#poddy lambs

[tuesdayinthedas]

Some baby pics for anyone having a bad day

[loriniart]

This is my new character Space Sheep. She is very cute and lovely. She lives in the post-apocalyptic world and collects the plants and animals from Earth and other planets in order to save the life in the Universe. I’m going to make a stickerpack or some more illustration with her.

[doberbutts]

Here’s Kizz meeting our newest poddy lamb. She desperately wants to mother things (recessive genetic disorder meant it wasn’t ethical to breed her). Last year she helped me raise 3 lambs. Hope this makes you smile 😊

Chihuahuas are so loving and nurturing. Fae would make the perfect ESA because I just pick her up when I'm sad and she mooshes herself into my face and chest and Wonderful Living Teddy Bear.

[awwflycat]

One of my old poddy lambs

[merryfortune]

Vrains Rare Pair Week - Day 2

Day 2 / Dec 24 - Fairy Tales / Horror Stories

·         Ship: Takeru/Aoi

  Once upon a time, there was a young king. To call him egotistical would be improper but he was self-absorbed. The King was a man named Akira and he was a man of peace and mind. He did not war monger but, his life was not without strife. Though, much of it was self-imposed.

  One way in which most his strife was self-impose can be best demonstrated by how, one day, he became intrigued by how much the women in his life loved him. Thus, he posed them a question.

  He had his wife and sister heralded to his throne room where he welcomed them with the guise of a game. His wife, the mischievous Queen Ema, and his sister, the near hermitic Princess Aoi, awaited them. Both were eager to bond. It felt like their darling King never paid any attention to either of them due to his tenuous work as king.

  Akira looked down upon them and then asked: “How much do you two love me?”

  Such a question elicited a look between Ema and Aoi which was incredulous to say the least, but they relented. They played along nonetheless. Ema sighed and smiled.

  “You are the apple of my eye, the love of my life.” she replied in due earnestness.

  Aoi shifted. “I love you as much as the salt on my food…” she murmured.

  Ema glanced at her sister-in-law and then unto her husband. She blinked. She smiled and was intrigued by such a statement.

  King Akira, however, was not as benevolent in reaction. In fact, far from it. He was enraged by the response his sister had given him. His wife had doused him in fair praise, but his sister seemed to have little response. His brow knitted together.

  “Ema, my love, for your reply, I want you to go find the royal seamstress immediately and have her make a new gown for you.” Akira said and then his sharp eyes fell over to Aoi. “However, Aoi, because of your response, I want you stripped of your privileges as princess for a whole year. In this year, I want you to live as a peasant. I have spoiled you too much if you feel it fit to bite the hand which feeds you. I want you to repent for your lack of love for me, your elder brother.”

  Aoi attempted to protest but, as it was said – so it was done.

  She was escorted out by one of the royal knights and taken to her chambers. She gathered what she could. She took a few of her finer dresses and some of her jewellery. Once she had made her selections of what possessions she would take with her in the big, wide world she had been spurned onto, she was then banished from the castle.

  She was taken to the edge of the capital and told to live as she pleased so long as it was under the guise of being a common woman and not a princess. Aoi obeyed. She traded in some of her clothes and jewels for money. However, there was one thing Aoi would never sell and that was her signet ring with a four-leaf clover design. That ring was far too precious to ever go without. With that money, she purchased more common clothes as she realised someone might be more willing to take her as a board if she looked like she could do the hard yards.

  So, for a few days, she flitted from building to building in search of work. Each day, the clothes she wore grew dirtier and dirtier despite her best efforts to keep clean. It was on the end of her second week as a supposed peasant girl that she found work. A cheery shepherd and his quiet son took her on as a watcher of their fields.

  There, Aoi grew accustomed to her new life as a shepherdess. She was awkward, and they were awkward with her but soon, they grew. She came to understand them as people. Their names were Shoichi and Yusaku; Yusaku had a job in the town as a baker and thus, was no longer interested in taking shifts in the field with his assumed father. They were good people though. They didn’t pry and gave her the space she needed. They didn’t even ask why such an improvised girl as her would be in possession of such a marvellous signet ring as hers. Thus, it was a quiet household that was often without gossip or event. But, it was nice. Aoi preferred it that way, to be honest.

  Time passed quicker than Aoi thought it would. Before she knew it, she had been working with Shoichi and Yusaku for about six months. Her days as a princess now seemed a life time away and yet, her days resuming as such seemed so close. After all, another six months and she would be permitted to re-joining her family at the castle.

  But, it was at this mid-point that Aoi found herself nostalgic for the fine silks and makeup that she used to wear. She sighed. But, as she fell deeper into these feelings, she came to a conclusion. Yusaku was at work with the bakers and Shoichi had taken some stock to market to sell. She would have a few hours to herself and thus, her mind wandered, and ideas bloomed.

  Rather than don the guise of the peasant girl, Aoi decided to bedeck herself in her decadent dresses. She chose the powdery blue one with white accents. She twirled around the house in it, content with herself. But, alas, she looked out the window and saw that the troublesome poddy lamb – Ai – had gotten loose again; likely in search of his favourite companion, Yusaku.

  Without enough time to get changed, Aoi resolved to simply fulfil her duties in a ballgown rather than anything practical. So, she charged out – high heels and all – into the field. She dragged Ai by the scruff of his neck before he could get too far down the road and tied him up again.

