Is the new boy settling in?

 

"Farming, what farming? Don't look over there - look here, at me - I'm literally the most important animal around, and how dare you shut me inside the house!"

After a few minutes of uncertainty on arrival, Jeb has made himself at home. Harry and Scout tolerate him (and occasionally deign to play), while Ned mostly ignores the other three. All in all, a great fit! He's also made some other doggie friends, met some lambs (and ran away), and stopped barking at the cattle. There is the minor issue of his extreme slinky length and, therefore, ability to stretch up to steal food from the middle of the table, but nobody is perfect. 

Having fun at the river to cool down.

John risks life and limb playing sticks ... Harry is an incorrigible hand-biter.

Ned remains aloof.

"I most definitely did not steal this courgette (or the potato or raspberries)! Someone else left it here to set me up. They even put my bite marks on it - the cheek!"

I think someone fell on his feet!

The Sheeping Forecast

Our lovely friend Tracy mentioned to me that some of the blog posts are soothing, like the Shipping Forecast – a mystical inventory of unknown places, with unfamiliar activities – which is a kind response to my witterings. So of course, here comes the latest…

 

Quarry, Big, 6 Acres, hay still rising. Sharp fall expected later in the day, with ongoing baling.

8 Acres ploughed, gulls cyclonic, worms and beetles disappearing by nightfall. Swede seeds anticipated later in the week, but some uncertainty.

7 Acres, 5 Acres, 4 Acres, sheep moving west to east, bringing in lambs. Bleating expected. Rough days ahead as weaning approaches.

13 Acres, calves imminent.

Raceground, Common, settled. Conditions not expected to change.

Gratton, Little, Cleeve, low pressure, smaller lambs, no changes over the next few weeks. Occasional drenching. Check for fly-strike.

Rabbity, Goyle, Ruth’s, Cathy’s, woodland continuing to grow, but any changes slow. By the end of the week, elderflowers expected. Occasional deer, displaced later by barking dogs.

Edwin’s, no change. Cattle calm. Cud chewed.

Sonnyside, Cross, fast changing, border collies chasing balls coming in from the north-east, with intermittent panting. Calmer conditions expected later.

Burch Lane, singles cycling with Orlando’s, expecting four-day turn around. Highs of pollen, lows of immune response.

Peek District, movement from Pond South to Pond North as grazing decreases. Grass levels predicted lower, with further movement to Horse Field and House-side as conditions worsen.

Fisher, Doggos, hurricane subsiding. Temperatures cooling, but still with unpredictable flare-ups in activity.

Hey there Mr Blue!

With no small amount of wheedling and bemoaning on my part, Farmer Ian finally gave in and accepted that another dog is inevitable. On Monday I drove to darkest Wales (via a quick visit to meet the lovely Reggie in Newport ... a border collie, of course). Sue and Brian were kind enough to put me up so that I didn't have a nine hour round trip, and their four-footed pack kept us entertained (although that's not strictly true, as Alfie is missing a leg, so is officially three-footed). It was good to catch up, and a bit odd to be staying away after the various lockdowns.

Tuesday morning, onwards to pick up Jeb from a rescue centre. He's a year old, was living in the centre of Cardiff, and other than being a bit stubborn, he's a charm. The pack is adjusting and mostly getting on, and Jeb has not been phased by meeting new people or having new routines. He's not quite sure about cattle yet, and decided that they needed a damned good barking to.

Mr Blue? His original name was Blue, because he's a blue-merle, which isn't actually very original. 

Hay-making again

After lambing we thought things would calm down a bit, but calving carried on apace and we started catching up on the “round to it list” of chores that were put on hold. And suddenly we are in June, shearing done, with hay-making started and summer staring us down.

The wildflowers have been amazing as, once again, the early bloomers bloomed late and the late bloomers bloomed as normal. I blame the odd weather (too hot, too dry, too wet, rinse, repeat – there’s a theme here, given this is a common complaint in this blog – I wonder if there is something going on, say, um, climate change?) The veg garden suffered, and what with the mice, cold and wind, and a particularly persistent blackbird digging things over, there had to be several sowings to recover from failure. However, we’re now eating lettuce, radish and rhubarb, with the rest quickly catching up and promising to glut us out in a few weeks.

