Wednesday 31 October 2018

First frost


This week we had our first hard frost, good news for swede lovers and a sign that Ann and I can start raiding 6-Acres, which this year has been laid up for winter root forage. However, not good news for working outside as winter farming is harsh on the hands - gloves, hand cream and zinc and castor oil have come out of various hiding places. We also had our first hail, which happened to coincide with both of us being on the shed roof fixing leaks. Kismet or sod’s bloody law?

It’s been a bit of an annus horribilis all round for farming (and note that second n … quite a different meaning without that). Early on we had persistent heavy rain that left the ground (and us) sodden. Just as it all dried up, the Beast from the East made its appearance before lambing, with a week of desiccating freezing wind that killed many of the plants and froze the water pipes, followed by two bouts of snow (Frozen be damned), leaving us with poor grass and all sorts of other (and udder) issues. June and July we also had problems with no water…lack of rain meant no grass again, and poor hay. It was touch and go at times as to whether or not we’d have to abandon some of the fields, and it doesn’t help having to dish out winter fodder at the height of summer.

August got rainy again, and a warm, wet and humid autumn followed, ideal conditions for flies and pneumonia. We heard reports of October lambs getting flystrike the day after being born. Where are the swallows when you need them?  Oh right, Africa.

How to get rid of grass cuttings from the lawn...

The rams have gone in with the ewes now, so we can do it all again next year…and this spring we’ll be lambing ALL of the sheep chez nous, instead of some being over with Farmer Rob. I am sure there is method in our madness, instead of just madness, but I’ll be devilled if I can work out what.

The pups are now almost fully grown, and occasionally doing what they are told. We have also ended up with a stray cat in the barns - a rather scruffy small grey fluffy thing that is helping keep the vermin down (although the rats seem to be committing suicide on a regular basis in one of our water troughs…I guess even rodents occasionally see the futility of life and have existential crises).

Harry starting to learn the dark arts of sheeping.
So onwards into a winter of hedge-laying and fence-fixing, and the exciting arrival of my log splitter. Plus I bet I am heartily sick of swede by Christmas!

Brand new chainsaw trousers...because Scout disembowelled the previous pair, which is why she looks so guilty.