  Ai brayed at her, whining. Aoi stuck her tongue out back. Ai was full of personality. She then went inside and tried to fix Ai something to drink; some milk. She came back and fed him as is. Then, once she finished feeding Ai, she felt too exhausted to get changed again. So, she sighed and relented.

  Today, she would simply wear what she desired for her work. So, for a few hours, she tended the fields in her stunning, powder blue dress with angelic motifs. It was kind of fun. More fun than wearing her drab brown uniform.

  As Aoi tended the fields, she thought alone, she was completely unaware that someone had spotted her in her dress.

  The young and vivacious Prince Takeru had come to visit. He and his carriage and all his men passed by the field in which Aoi tended, completely unaware. He had come on royal duties as he was from a seaside kingdom faraway, nothing like the landlocked capital of Sol Vrains, Den City. He wanted to discuss treaties with King Akira, among other things such as see the sights.

  And the sights he saw! He never thought he would ever see such a beautiful shepherdess. He fell in love with the sight of her and all her sheep as they mowed around her and her gorgeous gown. Immediately, Prince Takeru was struck with the arrow of love.

  However, being of the temperament he was – which was to say outlandish and ridiculous – his love burned so hard that it robbed him of his energy. He had always been of a peculiar constitution; sometimes, he was frail and other times he was seemingly indestructible. No one could ever predict his health, and no one could have predicted how the beautiful shepherdess he had fallen in love with had impacted him.

  As he passed by and into the city, he grew sick with yearning and love for the girl he didn’t even know. He was ailed so harshly by this infatuation that his body grew weak and he failed to meet with Prince Akira at the time they had appointed for conversations of the princely and kingly duties.

  His royal doctor, and childhood friend, Kiku attempted to heal him but none of her remedies worked. Thus, Takeru took her hand and smiled.

  “Kiku, the only cure for my sickness is to eat a loaf of bread prepared by the beautiful shepherdess from the field.” he told her with a quivering voice.

  Kiku sighed and realised that if his illness was emotional, then there was nothing she could do with herb and spell.  She wished desperately that she could chastise her Prince for being so ridiculous but as his friend, she decided not to lest he become wounded. So, she relented. Kiku organised a search party. She and Takeru’s men scoured all of Den City in search of the shepherdess who tended her sheep in such an impractical yet gorgeous outfit.

  They asked and asked but no one knew the girl they spoke of. But, with Takeru’s health growing dire, Kiku decided to resort to drastic measures. Instead, she returned to the farm that they had passed by – the one where they saw the girl.

  “I come in the name of Prince Takeru,” she told Shoichi and Yusaku, “and our prince is gravely ill with love. Does a woman live here?”

  “Yeah, we’ve got a girl boarding with us.” Shoichi replied.

  “Does she know how to bake?” Kiku asked.

  “Yeah.” Yusaku replied.

  “Excellent. Now, is by any chance, you would be interested in what might constitute as treason? I desire to con my Prince into think he’s eating the bread made by his fictitious love. I mean, what sort of shepherdess wears a ball gown whilst with her sheep?”

  “What?” Aoi piped up as she came down stairs to see what the fuss was. Her eyes widened.

 “Regardless, I think that if Prince Takeru thinks that he’s eating bread made by such a woman, he will be cured of his ridiculous infatuation.” Kiku finished.

  “Oh look, speak of the devil,” Shoichi said and he ushered Aoi closer, “here’s the girl you’re looking for. Our blue rose in this den of men.”

  “You flatter me, Shoichi.” Aoi replied awkwardly.

  “So, would you be willing? Just one loaf of bread.”

  “Very well then…” Aoi murmured.

  Kiku stayed a while. Aoi, in the meantime, baked the bread – with some input from Yusaku. He always found it strange that things as simple as baking bread sometimes seemed a touch beyond Aoi’s skill set. Regardless, come the eventide, Kiku was sent off with a warm loaf of bread.

  And Aoi realised something awful. As she washed her hands, she realised that her signet ring – the one her parents gave her before their untimely demise – had disappeared. She tore apart the house in search of it but quickly came to a grim conclusion: she had accidentally baked it into the loaf of bread.

  A conclusion that soon proved correct.

  Kiku arrived at the castle and was quickly whisked up to Prince Takeru’s guest room. She handed over the bread, still warm, and Prince Takeru serenely unwound the cloth that covered it. He smiled. He broke off a piece and began eating it. Already his flushed cheeks paled, and his clammy complexion improved. Kiku smiled.

  But then, Prince Takeru bit into the ring. He removed it from his mouth and his eyes widened. They glittered and Kiku’s heart dropped.

  “The beautiful shepherdess,” he began breathlessly, “she must requite me. Hence why this is in the bread she gave me. Did you swear you to secrecy?”

  Kiku, unable to respond, merely nodded.

  Prince Takeru put aside the bread and forced himself to his feet. He was as unsteady as a foal. He grabbed his coat, a burning crimson, and he grinned.

  “Take me to this girl at once, I want to be married to her!” he announced.

  Kiku was flabbergasted and there was nothing she could do. Her Prince Takeru bore onwards and was soon, by demand, taken to the cottage at the edge of town – to the inelegant surprise of the men who lived there.

