It's nice to be needed (mostly)

Time for that essential cup of tea in the morning.  Creeping downstairs, the dogs barely raise their heads to acknowledge my presence – they know the routine, two cups and then it's fair game to kick up a fuss once they can hear proper signs of movement from above.  The first chorus of needy animals – Cody shaking his head to tinkle his tag, with the occasional deep bark demanding attention; Joey's approach is to sit and whine, while Sonny paces up and down the bottom three stairs, yodelling what I am convinced is a medley from the Sound of Music that just needs a tad more practice; Fred remains supine – occasionally stretching with the same sound an old accordion would make if a fat man sat on it.

Bundled into the car, off we go.  Dogs walked (whatever the wretched weather), it's on to the next instalment of demands at the sheds.  Calves bellow for their morning cake, while cows bellow for the cake they don't get to have and because they have picked all of the nice bits out of the silage..."Quite frankly, I'm not going to eat all those stalky bits".  The bull sometimes joins in, just because.  Inside stock dealt with, onwards to the fields.

By this time of year, the sheep are pretty bored with the poor grass and mob the tractor when a bale of the wet and aromatic second cut silage is brought to the rack.  We have to fight our way through the throng to unwrap their breakfast, and I get the feeling that if they had shivs, someone would be knifed by now.  Usually placid and innocent they may be, but sheep can be single-minded and mean when they want.  There is one on top of the bale by the end, eating her way downwards while her flock-mates jostle each other below.

Some of the sheep even get cake – the small flock of ewes that need feeding up a bit because being a sheep is hard work, the rams (who now have nothing to do, not a jot, until September), and the remaining less-than-abattoir-weight lambs -  such a chorus of pathetic baaing and bleating rises up when the quad appears, followed by a scrum of animals that seem to have forgotten temporarily that they are supposed to be scared of people and dogs. 

Then back home to start 'office work' at 9am – and after the afternoon chores (which every three days involves moving a considerable amount of cow poop around), pretty much most of the above yet again.  Winter farming is hard work, but without any real feeling of progress.

Still, Saturday was a beautiful day so we played hooky after the grazers were all sated and took the dogs to Dunkery Beacon for a walk.  Amazing views across Devon in one direction and the Bristol Channel to Wales in the other.  Turns out that as the crow flies, Cardiff is almost up the road.

"Who is the handsomest of them all?"