparently didn't "think it could." And it didn't. Why a carload of young ladies would be on a dirt road no one had traveled or plowed would be a mystery--if we hadn't been teenagers ourselves.
I gave them my cell phone number and we went home. Realizing their friends couldn't come to their aid and (perhaps) they were unwilling to call parents, they called us. The Big Guy started the tractor and we rocked our way down the highway, pulling over long enough for the sheriff to pass. We got out at the crossroads, shook hands with the sheriff, towed the girls out, shook hands with the sheriff again and left as he approached their car, asking for insurance and I.D.'s. By 1:00 a.m. our world settled down.
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| The Rescuer |
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