  “I am Prince Takeru!” he said as he banged on the door. “And I wish to become the betrothed of the shepherdess who lives here!”

  Ai cooed from his yard, intrigued.

  Shoichi opened the door to Prince Takeru. “The girl who lives here doesn’t even know how to bake bread properly. You don’t want to marry her.”

  “Fiend, you must want her for yourself.” Prince Takeru spat.

  “I can assure you otherwise.” Shoichi countered.

  He hazarded a look over his shoulder, “Yusaku, where’s Aoi?”

  Yusaku shrugged.

  “I’m here.” Aoi said.

  And, again, she descended down the stairs of the two-tier cottage and all eyes widened. She wore a pastel blue dress with white, angel-themed decals.

  “So, I hear you found my ring.” Aoi said.

  Prince Takeru barged past Shoichi and Yusaku. It seemed there was little they could do to stop him. Though, Kiku apologised profusely in lieu of the prince.

  Aoi stepped off the final ledge. “It’s good to meet you, Prince Takeru. I’ve heard of you. I’m Princess Aoi of Sol Vrains.”

  “You’re WHO?” Shoichi yelled.

  “I am the hermit princess, Aoi of Sol Vrains: my brother, Akira, is the king.” Princess Aoi said.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Princess Aoi.” Prince Takeru said.

  “By the gods…” Kiku gasped.

  “We had a princess living with us this whole goddamn time?” Shoichi snapped at Yusaku.

  “Apparently.” Yusaku shrugged back.

  “Now, Princess Aoi,” Prince Takeru said as he readied the four-leaf clover ring, “I would like to ask for your hand in marriage. As immediately as possible.”

  “I accept. On two conditions.” Princess Aoi replied.

  “Whatever you ask. No feat is too herculean.” Prince Takeru replied.

  “The first of which is that I want my brother to be in attendance and to have a seat of honour. The second of my conditions is that I shall be the one to prepare your meal our wedding.” Princess Aoi said.

  “…Huh?” Shoichi exclaimed; still too dazed by the whole situation to realise that two of royal blood had just gotten engaged under his roof.

  “Easy.” Prince Takeru beamed. “I look forward to your cooking, Aoi.”

  And thus, a wedding was held in Den City and what a grand wedding it was. Folks from all walks of life got together for it. From those held in esteem in the country Prince Takeru represented to the likes of Shoichi and Yusaku, as well as their poddy lamb Ai. With, of course, King Akira and Queen Ema in attendance.

  The ceremony was grandiose and the kiss that sealed it was warm. The dinner party that ensued in the castle simmered. Plates upon plates of food. All of it was beautiful and well made. Everyone, bar Prince Takeru, was soon given something to eat and to say grace before.

  As in accordance with her conditions, it was Princess Aoi who brought out the final plate. She held it closely. Compared to that of the professional chefs, it was meagre and even ugly looking but from afar, Prince Takeru eyed it with eagerness. Princess Aoi smiled. Her heart fluttered upon such a look.

  “Here you go, my husband.” she said. “Now, you are not allowed to change a single thing about it. You will eat it as I have prepared it.”

  “With pleasure, my wife.” Prince Takeru replied.

  King Akira, sitting adjacent to such a lovey-dovey scene harrumphed to the amusement of his wife.

  Princess Aoi took her seat beside her husband her brother.

  “Thank you for this meal.” Prince Takeru exclaimed.

  He then took arms against his food. He ate it with great vigour. Princess Aoi smiled but then, Prince Takeru placed his knife and fork down.

  “It needs… salt.” Prince Takeru said.

  “Like I said, you must eat it as I have prepared it. Even if it requires salt, like you believe.” Princess Aoi replied, very seriously.

  “But its really, really good – I didn’t mean any offence.” Prince Takeru hastily added.

  “I know, my love,” Prince Aoi glanced at her brother, “I know.”

  And thus, in that moment, King Akira had a moment of thunderstruck disbelief. When he had asked his sister – in the game – how much did she love him? He had misunderstood.

[fairyofthefriz]

Possibly just sprained my ankle trying to catch one of the poddy lambs

Bunny, thou art a cunt

[electronswrites]

Zatanna's Chapter!

Zatanna's chapter didn't get much of a reception. I'm going with the assumption that the plot-heavy chapters are less interesting. I think I'll cut the investigation subplot and just focus on drama and shenanigans.

The investigation subplot will still happen, but all "off-screen." The focus will be on Bruce's angst and Dickie's cuteness. I'm open to feedback though. Anyone feel intrigued by the mystery?

Anyway, in the spirit of Dickie cuteness and Bruce angst, here's the first half of Dinah's chapter.

Mother

Dinah stood inside Dick’s bedroom, looking around by the light the hallway lent the room. There was a Flying Graysons poster on the wall and a framed photograph of said Graysons on the nightstand. Dinah examined the little family. Dick appeared to be about seven in the photograph, his smile missing a tooth from the top row. Mary Grayson, dressed in an identical sparkly costume to her son, had her hand on his shoulder. Red hair flowed over her bare shoulders.

Dinah bit her lip. She averted her eyes. After spending even a small amount of time with Dickie, Dinah could tell Mary had been a loving and attentive mother. The ease with which Dick asked for help and made his needs known indicated that communication in his household was very healthy. It was clear that the Graysons modeled that behavior for their son by being respectful to each other and him.

