It’s been a while since we’ve had a post on our blog and as you can imagine much has changed and much has been done. But as the seasons change and life continues forward we are reminded of the cycles of life and how while life is constantly changing around us, all things remain the same.
We are still very excited for the first signs of life on the farm. The raspberries and plums are budding out, tulips and iris are reminding us of the beauty to come, the hard soil is thawing, and the animals are giving birth.
Last Thusday the mother superior of our sheep clan, Gabby, gave birth to three lambkins (two boys and a girl) on one of the coldest days of the year. It was a hard birth, as all triplet births are, and the baby girl didn’t make it. So, we lovingly opened our arms to a pair of rambunctious boys, and thanked mama Gabby with a bucket of alfalfa topped with some tasty molasses and grain. The cycles of spring and life are never more apparent then in moments like Gabby’s birth.
Besides the twin boys (who still need names…) we also welcomed two new staff to the farm, Julie and Dave, the new Children’s Education Coordinators. They have folded themselves into the group. Just as upbeat as the lambs, not nearly as cute, but all of them are getting there legs under them and are learning to walk at White Oak Farm. Their will be dozens of school groups through the farm this spring, keeping the planting season lively and upbeat.
Hopefully you won’t have to wait as long for a blog post, and we look forward to hearing from you this season. Here’s to spring! We will leave you with a few of our favorite springtime quotes.
“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” — Margaret Atwood
“Sweet springtime is my time is your time is our time for springtime is love time and viva sweet love. ” — E.E. Cummings
“If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.” — Nadine Stair
I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden.Â Â Â Â Â –Ruth Stout