I am living in the land of extremes. Last week my little thermometer read 28 F. when I got up in the morning. Yesterday we hit a record high of 90 F. The bunnies have a fan on them. The sheep are panting. I am desperate to get the wool off them. Big Jim Baldwin is coming on Sunday and I'm trying to round up some help. Never have enough boots on the ground. He's squeezing me in on a Sunday, which he ordinarily never works, because he knows how anxious I am to salvage some wool. Some of the fleeces are too far gone to save. Lambing took a toll on the wool. They put everything into growing the babies. I'm comforted by the fact that I have a box car full of lambs, 34 to be exact, to grow wool for fall shearing. Everybody is thriving on the lush green grass the rain and warm temps have given us. I'm thrilled with the way these Wensleydale/Bluefaced Leicester lambs are turning out. They are tall and sturdy with thick coats. It's hard to tell just how the wool will turn out. I'm hoping for some lustrous curls. The Nubian goat kids are absolutely gorgeous. They leap around gracefully in their own ballet troupe. I'm hoping for some goat milk but the Nubian moms are not anxious to share. I'm letting the babies have their fill for now.