There were other things in the room. There was a math trophy and a Superman alarm clock on the desk. There were books on the bookcase in several different languages. On the nightstand, next to the photograph and a golden necklace, was Dick’s current read, which seemed to be in Arabic. Dinah grinned as the small child snuggled up with his lamb blanket again. Dinah pulled the chair in front of Dick’s desk up to his bedside and sat down.

She watched him for a minute, just thinking. Dick Grayson was important to many different people across their community. He was a bright and promising young hero. There was a possibility, slim though she hoped it was, that the Dick Grayson they knew was gone. It was possible that the child in front of her was all they had left of him.

The possibility raised an interesting philosophical question. Dinah believed in souls. She believed that an individual’s essence was intertwined but not synonymous with their physical body. She believed the child in front of her was Dick Grayson, even if he had no memory of any of the events that formed the image of Dick Grayson in her mind.

Dinah didn’t think that Dick’s regression in age equated to the death of his older self, but she wasn’t naive enough to think that no one else would feel that way if a method to reverse the process wasn’t found. Yet, despite her own spiritual beliefs, she felt a sense of loss at the idea that she might never see the Boy Wonder jump off a building to kick a mobster in the teeth again. Dinah sighed, and then she gave a sad smile to the sleeping toddler. His brow was unfurrowed, and his rest looked peaceful. “I’m glad you don’t have to consider such things, little bird,” she whispered.

He continued to sleep, and she continued to watch him, thinking. Dinah looked out the window at the twinkling stars. Zatanna hadn’t texted her again since her message stating she was at the meeting spot. Dinah had no way of knowing if the tests had revealed anything. All she could do was wait.

Dinah heard a whimpering sound. She glanced at Dickie. He was squirming in the bed and biting his lip. Dinah reached out and touched his shoulder. He opened his eyes to look at her.

“What’s wrong, Robin?” She used his superhero name without thinking, but he responded to it as if she had used his real name.

“Need poddy,” the toddler said in a miserable voice. Dickie rubbed his eye with his small fist.

“Sure thing, kiddo, do you need help?” She held out her arms as an offer to carry him. He looked far too exhausted to walk.

Dick shook his head. “Wan Mommy,” he insisted.

Dinah flinched. “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. She isn’t back yet.”

Dick sat up. He looked around the room. “Mommy!” He directed his shout at the open door, as if Mary Grayson was just down the hall. “Mommy! Need hep! Need poddy!”

Dinah went over to the lightswitch and flicked it on. Dick was frowning, his lower lip wobbling. Dinah aimed her brightest, most reassuring smile at him. “I’m sorry your mom isn’t here right now. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Daddy! Mommy!” Dick was ignoring Dinah. He threw his balled up fists down on the bed. Dinah sensed a tantrum brewing.

Dinah walked over to the bed and sat down next to Dick. “Honey, I-”

“Oway! Wan Mommy! Wan Daddy! Weave me wone!” Dick started crying, and he slammed his fists into the mattress again.

“Okay,” Dinah agreed. “I’ll leave you by yourself, but do you want me to show you where the bathroom is first?”

Dick looked at Dinah. His eyes were overflowing with salty tears, but he nodded. “Need poddy,” he explained again, sounding miserable and helpless.

Dinah offered Dick her arms again. He shook his head. He crawled out of the bed, hanging on with his chest as he lowered his legs to the floor. Dick walked to the door by himself, and Dinah followed. When Dick got to the hall, he opened his mouth wide and shouted. “Mommy! Daddy!”

Dinah flinched again. “Dickie, can we use our inside voice?” Dinah kept her tone soft and her volume low.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Dick stamped his foot on the ground. “Whew you?!”

Alfred Pennyworth entered the hall, wearing something other than a suit for the first time since Dinah had met him. The flannel pajamas didn’t make him look any less formal in her mind though. “Hello, Master Dick. Is everything alright?” Dinah admired the way he projected calm and composure, modeling the reaction he wanted from Dick.

“Wan my Mommy! Wan my Daddy! Whew ey?”

Alfred walked up to Dick and then knelt down in front of him. “I’m so sorry, dear boy,” he said in a voice full of emotion. “They can’t be here right now. I know they would want to be more than anything, but they can’t. Miss. Lance and I would be happy to help you with anything you need in their absence though.”

Dick burst into loud, wailing sobs. Dinah flinched. “I’m so sorry,��� she told Aflred. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Alfred waved her off. “It has been a long time since I’ve been able to sleep through the night. My internal clock has grown accustomed to it.” He reached out and pulled Dick into a hug.

Dick sobbed into Alfred’s shoulder, loud, wet sobs. “He needs to use the bathroom,” Dinah explained. “I think he’s scared of being in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people. It’s a normal reaction for a child his age.”

“Quite so,” Alfred agreed. “I will handle this. You have been awake all night. You should get some sleep.”

Dinah wanted to protest, but she knew Alfred was right. There was a lot that needed doing, and it didn’t make sense for them to run themselves into the ground. She cast a mournful look at the miserable toddler and then made her way to one of the many guest rooms she knew the location of. Dinah shucked off her jacket and kicked off her shoes. She fell onto the bed in her tights and tank top.

