I have decided I need to stop thinking about everything - it is most likely going to be fine - and if it isn't, I will handle it then.
Anyway, I went to do the biopsy yesterday, which was interesting, after I got over my sick childhood fear of needles. The click, click, click of the "biopsy gun" (I was so helpfully informed of what those in the profession call it.) was a bit unnerving, but watching the procedure on the ultrasound monitor was pretty cool, actually. Somehow that little black and white screen is a bit divorced from "you" so it was okay. The tech was so carried away with my interest, he showed me the samples they took in their little jar of fluid! And I am such a geek, I thought it was pretty interesting.
After the procedure, I was so relieved that it was over (I was really scared of it, in spite of hearing from most people that it was nothing), that I felt pretty euphoric. Then I went to my dad's place and hopped on the search engine - felt less confident after that, but realized I have to ration the search time and just wait. So, I did some work on a garden unit I am working on with a math teacher for next year, and revised my scope and sequence for the final quarter, and generally just sat and hung around with my dad, which was really, really nice. (Thanks, Dad!)
I know I am not completely over the worry, even though on a surface level, I feel like I am, because when my husband was 10 minutes late to pick me up in the airport, I was practically in tears. It was ridiculous and irritating, and I am glad that instead of fighting about it, my husband said, "That can't be the real reason you are upset - what's really wrong?" and took me out to eat ice cream. That was pretty nice.
On the farm front, Niele (Ellie, for short) looks a lot more due than she should. I must have miscalculated. She is standing away from the flock and complaining a lot. Although she is usually a love bug, she won't let me near her, which makes it harder to check her hind end. This is her first lambing, so I really want to keep an eye on her. I hope she is a decent mother. Her mother, Dodie, was a great mom, so I am crossing my fingers. The triplets are growing - the little ram lamb is almost caught up in size to the big ewe lamb that was born (remember how one was normal sized, one small, and one teeny?). The littlest ewe is still little, but she is the most active and playful and is growing well - she just started small.
One of my favorite things is the evening feeding - watching the sheep come up over this rise in the pasture. They little lambs popping like popcorn next to their moms. I think they listen for the gates and the doors of the feed room - even though they are hundreds of feet away, behind trees, they are listening and ready to come running home. Last week, the older sheep were playing - one of the wethers, Hulu, started pronging around everyone else and then lightly butting the other adult male sheep and running away. Even Elvis got into the game - even at 250+lbs and with all his dignity as the patriarch of the flock - he started running around in circles and even hopped a few times. Gave me a laugh.