Tuesday 16 July 2019

Summer time and big tongue days



I started writing this post almost exactly a month ago, the day before Farmer Rob took an unexpected sabbatical from work.  In the interim, things have been pretty busy, with shearing, hay-making and other stock-related activities taking up much of our time. Our mornings now include Flossie, who is staying with us from the other farm, and a racing pigeon who has adopted us (along with the cat). I've told Farmer Ian that feeding said pigeon will only encourage it to stay, but he clearly has a thing for beady unblinking eyes.  



Flossie

Anyway, back to the original update and a load of pictures as an excuse for not typing more. [From early June] The rain teeming down outside rather dents my credibility when waxing lyrical about the beautiful weather we had recently. With clematis and roses ripped from the side of the house and all of us looking like drowned rats after moving sheep and cattle down the hill, those glorious days seem ages ago.  However, there is photographic evidence as Robbie, Pete and I took a day out to go to Braunton Burrows with the collies and Pepper the puglet in tow.
Harry and Scout are excited that we're off on a road-trip.
Ned - once a collie, always a collie.
Of course, rushing around in the heat means another Big Tongue Day...



[Back to the present] After the sun, then the rain and wind, we've now had almost no water at all in July. We're planting more swedes this year (Swede Carol reprise at Christmas!) and rolling with the tractor is dusty work.  At least the dry weather has meant that hay-making was easier.

Farmer Ian before shower.
Farmer Ian during shower!
Harry guards the hay.
Although it's a bit hot for larking about.
Elsewhere, the results of our hedge-laying look good, and in the woods we had an exceptional show of bluebells then foxgloves because of the increased light and air.





In a bit of a quandary about carbon emissions from burning the waste we are not harvesting for winter logs, anything by the woods was dragged in to rot down slowly, while the rest was burnt until charcoal rather than ash.  To cool it, Farmer Ian then had to bring it across the fields with the tractor, douse it, and put on the dung heap to be spread across the fields.

Our log piles continue to grow.
Shearing at both sites came and went, and we were mightily grateful to have help from Liz and Bryan, Ann, David and Oli (who always seems to visit when we have loads of work to give him).

Hard at work.
Perhaps not so hard at work.
We had baby bird week when everything fledged at once - sparrows, blue tits, blackbirds, dunnocks, wrens, swallows, goldcrests, and the great-spotted woodpeckers.  Magpies and crows were gently encouraged not to attend the party (by me banging on the window). Our swallows have had a brood of 4, one of which decided to throw itself out of the nest a few days early and skulk around on the floor.  Concerned for its safety, I caught it and put it back on our drying rack where they like to roost ... he promptly flew off, around the shed, past Farmer Ian's head and into the pile of pallets ... where the cat lives. After much faffing and cursing, we retrieved him and reinstalled him.
Goldcrests feeding on my sorrel.
Dad keeping an eye on Junior.
Finally, young Neddy was a bit of a noodle and ran into a sharp spike on the tractor that was sitting quietly in the yard minding its own business.  The unfortunate outcome was a foot long gash down his side and a lot of stitches (a picture of which I will spare you).  He's pretty bonny about it all, but hates the Cone of Shame.


Hopefully things will calm down a bit soon and we'll get a few more beach days.

No comments:

Post a Comment