Dinah wasn’t aware of falling asleep. She didn’t even register that her head had hit the pillow until she was waking up to her phone screaming at her. Dinah grabbed for her jacket from the comfort of Bruce’s luxurious guest bed. She dug in the pockets for her angry phone. She dropped the jacket back onto the floor and then put the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” Her voice was thick with exhaustion.

“Are you in Gotham?!”

“Roy? What time is it?” Dinah glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost eight.

“Where’s Robin?!”

Dinah sighed. She sat up. There was no hope of getting back to sleep. She noticed a nice silk bathrobe hanging from a hook by the door and decided it would be more comfortable than her wrinkled and dirty jacket. She slipped into it while she listened to Roy yell. “None of us have been able to get a hold of him! Wally called over a hundred times!”

“He’s safe, Roy. There was a little mishap, but we’re working on it.”

“You should have called the Titans in! If it involves Robin, it involves us! He’s our leader! I want to talk to him.”

Dinah tightened the robe and then walked into the hall. She rubbed at the headache forming in her prefrontal cortex. “He can’t really talk to you right-”

“Why not?! You said he was safe! Is he injured?! Is he unconscious?! Is he in a coma?! What’s going on?!”

Dinah looked up at the ceiling. She loved Roy; she really did. Sometimes she just needed to remind herself of that fact. He was like a son to her, a loud disrespectful son. “Roy, something did happen, but I promise you that Robin isn’t injured. Once we know more, I might be able to tell you something, but for now I can’t, okay?”

“Ugh! You’re the worst! Okay, Ollie, okay! Ollie wants to talk to you.” Dinah heard the phone get handed off.

“Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?”

Dinah couldn’t help but to smile. The sound of Ollie’s voice alone was enough to lift her spirits. She was well and truly smitten. “As well as usual.”

“Oh no. That bad?”

Dinah snorted laughter. “It’s a bit of a mess over here, lover.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Dinah considered that. “Run interference with the Titans and try to keep them from storming the watchtower and taking over the Justice League?”

Oliver laughed. “We all know they're going to do that one day eventually, but I can try to keep it from happening today. Hang on a second.”

Dinah heard him shout to Roy in the distance. “We’re talking about how much we love you because we’re gross and weird old people! Decide where you want to go for breakfast! I don’t feel like cooking!”

“Okay, I’m back,” he said, voice sounding normal again. “Roy is mad at us for talking about him. Teenagers, am I right?”

Dinah thought about the young Bruce Wayne. A seed of an idea germinated in her mind. “You have no idea,” she told him. “Babe, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Make Roy eat a vegetable.”

“You got it, hot stuff. I love you.”

Warmth rose in her cheeks. “I love you too.” She hung up the phone. Then she almost jumped out of her skin.

“Who were you talking to?”

Dinah turned to face Bruce, her hand flying to her chest, right over her heart. She hadn’t realized that teenage Bruce Wayne was as good at silent movement as his adult self. Although she was open to the possibility that her sleep-addled mind was to blame. “My boyfriend,” she answered.

“Oh,” he said, looking somewhat disappointed. Dinah bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning, because if that wasn’t just the cutest thing, she’d pay the Flash’s grocery bill for a month. “Is he nice?”

“Ollie is the nicest person I know,” Dinah said.

Bruce made an annoyed face. “I know an Ollie. He’s the worst.”

“Oh?” Dinah gave him an interested look. “Why is that?”

“He’s a spoiled rich brat,” Bruce said, sounding annoyed. “I know I’m rich and spoiled too, but I’m not half as bad as him. He’s so annoying, and he thinks he’s cool, but he’s the opposite of cool. He’s one of my least favorite people in the world.” Bruce glanced at Dinah. “Oh, but um, I’m sure your Ollie is great.”

Dinah snickered. “I like him, and that’s enough for me.”

Bruce nodded. “I told Alfred I would get Dickie ready for breakfast. Do you want to help?”

Dinah nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “I would like that very much.”

Deaged Bruce and Dick based on this post by @electronswrites

[pkstudiosindia]

Raising lambs takes on new directions as farmers work hard to keep mum and babies healthy – ABC News

Featured Post in Water Filter India dot com - Water Filter India

Farmers are being educated in strategies to enhance the survival of a number of-beginning lambs and the necessity to apply powerful love to the elevating of poddy lambs.

Key factors:

Scans and preparation are boosting lamb survival chargesPrivacy in beginning is nice for ewes and lambsTough love can assist lambs survival

Paddocks are filling with spring lambs, and twins and triplets are frequent throughout southern Australia.

Rural advisor and Victorian farmer, Jason Trompf mentioned 2020, specifically with the higher seasonal situations, had actually led to a larger reproductive charge.

“It’s a 20 to 30 per cent enchancment, on the again of fine rains and a gentle winter.

Orphan lambs conserving one another firm on the farm.(Supplied: Fi Hume)

“When you get these type of lifts there are extra a number of births, and it is the survival of the a number of birthing ewe and their younger that we have actually been focussing on,” he mentioned

Mr Trompf works with farmers to prioritise time and care, significantly to these which can be having a number of births.

“The key’s to scan the pregnant ewe, so you realize her circumstances,” he mentioned.

Forewarned is forearmed

According to analysis led by Agriculture Victoria into the influence of lambing density on lamb survival, initially, it’s that essential ewes spend a minimum of six hours on the birthing website with their new lamb, to bond efficiently.

