Cerys- the goddess of agriculture

Cerys: The first of our very own lambs born on Morilla

Above: The first four girls we bought to keep Enoch company once he was no longer able to live in suburbia with us. They were three Dohne merinos we named Iris, Belle and Maggie, and one Damara/Dorper cross we named Summer. Belle soon became known as Christopher because she looks like my nephew Christopher, although I am sure he would disagree, probabaly quite strongly! Summer came to be called Somali because she has very skinny legs and could live on a handful of oats a day. I know this is not at all politically correct and I am sure it will count as a mark against me when I stand at the Pearly Gates and are judged!

The three Dohne girls came from a farm near Jerramungup and cost us $25 each- an absolute bargain! Initially frightened of us they learned to trust us over time and are now amongst the most affectionate and gentlest of all the sheep. We like to think that they are the luckiest sheep in the world to have found a home on Morilla because we like to think we are very special people who treat our sheep exceptionally well. Somali is a different story and although she will eat out of our hands and we can pat her if we have food, at other times she won't let us touch her. She remains aloof and wary of us. This sheep is a real thinker.

Below: Christopher, Maggie, Somali and Iris. Iris, in the background, is my favourite sheep.

Our sheep come when they are called. No need to round them up, just call and they will follow, except Enoch of course, who will follow with the intention of headbutting. I guess it is more correct to say that Enoch doesn't follow, he actively chases us down. Here they are running for their lupin treats. Somali is pregnant and we were waiting with anticipation and a little anxiety for her lamb to be born. We hoped it would be an easy and uncomplicated birth because neither of us knew what to do if it wasn't, except call a neighbour and say "Help! We are completely incompetent and possibly should not be attempting this farming life..." Of course, we hoped it would not come to this. We were already seriously low in farming credibility amongst the neighbours, who often said things like: "So what made you think you could farm, then?". We shouldn't have worried about Somali.  As we have discovered since, she is a lamb making machine and Cerys was born without a problem. But I did buy the largest jar of Vaseline I could get my hands on, just in case.

You can tell we had the lupin bag out- the sheep have beaten the land speed record.

Below: A lamb is born on Morilla. Our lamb- the first lamb from one of our ewes. Enoch is the proud (read that as indifferent) father. The lamb was named Cerys after the goddess of agriculture. Somali is a very good mother as long as the lamb is a very good follower. Good old Somali has been known to wander far away from her sleeping lamb, only to realise when she hears the panic stricken calls of her baby who has discovered to its horror that mother has gone. The lamb soon learns that its job is to keep up with mother because mother waits for no lamb.

Hours after the birth. Resting and wondering what the Hell just happened and why.

You toucha my lamb, I kicka you face! You can tell I'm serious- my eyes are popping out.

Sweet!

Cerys at five months old, with her mother. All of Somali's ewe lambs still stay together in a family group. It is universally true- kids never leave home!

Below: Looking on in disbelief at her father, thinking what a fat and lazy slob he is, totally unaware that genetics would soon be working against her. Note Enoch's total indifference of which I spoke.



Cerys is seen here getting fat. She is the largest ewe we have now. No, she is not pregnant, she just loves her tucker! If she was a human she would be on the lounge with the remote in one hand and a sausage roll in the other.

Leave me alone I am trying to wallow in my own sloth over here. By the way, have you got a handful of lupins handy?

Below: As I said, Cerys is a big ewe. Here she is at eleven months old. She is the one on the left, chewing the fence to test its edibility. Cerys has now taken the crown of "biggest ewe", dethroning Charlotte. Charlotte is the black and white faced ewe on the right. I bought her at the Katanning sheep markets after she had been sold to the abattoir. She was big, had pretty coloured markings and best of all, she had a tail, which is not common in Australia. As I like my sheep to have pretty coloured markings and tails, I really was very keen to take her home and add her to our flock. The abattoir man sold her to me for $74.50, which I thought was a bargain. She was saved from becoming mutton chops and  has repaid us for saving her life by having two sets of twins for us since she arrived at Morilla.

Cerys is now nearly three years old and is just pregnant for the first time. This is possibly because she is a little, okay a lot, on the plump side. Apparently this is not ideal for a sheep. However, our sheep have access to oats directly from the silo because they have less pasture to graze than they need (one of the problems of leasing your farm land to out to other farmers. Oh that's right, we need grass! Doesn't grass grow on the ground? And haven't we leased our ground  to someone else? D'oh!) Cerys does overindulge compared to the other sheep who just eat what they need. She has never met a carbohydrate she didn't like.

Like Enoch, Cerys will always have a special place in our hearts! It is good to be the first. Now the lambs born on Morilla are not only unnamed, but often unphotographed! Eventually the novelty wears off  everything in life!