Survival of the Fittest. Our first FHINZ experience.

"Don’t look Brent”, exclaimed Mr. McLay.

“It’s too late.” Brent was already watching and unfortunately saw the worst of it.

Mr. McLay was lambing a sheep. The lamb, unfortunately, was already dead. But this one decided to come out of the sheep in two pieces. And it wasn’t an easy birthing either, not to mention the fact that the ewe wasn’t even participating in the birth of her own offspring. It was a tough job, which required string and incredible strength to pull the lamb out of the mother. After the first half of the lamb came out, his job became much more intense. He now had to contend with a partially exposed spinal cord from the now defunct lamb that was still inside the ewe. He was meticulous as he extracted the remains, preserving and protecting the innards of the sheep.

All in a day’s work.

I remember the first day we arrived at the McLay household and the children first walked in the house. Six children aged 7 to 14. You can see the gravel road down a hill from the living room window. The bus trudging along with the dust rolling behind it and blowing in the wind. Out pops the McLay clan, half of whom race up the road and into the driveway. Immediately the house fills with the sound of stories of the day from all sides. All levels of tone.

And the laughter.

Immediately following afternoon tea (snack time after school) the kids scatter to grab homework, help their mum or prepare the milk to feed the lambs, do the rounds in the paddocks or work in the sheep shed.

“Do you want to see a lamb being born? Come on, hurry.”, one exclaimed.

Our first day.

This ewe was brought in from a paddock on their property to give birth. This happens when the ewe has problems with delivery or becomes weak after giving birth to the first of twins or triplets. A long plastic glove is all it takes Mr. McLay to brave the inside of the lamb. He helps this mother give birth to its two lambs.

They are contending with an “abortion bug” on their farm this season. It’s a bug that the ewes pass onto their lambs, and survival rate has been greatly affected by it. Therefore, saving every lamb that they can is vital.

Life and death go hand in hand on a farm. Most people have a hard enough time coping with how to explain death to their children, even leaving some parents to tell their children that ‘scruffy isn’t coming home right away, he’s just staying at the doctor’s for a little while’.

Now how does that help a kid learn to cope?

Birth. In all its yellowy, gunky, blood covered, placenta bubbles and strings of glory. In a few hours that soaking wet lamb will be a beautiful animal that I’ll just want to hold forever.

Death. The counterpart and harsh reality.

It’s not until you see an eight year old pick up a dead lamb and chuck it in a pile that should never have climbed to such an amount (it’s all because of this bug) that you realize that you need to quickly de-sensitize yourself to the idea of death on a farm. Even if it means saying good bye to a lamb you became attached to.

This is the reality of living and working on a farm.

Despite everything, I still managed to fall in love with a copious amount of baby lambs. Some lambs made my heart melt for their perfect faces. You know, the ‘postcard lambs’, the ones that are so white and you know they were models in a farm book at some point in their lives. Some of the lambs stole my heart by the way they called out to you from the hay shed.

At this point, I should explain the hay shed.

This is the home of many of the orphaned lambs from the farm. Sometimes the ewes have a lamb and basically reject it. Either it was a twin or triplet and it took one, but not the other. Sometimes it’s because they are new moms and don’t quite grasp the concept of being a mum (I can’t explain to you how stupid some sheep really are!! It’s quite incredible). Sometimes the lamb loses the mom in the paddock, and when they are reunited she doesn’t take to it. Sometimes its because the ewe had triplets and it only has milk enough for two of the three. There are many reasons. Gordon (Mr. McLay) picks the lambs that might not survive in the paddocks and brings them back to the hay shed or sheep shed and they are either ‘mothered up’ with a new ewe (long story) or they begin the three times daily enjoyment of the bottle feeding regime.

The lambs in the hay shed are just down the driveway from the house. As I write this blog entry, there are currently 7 lambs in one pen and 2 in the smaller one. We lost my favorite lamb from the smaller pen today. He was adopted by another ewe (it is kind of a forced adoption – where you pair up lambs with mothers who have given birth and maybe lost their lambs to a virus/bug). He was my favorite because when he used to ‘bah’ from his pen, I would ‘bah’ back in the really ugly deep way the ewe would do to her young. And he would immediately reply. This would go on back and forth until I approached him, at which point I would lay my hand on his head and just pet him, or pick him up out of the cage to hold him near me. I think he liked me. All they really want is their mom. Well, that and milk. They really want to be loved.

Then I fall in love with the special case lambs. Like ‘blue dot’. He has two gunked-up eyes and from day to day you don’t know if he’ll be able to see or not. Blind and dumb. Worst combination! But I grew an affinity towards him.

Naming a lamb. When you are feeding up to 10 lambs in one pen per meal, you need to know who and what you are talking about. So, lambs usually get marked by spray paint. Dots, dashes, shapes. Lambs & sheep get marked for all different kinds of reasons. Well, when we were up to 10 lambs in the one pen, Susan decided it was time to mark all of our ‘no mark’ lambs. And so, their names were formed. Creative names too, like ‘blue dot’ (dot on forehead), ‘blue neck’ (dot on neck), across ears (stripe across both ears), ‘blue nose’ (he actually moved when being marked, so his marking is from between his ears to his nose), ‘two stripe’, ‘spiney’ (who died sadly), ‘blue tail’, ‘bluey’ (susan or reuben were showing their creativity when they turned this lamb blue), ‘LC’ (yup, lamb chops), ‘leg circle’ (he also died), ‘blue ear’, and so on.