Mr Trompf, who has been concerned within the analysis and trials on nearly 100 farms throughout Australia, mentioned the variety of ewes was diminished within the mob, then there can be fewer ewes lambing in sooner or later.

Rural Consultant, Jason Trompf, says ewes want birthing privateness.(Supplied: ABC Rural)

Find extra rural information

The analysis is advocating a sort of subdivision on the farm, so there’s a smaller variety of ewes lambing in every particular person paddock.

Farmers are utilizing short-term fencing or extra everlasting fencing to do this technique.

According to the trials, when you take out 100 ewes from a twin lambing mob, analysis has discovered a 2.5 per cent enchancment in twin lamb survival.

“Research continues to be ongoing on triplets, however triplet survival appears to be rather more responsive to mob measurement and might be within the order of 10 per cent enchancment,” Mr Trompf mentioned.

They have both been rejected by their mums or they’re slightly sickly.

New strategy to elevating lambs

Southern Tasmanian veterinarian, Libby Cooper, has 26 orphans on her household farm.

Dr Libby Cooper is trialling a New Zealand strategy to lamb rearing.(ABC Rural: Fiona Breen)

She has taken some suggestions from a New Zealand trial and is having good outcomes along with her lambs on the household property within the Derwent Valley.

“Once upon a time, every lamb had a person bottle, and they received fed three or 4 instances a day. They have been saved shut to the home, and they have been very humanised,” Dr Cooper mentioned.

This yr she has determined to change tack and undertake some totally different practices.

It’s a type of powerful love

“It’s a normal fingers-off coverage with our poddy lambs,” she mentioned.

She mentioned there was no cuddling, no letting them in the home and lots much less hand feeding and it is working.

Tasmanian lamb triplets have elevated this yr.(ABC TV)

“We’ve had very minimal losses of our poddy lambs, it is a much less fingers on and time-consuming,�� she mentioned.

It can also be simpler on the farmer’s household.

“They have been menaces. They knew the place to discover the rose backyard,” Dr Cooper mentioned.

When the ewes are giving beginning, Dr Cooper retains an eye fixed on the flock and proactively picks out any of the multiples that look slightly weak.

“They come into a primary pen of the shearing shed the place it’s heat, we are able to be certain that they’re kicking objectives and ingesting from a bottle, then they transfer right into a second pen the place they’ve free entry to milk in any respect levels,” she mentioned.

Once they’re rising and feeding properly, they transfer into a 3rd pen which is lots much less hands-on and they get out into the paddock.

“We’ve had very minimal losses of our poddy lambs, and it is lots much less time consuming,” mentioned Dr Cooper.

Other methods the younger vet is having success with is probiotics within the milk and swapping heat milk feeds for chilly milk.

She mentioned it diminished the probabilities of micro organism of micro organism thriving and lowers their reliance on treating lambs with antibiotics.

The massive check would be the economics. Next yr the younger vet will do the numbers and work out simply how value-efficient the “powerful love” strategy is.

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[morganbelarus]

The land falls silent: Australian farmers battle life without rain

Years of drought across New South Wales and Queensland force graziers to question their future

Nearly 40km from Augathella (population 450), Doug and Rachelle Cameron load supplements for their cattle. The day is typical for an Australian drought, still and silent as if the landscape has gone to sleep.

Their children Stirling, 11, Ella, 8 and Grace, 6 jump out of the ute and kick around the dust and cow pats as their cattle mill around the water troughs. Muffy the overgrown grey poddy calf comes up to watch. A birds nest sits in the struts of a disused windmill.

Their 34,000 acre station, Nive Downs, is 750km inland from Brisbane in south-west Queensland and they are facing their fifth year of drought. For the Camerons, the big dry started after the floods of 2012. Like most diligent farmers, they have tried to cut down their herd to take pressure off pastures and ensure they dont need to spend too much on feed.

The couple met in agricultural college. Rachelle grew up on a cattle property on the coast, all green pastures, rivers and mountains, a stark contrast to the flat dry country around Augathella.

Most people around here are pretty active in de-stocking, they have sold replacement heifers but we are lucky in that we have kept our dry stock but they will be going pretty shortly if it doesnt rain, says Rachelle.

Drought has dominated the media debate in Australia in the past month after the whole of New South Wales was drought declared. Further north though, a majority of Queensland has been in drought for up to seven years. Myriad charities have sprung up raising cash, fodder and services for farmers. Tradesmen are offering to fix sheds, knitting clubs are making little jackets for orphaned lambs, city residents are travelling inland to inject cash into small towns via a coffee and a pie.

Debate over drought and climate change was only briefly eclipsed by the latest overthrow of an Australian prime minister as Malcolm Turnbull was deposed by members of his own Liberal party. He toppled the previous prime minister Tony Abbott in 2015, a few years after this latest drought began.

While most Australian farmers prepare for drought, the latest dry in the eastern states is lingering on and most have eaten through their reserves; of fodder, cash and patience. In a normal year, the Cameron family gets 19 inches of annual rainfall on Nive Downs, yet near the end of August they have only had six. Talk turns to what normal is.

The new norm seems to be drier and hotter over the years we have been here with our average summer temperatures, Rachelle says. I wouldnt say [climate change] is not happening. It seems to be all or nothing in the country.