Shearing went well, although rain was predicted for the first time in three weeks on the night before - and you can't shear a wet sheep. So we spent the previous day playing sheep chess - bringing the girls down from the hills and trying to find nooks and corners to put them in so they'd stay dry. On the day itself, the lads brought along the big rig and got through the lot in quick time, another bout of rain starting just as the last ewe ran down the ramp. Must have been a bit of a shock going from fleece and sun to beach-ready-bodies and rain, but they seem a lot happier without the extra insulation and weight.

We did manage two nights away in South Devon for a mini-break, having a couple of amazing coast walks. We went to Prawle Point specifically to see cirl buntings, and were greeted by one sitting on the car park fence. There were plenty more, and a rock pipit was an additional treat. The sea was shockingly cold – an intended dip became exactly that. In and out. 

Harry helps bring the flocks down to the home fields.

David and Harry help roll the fleeces. The "lead sheep" looks bored - she's the first one in for her batch, then the last one out.

One ewe was left behind and Farmer Ian had to shear it himself, watched by her lovely lamb. A good job, but if he had to do the whole flock, we'd still be at it for Christmas.

Paddy remained unimpressed by all of the sheep shenanigans. He wanted to know where his cake was.

Elsewhere, the next generation was entering the world. 

Farmer Ian did some rolling of a ploughed field while it was very dry.

Rob escaped from his lockdown flat and came to visit. Thistle chipping is hot, but satisfying, work.

And on to hay-making. Farmer Ian and his new hay stirring device (not the official name).

Harry taking liberties with the garden furniture.

Scout doing the same indoors ... grrr.

Farming at Prawle Point would be quite different!

While we were away, Ann kept an eye on things. Inevitably and happily, there is an Ann’s Mini Diary to share…

June 15^th, Tuesday

As you know, it was hot when you left and was no different when I got back so I sat on the deck while Harry and Scout guarded their homestead from the bull – who frankly couldn’t have given a s**t! Ned sat on me. I decided to take them around the mowing fields – not the best idea, but they had fun. Our evening was great – after we had all had dinner, we sat out on the deck with a glass of rosé and some treats. I enjoyed an amazing concert - lead singer was a chaffinch with mainly bumble bees for the backing group. A dragonfly did a very quick turn on the stage. Owl, hedgehog and cat failed to appear though.

Wednesday

Foggy start – good cover for the rabbit on the lawn. Sonnyside was our walk this morning and it was cool enough for the ball thrower, although all were extremely hot when we got back for breakfast. Scout had first trip to Gratton and Burch Lane. I did manage to count the cows as they thought I was going to open the gate into Far Hill, so they walked off in an orderly fashion while I watched them from my viewpoint. I even got the right number of calves! One roan is a bit tender on a back foot, but it didn’t look swollen. Harry got a trip to Edwin’s and I manged to get the creep into the lamb feeder without getting mugged by the hoards. All good at Peek District, but I didn’t manage to count properly. Ned came to Common and Raceground after coffee. The fog had lifted and most of the stock were going to shade. The digger was gone from Raceground. Ned helped me get more straw from the silage pit. I also walked up to Cleeve Shed to peep over the door and one barn owl was sitting on the tray and dropped down into the box, so I came away very happy. Next door have been haying bales most of the afternoon and have also done the footpath field and the one past the orchard. Yours next, I guess. I have now also seen your cat, out for some sport.

Thursday

All done this morning. I managed to count to 31 twice over at Richard’s – but no guarantees that’s the right number. I was pleased I had decided to wear a coat up the hill as it was very cool (I can’t say cold in mid-June), and it started to rain. I have put the last of the petrol in the bike and I don’t think that the creep will last until Monday.

Ann and Ned take a selfie.

Lambing Tales 2021

February wandered into March, and we were working hard to get as many miscellaneous jobs done before lambing officially started on the 19^th. Fences were fixed, troughs emptied and cleaned, hurdles jet-washed, and the sheds tidied in anticipation. Sitting here on the 13^th of April, that all seems like a lifetime ago … because when lambing got going, it got going with a vengeance. At one point we felt that we may end up lambing the whole flock within a week, and while we knew this couldn’t be true because of colour-coded bums showing later cycling ewes, they just kept popping. Thank goodness Irene arrived that first day, pulled on her wets, and threw herself into the fray.

Evening troughing.

