A1A South

SwampMan gently woke me this morning by picking up my foot and shaking my whole leg like a pit bull would shake one of those lil’ sissy dawgs.  I startled awake.  He’s lucky there wasn’t a gun within reach.

“The alarm didn’t go off, we’re LATE!” he announced as he headed off to take a shower.

Using some language my momma would have washed my mouth out for, I grabbed various articles of clothing and dashed outside to do the feeding.  Then I dashed back inside and got a jacket.  It was DAMN cold out there, and was still sprinkling from an overnight rain.  DAMN.

Sploshing through the mud, all the sheep were out in the pasture raising three kinds of hell complaining about being out in the rain, and how come breakfast was late?  Were they all out there just to raise hell at me? Then I heard the unmistakable high-pitched “maaaaaaaa” of a newborn.  DAMN!

I dumped the grain for Breeze, gave her a quick pat on the neck, and ran for the sheep barn where the first time momma was drying her newborn.   As soon as I set foot in the barn, the other sheep crowded in there, and the lambs started playing tag, dashing around and confusing the new momma and baby.  DAMN!

I went out to feed the sheep in the trough in the pasture, and the overnight rain had swollen the little stream through the alleyway into a nice little obstacle that the adult ewes ”thought” they could jump over.  Well, they were half right.  It was a procession of LEAP! (SPLASH!) Cascade of cold mudwater sprays SwampWoman.  DAMN!  Leap (splash) DAMN!

The lambs arced into the air like little footballs being thrown into the end zone and mostly made it across.  At least the ones that didn’t make it only got me wet from the knees down.  

Hurriedly dumping out the feed, I rushed back to the new momma, dumped a little grain for her to distract her, caught her lamb, then tried to entice her out which she was amenable to doing just as soon as she damn well finished eating, thank you VERY much.  By the time she had finished inhaling her feed, the other sheep were back in the barn jostling for the last corn kernels, and then momma started running around like only a demented new mother sheep can, chasing all the other lambs while ignoring the one maaaaaaaing in my arms.   (I had to leave for work in 5 minutes at that point.)  DAMN!

I finally got mom and baby in the pen, some fresh hay for mom, a nice fresh bucket of water for mom, and then took off at a run for the house just as fast as a middle-aged weight challenged woman in big rubber boots can run through ankle deep mud and water. 

No time for a shower.  I didn’t really have time to change into clean, dry clothes and wash the amniotic fluid smell off my arms and hands, but I did that anyway, and then off to work. 

I couldn’t be late for proctoring the Florida FCAT math test!  The FCAT (Florida Comprehensive Achievement Test) is the test that tells how successfully educators have managed to stuff knowledge into resistant brains.  The school grade depends on it.  School funding depends on it.  Teachers’ jobs depend on it.  Administrators’ jobs depend on it.  Then, when I see a student later and casually remark “hey, I’m sure you did well”, and he says “I HATE stupid tests!  I Christmas treed it!” it takes all of my willpower to keep from tackling him while screaming “You WILL pass that FCAT or DIE TRYING!  Do you UNDERSTAND ME?”

Anyway, after the tests were proctored and the kids (not the cute little cuddly kind, but the tattoed, pierced, and/or pregnant high school kind) were off to lunch, I had the leisure to wonder how well I really searched that barn.  Was it a single lamb, or was there another one hidden there in the pre-dawn darkness sleeping that I hadn’t found?  DAMN! 

I tore out of there in the truck right at 3:00 with no regard whatsoever for speed limits (which are set by the state for people that can’t drive) and searched the barn.  No newborn lamb body for me to feel guilty over. 

I think I’ll go to bed now.