The Camerons have cut their breeder herd of Angus Charolais cross down from 1,300 to 900 and they are preparing for the possibility they will not get their usual summer rain. Again. They are also trying to increase cash flow by diversifying into production of Nive Beef jerky. It was an idea Doug hit on after a cattle price crash due to a temporary live export ban in 2011 which caused prices to plummet to $50 a head. He stopped at a roadhouse on the way back from the saleyards and saw a 25g packet of beef jerky for $5.

I thought I could sell 10 of those and its the same as the price for the whole cow, says Doug.

It didnt matter what I did to the cattle, we could have the best genetics, the best everything, but outside influences just crushed us. I thought maybe we can make something out of the jerky and set the price.

Drought affected pastures near Wyandra, Queensland, Australia. Photograph: Mike Bowers for the Guardian

The last big drought was from the late 1990s to 2010, known as the Millennium drought, when southern Australia suffered persistent dry periods but northern Australia got above average rainfall. In previous droughts, a section of the farm sector resisted the science of climate change, but this time more farmers are considering the possibilities.

Last week, the first female president of the National Farmers Federation, Fiona Simson, declared climate change would make droughts worse. Days earlier, her predecessor Brent Finlay criticised politicians for jumping in front of cameras in drought while failing to create effective policy to deal with drought and climate change.

The farm lobby also accused the Coalition government of failing to implement a national drought policy.

The drought has got tangled up in energy policy which was used as a stalking horse by conservative Liberals, in some cases climate deniers, to overthrow their more progressive leader Turnbull. After losing the Liberal leadership in 2009 over climate change, Turnbull later became prime minister and tried to implement a technology neutral energy policy. Conservative Liberals want their government to subsidise coal and gas. As they fought amongst themselves, the spectre of drought amplified the climate change debate, the energy mix and power prices.

Louise and Andrew Martin have a sheep property an hour north of the Camerons around Tambo. The station is in Mitchell grass country, an old inland sea, 860km north-west of Brisbane. Their fertile black soil swells and contracts with heat and rain. Andrew takes a long term view on climate as he holds an ancient ammonite fossil, disgorged by paddocks. Rather than debate climate change, Andrew is more interested in preparing for whatever climate throws at him.

The best way of dealing with drought is accepting you are going to have one, Andrew says.

The Martins prepared by making 200 bales of hay off their pastures in good years but they produced fewer lambs since the drought took hold and that means less income for to pay debts. Still, they dont believe in subsidies. Andrew, who is also mayor of the Blackhall-Tambo region, would rather see funding go to councils to create work for locals by upgrading infrastructure such as roads and community buildings.

There is no better anti-depressant than hope, hope is cash, cash comes from work, work comes from jobs, cash goes back into the business, he says.

Drought affected land near Tambo, Queensland, Australia. Photograph: Mike Bowers for the Guardian

As for individual businesses, Andrew follows his own stabbed rodent theory rather than what he calls agrarian socialism.He believes subsidies create dependency.

So we just get out of this drought and fall into the next bastard and instead of recognising we have had a gift from the Almighty with great rain and go like a stabbed rodent to build up a bit of fat for the next pinch, people say if we get into trouble, someone will help us. They will give us a payout.

Like the Camerons, the Martins have also tried to diversify. Andrew breeds donkeys which are used by some sheep producers as flock guards for lambing to ward off wild dogs. Five years ago at the beginning of the drought, they banded together with neighbours to build a cluster fence around the outside of their properties to keep out the dogs. It improved their lambing and increased social interaction in one of their driest years on record.

The people within the cluster got together monthly to discuss the fence over beer and dinner at the pub, it gave us a really positive goal, says Louise.

Otherwise each day limps into another. Even in the worst times, you have to get away, go to the beach for a week and thats for sanity as much as anything. Its good for the soul.

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[electronswrites]

Instead of the next part of the Zatanna chapter, I want to show you guys the beginning of Canary's chapter, because they (kind of) take place at the same time and it (sort of) makes up for the serious Dickie deficiency in Zatanna's chapter.

Loss

Dinah stood inside Dick’s bedroom, looking around by the light the hallway lent the room. There was a Flying Graysons poster on the wall and a framed photograph of said Graysons on the nightstand. Dinah examined the little family. Dick appeared to be about seven in the photograph, his smile missing a tooth from the top row. Mary Grayson, dressed in an identical sparkly costume to her son, had her hand on his shoulder. Red hair flowed over her bare shoulders.

Dinah bit her lip. She averted her eyes. Even after spending a small amount of time with Dickie, Dinah could tell Mary had been a loving and attentive mother. The ease with which Dick asked for help and made his needs known indicated that communication in his household was very healthy. It was clear that the Graysons modeled that behavior for their son by being respectful to each other and him.

There were other things in the room. There was a math trophy and a Superman alarm clock on the desk. There were books on the bookcase in several different languages. On the nightstand, next to the photograph and a golden necklace, was Dick’s current read, which seemed to be in Arabic. Dinah grinned as the small child snuggled up with his lamb blanket again. Dinah pulled the chair in front of Dick’s desk up to his bedside and sat down.

She watched him for a minute, just thinking. Dick Grayson was important to many different people across their community. He was a bright and promising young hero. There was a possibility, slim though she hoped it was, that the Dick Grayson they knew was gone. It was possible that the child in front of her was all they had left of him.

