A lambing barn is a happy place!

Our trusty thermometer that doesn’t falsify the temperature (or even exaggerates) recorded a rather cold temperature of eight degrees below zero. The roar of the ferocious winds could be heard through the walls of this insulated farmhouse. From my kitchen window, the world was white with snow on the ground while all sizes of tiny swirling snowflakes filled the skies.

Even though this winter desires to have a place in the meteorologist’s record book, my farmer and I have chores to do.

Because I don’t like to be cold, dressing to go outdoors requires triple pairs of winter socks, gloves (which are never warm enough and make me even clumsier), insulated coveralls, hooded sweatshirt, plus more head gear. If there is a smile or a frown on my face, who can tell?

By Renae B. Vander Schaaf

Anyone who sees me will know I am on mission.

The tiny ice crystals sting the one bare spot on my face. The blinding snow is already a problem. It causes ice to form on the outside of my eye glasses. Because my eyes automatically water when it is cold, the inside of the cold lens freeze immediately from the tears. Sight is practically impossible.

We slip and slide on the ice, walk on top of snowbanks or slip knee-deep into the snow bank whenever it gives way under our weight. At times our attitudes may not be most grateful, but thankfully we can’t hear each other talk. There is no reason for talking under one’s breath, because the wind seems to have emptied the air right out of our lungs.

Finally we reach our destination. I can’t tell if it is new snow resting in front of the door, or if the wind decided to rearrange yesterday’s snow. Nevertheless, a snow scoop is a handy partner this winter.

We breathe a sigh of relief when we step inside the sheep barn. There’s a new sensation, a totally different environment from the one outdoors. Walls made of wood, rafters, some lighting, sheep on the straw — it’s absolutely wonderful!

Once my glasses clear, I search for the plaque that says, “My Happy Place.” There isn’t one, but the atmosphere of the building proclaims the ambiance loud and clear.

Our sheep do not have a modern up-to-date barn. Although we did have fun designing one which could be cleaned with a skid loader, gates that were easy to open and close, and pens for each ewe and lambs. Instead, those two major decision makers — time and money — strongly suggested an old cattle shed we had been using as a chicken house would be the better option.

The laying hens left the farm about the week before the egg price began its rapid rise. On the other hand, the ewe lambs and ram were purchased about the time the sheep price began to decline. Oh … by the way, at the present time we have no intention of purchasing any other livestock, so your livelihoods should be safe for the time being.

My farmer and I found plenty of enjoyment as we worked together on transforming the dilapidated cattle shed into a barn. We decided the building was even older than us. A date on the foundation suggested it had been moved to its present location in the 1960’s when we still looked forward to sledding in winters such as this one.

The building looked quite decrepit. It had so many different angles and slants to it that to get a straight board in was a challenge. It did require some creative carpentry on the part of my farmer.

We had to undo some of the modifications we had done through the years that had made the shed more useful for its purpose at the time. Once our supply of leftover lumber was gone, we made many trips to town to purchase the supplies needed. Whew, there has been a slight price increase since our last project. That’s okay. It had us scouring the buildings to make use of what we had. We found old windows, barn doors and hinges which fit perfect with the shed’s architectural style.

While I am constantly amazed at my famer’s skills, the number of tools he had in his workshop was another cause for wonderment. How they got there is beyond me; but thankfully he had what he needed — so we didn’t have to make more trips to town. They sure came in handy.

He was the designer and master carpenter, I was the extra hand for carrying or holding the plywood sheets in place while they were fastened in securely. My penchant for walking was put to good use going after tools. It was a good idea to listen carefully as he described the color, the look and possible location for the exact saw or drill which was now needed immediately.

The snow began to fall about the day it was no longer a shed but a bona-fide sheep barn. We have to admit that our parents are still right, a manure fork and scoop really do fit our hands. And my mom’s cheerful encouragement, to go outside to do chores helps one to feel and function better is also true. A barn is a mighty fine place to be on a snowy afternoon.

A livestock barn is almost a second home on the farm. The animals require our care. In return, they are appreciative and good listeners. I have always enjoyed spreading a fresh bale of straw on a justcleaned floor. It’s relaxing to watch the animals scratch through it while searching for that bit of