We moved from bottle feeding some of the lambs to a multi-feeder, and you know what, we actually call them out by their names. In the pen, there will be two of us holding the multi feeders, while up to two others are inside the pen with the lambs trying to get them to stay on the contraption and suck out the milk. Some drink too well, while you struggle to keep certain others drinking.

The lambs. I love calling out to them and hearing them crying back to you. If I do this, you can rest assure that I give them all my attention. They are so wonderful.

But so silly sometimes. If its feeding time and you step into a pen with a lamb, just be ready, cause its probably going to suckle on your boot or clothing or try to get between your legs and peck at your thigh. A natural instinct I suppose. You know they are thirsty, but they don’t know where to go to get what they need.

Farm Helpers in New Zealand. FHINZ.

Our first placement was with the McLay family. Gordon & Coralie, Susan (14), Reuben (13), Isabel (11, almost 12), Esther (10), Naomi (8), and Josiah (7). A wonderful Christian family that spoiled us with their love and hospitality. A family of eight grew to ten for the 12 days that we spent with this family. Every moment was wonderful, and they will be missed. We will surely miss the family, the farm, the lambs and simply being out here.

I could tell stories about our experiences here on the farm down the hilly gravel road, but there are too many to tell. We were thinking about that the other day. Instead, we wanted to list vivid memories we enjoyed with this family and all the things we will miss from this experience.

The children. All six of them. They are all so different and wonderful in their own way. I will miss their voices and how it filled the home so much (even the bickering). There is so much love between them, and I pray that they will remain close forever.

Morning games. We started to play games before the kids went off to school. We had the most fun laughing up a storm before they started their day on the bus. Collapsing with the McLays playing the sit down games.

My morning wake up calls. I slept in a room with Susan, and every morning we would get knocks on the door and the other children would slowly make their way in to say hello and hang out on the beds with us.

Waking up at half past five. I love waking up early. This family is at the table eating breakfast before 7.00am. My type of morning!!

Coralie’s wonderful home-cooked treasures. She is incredible, making almost everything from scratch. Every day was a new surprise with meals and deserts. It was like being at home. We gained some much needed weight back (thank you!) and were spoiled by this first experience.

Dinner table and morning bible readings. I thought it was amazing, and helpful to start and end the days with this routine, something that Brent and I will start to do as we grow together.

Collecting firewood to dry with Josiah and Isabel's help. Cleaning the hedges and making it into a game with Isabel.

The lambs. And to a certain extent the sheep. I have to admit, sheep can be ugly and they sound horrible, their ‘bahs’ are almost guttural. Yet the ewes that know and love their lambs, and the ones that give chase to their lambs when they are separated from them, receive gold stars in my book. Then there are the sheep that I dub the ‘baby snatchers’ of the bunch who might reject their own offspring and try to take possession of another ewe’s babies. It’s terrible what a dumb sheep can do. But the lambs, I will never tire of their faces, holding them or hearing them. Although when you know they are calling out for their mothers it does pull on a few heart strings.

Just feeding the lambs.

Basil (pronounced beh-zil). Esther’s pet goat. He does not have a mother on this farm and has been bottle fed by humans for as long as I’ve known him. He is just like a puppy. You could work along side him and he’ll just graze around you and jump on you. He will run up to you if you call his name. It’s incredible. But he can be cheeky. Oh, and he thinks he is a rooster sometimes. Once we tried to feed him off the multifeeder and he didn't take to the contraption, so we had to force him to drink off of it, which led to him squaking like a rooster.

Ty, Isabel’s dog – who doesn’t like me, no matter what I do. Kate, Reuben’s dog. Sonic, Naomi’s guinea pig.

Watching the goats sunbathing during the day.

Pronunciation. The differences between 'Canadian accents' and 'New Zealand accents'.

Going around the paddocks with Mr. McLay. I loved being on the trailer driving through the fields, hopping on and off intermittently with Brent as we took turns to open and close the gates. Taking in the beautiful land that the family owns and seeing nature take its course. You drive by all the ewes with their spring lambs, those giving birth, those simply grazing. Watching the lambs run awkwardly towards their mothers, scared by the quad’s motor, running towards their mum for some milk to calm their nerves. Watching the lambs that have lost their way starting to chase the quad bike, until Gordon would help them find their mother again. He truly is a shepherd, which seems to be a dying trade in today’s society. He is incredible out on the farm. He knows a lamb’s mom just by looking at it…and it might be so far away from where he found the lamb. He knows everything about the sheep he looks at in the fields, it’s truly incredible to watch him work. The rolling hills, the ocean, the sheep gnawing at the grass, the blue skies. Rescuing the lambs from places they might have fallen into and were left behind, and the unfortunate task of removing the deceased lambs. Unfortunate cause it’s sad.

