It's time to "let go"

though it did come as a bit of a shock!

We were on our way to give Oruna (the horse) a treat when the lambs came running down the hill. I’d bottle fed most of this group, though not all, and was still feeding two of them. For a while, before the winter rains had replenished the veld, they also got feeding pellets and the lambs were probably expecting me to bring out the bucket. The veld is luscious enough now and feeding is no longer required.

The two bottle-fed lambs had walked into my huisie [cottage] earlier, as they did most mornings and then again mid-afternoon. In they would stroll, bleating loudly, and then wait for me to lift them onto a table on the stoep [veranda]. I’d usually feed them individually, a bottle each, and the table was required as they’d start pushing and shoving to get onto the teat. However, if the other lambs were not around, then I would feed both at the same time. The older lambs still have a hankering for milk.

I timed these visits, and it was usually 30 minutes either side of sunrise in the morning. In the afternoons, they came between 14:30 and 16:30; sunrise is around 17:50 at this time of year.

A text from Plaasvrou on Monday evening: “Kan jy asseblief die lammers by jou huis kraal toe bring sodat ons hulle veld toe kan vat?” [Could you please bring the lambs around your house to the kraal so that we can take them to the veld to join the other sheep?] I enjoy working the sheep with Lexi, who’s come on in leaps and bounds in working with me to gather and drive sheep. The two of us work the sheep a little differently, a bit more patiently, quieter.

As I walked out of my huisie, oom Toekie was coming up the hill with Lily running ahead of him to great me. Lily’s the mother of my new puppy, Bowie, who’s due on the farm in about two weeks (eight weeks, unless the vet advises differently). The four of us then brought the lambs into the kraal, did some sorting and went our different ways. (a short video, as I’d neglected to ‘record’ as we walked to the kraal)

Somehow, things didn’t sit right in my head. No more lambs rushing in to grab a bottle, or grazing around the huisie, munching on the aloe? Was this what it felt like when children leave the nest? K. down in Cape Town might be going through the same emotions, both their sons are in Berlin.

Which reminded me of a podcast that I’d listened to years ago, and now cannot find, where the speaker was talking about post-traumatic adaptation disorder. He didn’t like the term PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). I’d recently returned from Sierra Leone, having worked in an Ebola diagnostics laboratory, and I was struggling mentally.

The point of the podcast was adaption after mental trauma. Nobody understands what you’ve been through and therefore they cannot empathize. The example that I recall was suicides amongst military veterans in the USA, which are above the norm for the general population. One exception: indigenous Americans. His reasoning was that indigenous Americans returned to their towns and villages, where they were supported by other veterans who understand their trauma. Other veterans got ‘lost’ in the general population.

I’ll have to adapt to this new chapter. Step one was a walk to the Bo-Dorp to find Kleintjie and WitKol, my two lambs that are now with oom Toekie’s sheep, and have a look-in with Bowie, the puppy. I didn’t see the lambs in the community kraals and thus continued into the lande [fields]. They’re supposed to be with the goats; WitKol is suckling one of the goats).

A few of the magnificent goats and sheep that I saw in the community kraals

Strange, the one of the gates was open; maybe they’re on the other side? I walked to the top of a granite koppie [hill] and could see some sheep, but not mine. A beautiful vista, I continued with my kop skoon maak [head-clearing] walk.

Let me come back another day, I thought, and turned around, though this time walking on a different side of the kraals. And there they were, Kleintjie and WitKol! They walked to the fence, Kleintjie coming to suckle my fingers. Ai, moeder, that made me feel a bit better!

Kleintjie & WitKol. Behind WitKol is his surrogate goat

A look-in at Bowie and the puppies. Antie Aletta was cooking up offal and veggies for the dogs. The puppies were sleeping, so I let them be. Brownie, as I call him now, is really getting too much of the proverbial pie, die klein vetgat.

Bowie is the puppy at the back, with the black dot on his head. Brownie is the tub of lard, front middle

Later, we went to find Oruna to give him a treat. I think he recognizes me, as he’ll sometimes walk towards me. He’s not yet learnt to eat off my palm, yesterday he started chewing my fingers, but he allows me to give him a quick nose rub. I’ll give him time, there’s no rush.

A restless night, though thankfully no nightmares, nou voel ek sommer beter [now I feel so much better]. The birds are chattering outside. Lexi is up, we’ll go for a walk, take Oruna a treat.

“Well, it’s all right, riding around in the breeze.” Daarsiefoutie - have a lekker dag!