Of Rams and Roosters

We got the chance to help out a cousin last night.  Among her many endeavours is a sheep farm, and it was time to shear 'em.  Kaden, Jim and I headed down. 

There were quite a few helpers, so it was relatively easy work for me.  And pretty amazing work too.  The farmers know what they're doing, whether it's fixing a barn door, shearing the sheep, or trimming hooves.

We had the treat of seeing lambs, too.  They don't get sheared, but were brought in to stay close to their mom.  When the mom was taken away for her turn (literally, about 12 feet away in the same barn, but in a different "pen"), the lambs started bleating.  It was adorable and heartbreaking at the same time.

Some were a few weeks old, but the little guy above had been born just that day.  He was the only one of three who survived the birth.  When his mom was taken for her turn, he just laid down near the gate.  We took the opportunity to pet him (Mama was a little too protective) and he started sucking on the boys' fingers.  They all got a kick out of that.

The main shearer guy taught us how to lower our shoulder and guide (manhandle?) the sheep into position.  He was able to hold and clip away.  Amazingly enough, the sheep would balk a little at first, but once they were "held", they pretty much stayed still.  Only their wide eyes and quick breath indicated they weren't sure about what was happening.

Since they had the sheep "in custody", the farmers also trimmed their hooves and gave them dewormer meds.  So there was a lot of shuffling - a sheep would go from the holding pen to the shearing station, to the hooves station, to the front pasture.   Kaden got a turn with the 'shepherd tool hook stick' (he was never sure that calling it a staff was enough).  His job was to guide /encourage the sheep out into the pasture.  He was so excited, he swung the staff toward the sheep- who prompted jumped about 3 foot high and out the barn door.  It was pretty cool, and Kaden took the next 10 minutes to go to everyone and tell them personally how he made the sheep jump.

There was a ram in the mix, too- sorry no pictures of him.  Towards the end, we let the sheep out into the middle pasture, and made sure the field was clear of sheep and kids before we let the ram out.  Our eight year old nephew asked me why it was so important to keep the ram and sheep separate.  I opened my mouth to answer matter of factually about (not) breeding... and then remembered he was 8.  So I told him it was a good question, and he should ask his father.

Later I gave my brother in law a heads up.  He laughed and told me about their chickens.  Apparently the kids would come in and complain about how mean the rooster was.  "Walker's always picking at the chickens, Dad, and then he jumps on them and just beats them up, jumping and jumping.  And he does it all the time!  He's so mean!"   

the THINGS this Kid does (and says)

Earlier this week, it was a wee bit nice out, so I took Kaden to a nature center for a rockin' storytime about frogs.  It actually was quite cool:  stories, poems, songs, a little craft.  All in 45 minutes.  Afterward, we explored the actual nature center, which was like a mini-kids museum.  All sorts of cool displays (microscopes with feathers or hedgehog barbs) and a life size tree/cave with all sorts of local, ah, taxidermied animals.  And the kids could climb on/thru the tree and cave part, but not touch the "stuffed" animals.  Such a neat place.   I remembered the camera- but forgot the memory card.  Next time you'll have photos.

ANYWAY, besides being one of my new favorite places, what struck me the most was how Kaden used this very cool play area as a backdrop for some elaborate superhero/police/criminal scene.  He pretty much involved every kid there - one was his batman (because as the leader, he of course got to be Robin, lol), and the "baby girls" (toddlers) who didn't want to play were innocent bystanders, aka "city people."   

Also this week, we've been at home and at one store.  All these places were just locations to play superheroes.  Seriously.

***

Today, we found Robin's kryptonite.  I was trying to decide on potting soil (as in, will spending $3 more on this bag prevent me from wasting time by planting seeds that won't grow in the cheapo dirt)... when Boy Wonder called me over with a trembling voice.  "It hurts, Mom," he said- holding out his hands.  I didn't see any blood.  What happened?  "I tried to hold the cactus," he said.  WHY?  "It looked soft and fluffy, like a rose."  When I took his hand to look closer, he immediately started wailing: "Dooooooon't toooouch iiiiiittt"

Fifteen or twenty minutes later, we had gotten most out via tweezers.  Thanks to some texts with a good friend and JimDad, we also had options to remove the rest of the barbs:  elmers glue, duct tape, aloe wash or epsom salt soak.  Hmmm, still in the middle of the store, we opted for duct tape.  The tears were gone- apparently black duct tape gloves are a way cool addition to Robin's costume... 

Later this summer, JimDad turns 40.  Today I was trying to brainstorm what to do, since our first three options were postponed due to move issues (nothing bad, just normal re-focusing).  I asked Kaden what he thought.  "A toy?" he said.   No, I replied, it has to be something big for this year.  "I know!  Shh, don't tell him, but we'll all go to..."  he actually paused for dramatic effect, people!  And then jumped up to stand on his seat and finish  "... we'll all go to FLORIDA!"  Big smile all around.   Well, sure that's a great idea, but we don't have a lot of money saved, I started to explain.  "I have money.  I'll give it to him.  I have $13."  Generous heart, that boy.

***

Tonight, Kaden also told his Dad that he didn't want to go to church anymore, and he wasn't going to school either, because you had to be still and quiet.

Earlier this week, he overheard a comment about me looking for papers I need to register him for the public school.  "I'm not going to public school," he adamantly declared.  Really? What kind of school are you going to?  "Superhero school."   Later I asked him to tell his dad what kind of school he wanted to go to, and he replied "Police school."   So, we're right back where we started...