I pride myself on being a fairly good wordsmith. There are times, however, when my vocabulary feels stunted. Urban vernacular has befuddled me with crazy terminology such as crunk and the popular OMGWTF. Most of the time, I don't drop too much science. But when I asked folks if they wanted to go to a lambing, no one picked up what I was puttin' down.
So for all you cats who want to be in the know, lambing is the birthing of young sheep. The miracle of life. The hottest craze to hit the elementary schools since the SpongeBob SquarePants movie.
There was a whole lotta lambing going on at A-Z Farm in Oregon, Wis., on Sunday afternoon. As soon as I stepped into the barn, I turned in a virtual ball of wool. My face still hurts from the shit-eating grin that was plastered all over my face for the hour and a half I spent chillin' with my barnyard homies.
Domesticated farm animals are the coolest. They hang out, eat hay, and make silly noises. They don't care where they poop. They don't care if they get pooped on. They are the ultimate creatures. I mean really, imagine if your best friend walked onto your yard and started eating grass, then pooped on your shoe and fell asleep. You'd punch him in the face! But if he were a sheep, you'd be like, "Aww! He's so precious!"
I have always been a huge fan of sheep and have consistently lived in close proximity to a small cluster. The apple barn in my hometown had a mini petting zoo with about five. My neighbors in the Netherlands had seven or eight, which were always fun to hang out with, especially in the company of someone who'd just consumed Dutch mushrooms. And when I was in New Zealand? Lamb heaven.
A-Z Farm's Lambing Sunday was like the latter, although in an Orc- and Hobbit-free environment. In the left quadrant of the barn, there were two-week-old calves, baby chicks doing their thing, being cute. In the right quadrant, there was a large, enclosed sheep area, surrounded by textile displays and eight million children. Little lambikins bobbed around incredibly preggo sheep with shear delight. I can't even begin to explain the adorable quotient; it might qualify for "off-the-chain" status.
I was surprised to find that even locals that I know were unfamiliar with lambing and all its glory, but I hope they now understand. I was pleased to fan the flame of my love for sheep and their offspring. Well done, Wisconsin. Well done, sheep.