Feeling the wind beating against your face.

Jem. The sheep dog. She’s a border collie, a seeing eye dog - which means that she herds the sheep with her eyes, not her bark (those ones are called hunt aways). Such a well trained animal. It’s quite spectacular to watch her at work with Gordon in the paddocks. Also, for the longest time Brent and I thought her name was Jim, due to the accents of the family. It took a while to adjust and even now, Brent and I both find ourselves calling her a boy.

A few firsts in the food department. Lollycake. Mmmmm. Spaghetti toasty – which is spaghetti on toast basically. Lamb ribs. Rice pudding. Homemade cinnamon raisin bread. Milo. Wheat-bix. Belgian slice.

Evening Milo after working in the sheep shed after tea (which is supper).

Crisp nights, clear skies, and endless stars and fresh air. Wonderful.

That sheep that didn’t make it over the metal pens and broke its leg almost in half. An irreparable injury. Dinner the next day. Yummmm

Brent’s experience tailing some lambs.

Spending some time in the garden digging up weeds and being approached by some cheeky hens.

That cheeky little goat in the front paddock. I think it’s Reuben’s goat’s baby. It knows where it fits under the fence and goes in and out of his paddock all day. Goats are funny little creatures, and so smart. Basil used to come up to the upper sheep shed area without us ever opening up a gate. He knows how to jump up and gain access through the locked areas.

Computer Solutions, a store in Balclutha, that allowed us to work on the computers one Saturday afternoon for free so that we could burn some DVDs for back home. Thank you kindly.

Completing evening tasks with Susan, Reuben or Gordon leading the sheep responsibilities.

Walking back and forth on the farm at night.

We were finally able to make it out to a church last Sunday.

Crappy gumboots. “The warehouse. Where everyone gets a bargain.”, so their motto says. Quite frankly, if a bargain won’t even last a week, then it’s surely not a real bargain. My pants – HUGE tear at seam. My t-shirt – hole developing near the seam. My gumboots – already displaying a giant hole in it. So, every piece of clothing that I picked up for farming from the WH was ruined. Crummy.

The children's questions about Canada and the differences between back home and New Zealand.

Going in for a cuppa mid day.

The strong winds through the hills.

Sitting at the table with Brent, Gordon and Coralie around 4.00pm, enjoying a hot drink while we wait for the kids to get in from school.

Sleepover with the girls. Right after we arrived, Isabel & Esther went away to camp for two nights. Naomi joined Susan and I in one room for a two night sleep over.

Rotating seating arrangements. We were able to sit beside each and every one of the McLay children throughout our time here. (breakfast and tea)

My long talks with Coralie and girl talk with the young ladies of the house.

Putting out laundry to dry on the wired fence, knowing that within the first hour the wind will have blown off any moisture (its such a strong wind).

Driving tours of the area by Coralie.

The younger children’s Friday afternoon assemblies. The first Friday I went to the assembly with Coralie to watch Naomi’s class perform a Maori story. I also stood up for the national anthem and forgot I wasn’t back home in Canada. A student in front of the crowd held up the lyrics to the NZ national anthem for all to sing, both in Maori and in English. This past Friday, Brent and I were both able to go and watch Josiah, Naomi, Esther and Isabel (along with many other classmates) participate in the ‘Jump Jam’(fitness, aerobics, energy and dance), as well as hear Esther give her award winning speech.

Playing with the kids. Just loving the children. This family is simply incredible. They immediately welcomed us with open arms.

Friday night, family night. Healthier fish and chips, followed by so many delicious deserts.

Home made bread every morning. (She also makes her own yogurt.)

The commotion that comes from a big family.

Exploring the old buildings on their property.

Least favorite moment would have to be the white bull cow. On the back of the quad bike, Gordon took Brent and myself to see an old farm house on his dad’s property. In the paddock, we happened to pass along side a massive white cow (a bull) who took interest in the bike. At first it was a light walk, then a trot, followed by head bucking and charging. He choose my side to be the target. I actually lifted up my feet from the side of the quad for fear that this bull would actually crush them as he charged the bike while Gordon was trying to evade him. “Cool it man”, Gordon tells the bull. It was like magic, the bull stopped.

The calf that ran away from the lamb.

The arts & crafts that the kids made us. Playing with the balancing animals with the kids. Playing the sleepy lion game. Going through books with the kids. Walking Thai and Basil.

Sad – when a lamb you have been bottle feeding suddenly dies.

Harold the cat meowing outside Susan & Isabel’s room every morning.

Herding 67 cattle down a gravel road to shift into a new paddock.

The moon shinning in the bedroom at night. The spectacular sunsets over the hills.

Meeting new people. Whether it was family, the church community, locals or the children’s friends (however we never did meet the ones who were afraid of the Canadians).

Learning more about the farm and how to work with sheep. It was a real eye opener and a great learning experience.

Everything.

We will both dearly miss the family and the farm. It was such an amazing experience and I pray that this family is blessed for many years to come. Thank you Gordon, Coralie, Susan, Reuben, Isabel, Esther, Naomi and Josiah for our wonderful time with your family.

We survived a ‘family of 10’. And it was worth every second.