The possibility raised an interesting philosophical question. Dinah believed in souls. She believed that an individual’s essence was intertwined but not synonymous with their physical body. She believed the child in front of her was Dick Grayson, even if he had no memory of any of the events that formed the image of Dick Grayson in her mind.

Dinah didn’t think that Dick’s regression in age equated to the death of his older self, but she wasn’t naive enough to think that no one else would feel that way if a method to reverse the process wasn’t found. Yet, despite her own spiritual beliefs, she felt a sense of loss at the idea that she might never see the Boy Wonder jump off a building to kick a mobster in the teeth again. Dinah sighed, and then she gave a sad smile to the sleeping toddler. His brow was unfurrowed, and his rest looked peaceful. “I’m glad you don’t have to consider such things, little bird,” she whispered.

He continued to sleep, and she continued to watch him, thinking. Dinah looked out the window at the twinkling stars. Zatanna hadn’t texted her again since her message stating she was at the meeting spot. Dinah had no way of knowing if the tests had revealed anything. All she could do was wait.

Dinah heard a whimpering sound. She glanced at Dickie. He was squirming in the bed and biting his lip. Dinah reached out and touched his shoulder. He opened his eyes to look at her.

“What’s wrong, Robin?” She used his superhero name without thinking, but he responded to it as if she had used his real name.

“Need poddy,” the toddler said in a miserable voice. Dickie rubbed his eye with his small fist.

“Sure thing, kiddo, do you need help?” She held out her arms as an offer to carry him. He looked far too exhausted to walk.

Dick shook his head. “Wan Mommy,” he insisted.

Dinah flinched. “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. She isn’t back yet.”

Dick sat up. He looked around the room. “Mommy!” He directed his shout at the open door, as if Mary Grayson was just down the hall. “Mommy! Need hep! Need poddy!”

Dinah went over to the lightswitch and flicked it on. Dick was frowning, his lower lip wobbling. Dinah aimed her brightest, most reassuring smile at him. “I’m sorry your mom isn’t here right now. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Daddy! Mommy!” Dick was ignoring Dinah. He threw his balled up fists down on the bed. Dinah sensed a tantrum brewing.

Dinah walked over to the bed and sat down next to Dick. “Honey, I-”

“Oway! Wan Mommy! Wan Daddy! Weave me wone!” Dick started crying, and he slammed his fists into the mattress again.

“Okay,” Dinah agreed. “I’ll leave you by yourself, but do you want me to show you where the bathroom is first?”

Dick looked at Dinah. His eyes were overflowing with salty tears, but he nodded. “Need poddy,” he explained again, sounding miserable and helpless.

Dinah offered Dick her arms again. He shook his head. He crawled out of the bed, hanging on with his chest as he lowered his legs to the floor. Dick walked to the door by himself, and Dinah followed. When Dick got to the hall, he opened his mouth wide and shouted. “Mommy! Daddy!”

Dinah flinched again. “Dickie, can we use our inside voice?” Dinah kept her tone soft and her volume low.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Dick stamped his foot on the ground. “Whew you?!”

Alfred Pennyworth entered the hall, wearing something other than a suit for the first time since Dinah had met him. The flannel pajamas didn’t make him look any less formal in her mind though. “Hello, Master Dick. Is everything alright?” Dinah admired the way he projected calm and composure, modeling the reaction he wanted from Dick.

“Wan my Mommy! Wan my Daddy! Whew ey?”

Superman's Arc is Done

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So, thoughts? Theories? Who's behind all this? Who's the next PoV character going to be? What's going on??? Share your musings! 💕

Read From Beginning

[baebeemumma-blog]

All In

We don’t do things in halves! If the past is anything to go by, we use the pending birth of our children as ultimate deadlines.

When I was pregnant with Bronte we decided to renovate. And I mean really renovate. It wasn’t the old DIY home improvements. We changed our 1950’s 3 bedroom red brick house into a modern 5 bedroom home, redoing a bathroom and adding a nursery and parents retreat complete with a large walk in robe and ensuite. We planned and agreed upon completing this during the pregnancy, and went to the extremes to fulfil those plans, painting the final skirtingboards for three hours during prelabour. Prelabour. It sounds mild enough, and perhaps for some people it is. For me, it was 20 hours of contractions, progressively growing in length and pain. Exhausting! As I held our first born baby girl in my arms, the carpet was being laid.

When we fell pregnant with Alexis we decided a farm would be a great place to bring up our children. We had always dreamed, but never forseen this becoming a reality for us. Throughout the pregnancy we went over our options, keep our home and buy a small acreage as a weekender, rent out our home and buy a 100 acre property as a trial basis to see if farm life was for us, or sell our home and give it a real go. We went all in. We went to inspections, we trawled the internet, we missed out on properties, we had issues with finance. Again, it came down to the wire. We sold our house in the first open house. I packed the majority of our house (and life) into boxes at 8 months pregnant, with a just-turned two year old running a muck! Two weeks after Alexis arrived we were out, off on our new adventure.

So here we are… a husband and wife living in rural NSW with our two and a half year old and 4 month baby girl, our 2 dogs, aswell as our newly aquired 48 pregnant cows, 2 steers, 6 hens, 2 budgies and brand new poddy lamb. Raising two girls will be interesting enough. Let’s see how we go with all of this!