So, my phone rings. It's Aaron. He asks how things are going. Exasperated, I explain that it is not a great time. He says he fell asleep on the floor in PuLue's apartment. Perfect. I say I'll talk to him later. I have lube on my arms up to my elbows.
Aaron calls back 10 minutes later. Says he's on the way back home. Says he has a surprise. Great, I think. I could use a surprise. Maybe an early birthday present. Or a late Valentine's present. Something to make up for my traumatic sheep birthing experience. Then he tells me what the surprise is.
He's bringing PuLue and two of his kids with him. To spend the night. Perfect.
Did I mention the electricians are still here? And that we still don't have power in the back half of the house?
Fast forward one hour. On my kitchen floor I have PuLue holding a newborn lamb and a 9 year old Karen boy using a blow dryer to warm up the lamb. There's an 11 year old Karen girl sweeping the living room floor with the Swifter (she's fascinated with the battery powered trigger that squirts cleaning fluid onto the floor). We have two Mexican electricians just finishing up, and my 6-month old son Kai soaking it all in in his exersaucer. Aaron and I made eye contact from across the room and just busted out laughing. We have a crazy life, and sometimes it literally makes me want to pull my hair out, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Yes, living on a farm and having sheep a that decides to give birth a full month early can be a bit overwhelming. And having a husband that would literally give the shirt off his back to a Karen refugee or a Mexican immigrant to help him out can present unique challenges very often. But we are happy. And we're making a difference, albeit a small one.
The lamb is a healthly black ewe named "Lulu Sunflower." Lulu at Meredith's request, and Sunflower at Moo's request (Moo is the 11 year old daughter of PuLue). Both mom and baby are doing great.
The electricians finally successfully finished restoring power to the back of the house. We are now invited to Juan's grandson's christening next weekend.
I whipped up a quick dinner of yellow chicken curry and rice. The Karen are fans of most Thai food because they spend a number of years in Thai refugee camps before they come to the US. The verdict was that my curry was good, but not nearly spicy enough. :)
PuLue and his kids rejected the guest bedroom because it was "too nice," and instead opted for an air mattress set up on the living room floor.
The next morning, I made breakfast tacos--yes, even Karen refugees love breakfast tacos!
It was a pretty amazing 24 hours.