While there are always busy times, normally there is manageable activity with quieter periods. This year, they were queuing up for pen space. No sooner had we built an additional nook, it was occupied and another ewe had started lambing. On one day Farmer Ian went to bed at midnight having filled most of the accommodation. Leah came at 1am and I got up at 4am – and between us, we had 8 doubles, 3 singles and a triple. With no free pens, we were housing them in any available gap. On another night, I came down and hadn’t realised that Farmer Ian had put a family in the back of the trailer, still attached to the quad bike, and got the shock of my life when mum’s head popped up beside me unexpectedly.

Mum is choosing to ignore her four - yes count 'em - four lambs.

The lambs have been good this year, mostly decent sized. There have been the normal interventions needed of course – one leg and a head only, head only, backwards, two coming at once. One day we found a struggling ewe and investigated, only to find a snout, a front leg and a back leg. Two were trying to decamp at the same time, one awkwardly, and the other backwards. That required quite a bit of untangling, but everyone ended up happy. Feeling good, Irene and I looked up to see two other ewes nearby needing help – they were stacking up like planes at Heathrow.

Lovely chunky lambs.

This one is more like a tea-cup sized fashion statement lamb.

The combination of silage, hard work, and amniotic fluid have left our hands a bit raw and chaffed, despite the hand cream. I’ve also managed to spray myself in the eyes with milk while checking udders – important rule of lambing, point the udder away from your face!

Ann has been coming to help let out the sheep, giving me time to clean pens, while the others get the next group ready to leave for the fields and shift the homeless into homes. I often found that the pen I had just cleaned, looking tidy with disinfected floor, new straw and clean water, was immediately colonised and I was back to square one. We’ve also had help from Amie (Ann’s granddaughter) who is an excellent rat spotter, and Harriet (the granddaughter of friends) who has now lambed her first sheep, and cuddled all of the tamies.

Tub o'tamies.

Kate and Limpy the Lamb in his natty jumper, with foam inserts to push his misaligned legs outwards.

We had about 80 or so ewe lambs this year (last year’s lambs that are now having their own). They bring their own challenges, not least of which is being over-friendly. They are noisy, demanding, often look at their newly born lamb with wonder or fear, and are generally a nuisance (hence my usual name of Beastly Ewe Lambs). Their one redeeming feature is that I can pick them up bodily if they need to be moved and are not obliging, rather than straddling the older ewes rodeo-style and fighting my way into a vacant pen.

Beastly Ewe Lambs - get out of your dinner, you fool.

While we are officially lambing, this has not stopped the cows from getting involved – we’ve had six calves so far. Kate arrived for her veterinary experience placement and has been very hands on. Helping with a calf birth and getting covered head-to-foot in gunk is a very important rite of passage. Important second rule of lambing (and calving) … whenever you have just washed your hands, there will be something disgusting to do. Fortunately, most of the cows are just getting on with it and we wake up to another lovely friendly face.

We didn't want to be left out of the action.

Slightly shocked, as I was only born yesterday.

I finally saw the cat, only to find that there are now two.  We are hoping that they are both males, otherwise we’ll be rehoming farmyard kittens. Neither are particularly friendly, but are very vocal around the edges of the house at night if not fed. They are probably avoiding the hedgehog who comes to eat the fallen peanuts from the bird feeder.  Less welcome are the rats that have started to thrive on spilt food, seeds in the grain and other less savoury items. There are some days that I worry I may end up bottle-feeding a large rat instead of a tame lamb if I leave my glasses in the house.

First swallows seen 5^th April. Hooray! And things are beginning to green up.

By Quarry Field gate, courtesy of Ann.

The dogs have had a bit of a rough time of it regarding sleep, as whoever gets up wakes them. However, they each take turns with the various chores and get plenty of exercise, so are not too hard done by.

Harry and Scout are too tired even to get up and say hello.

The three faces of Ned ... Number 1, The Collie Stare.

Number 2, The Regal Pose.

Number 3, The Feeling Shy.

Needless to say, we're all a bit pooped. A brief respite, then onwards to shearing, hay-making and the long list of things on the "round to it" list.

Irene is forced to join us raise a glass - raspberries in Prosecco.

As a postscript, because we have different shifts during lambing, we leave each other explanatory notes – what’s new, who to feed, anything of interest. Here’s a sample, left by Irene and Kate late one evening for Farmer Ian, just proving that every realm of work has its own shorthand and occasionally undecipherable language. They also insist on naming them lambs ... sigh.

Twas the evening of the 9^th April (today!)

Plugged in Jack (pen 1), mum kicking (but he’s a good boy, he knows what to do).

Pens 14 and 17 – full tummies (milk watch).

New biiiiiig double in Pen 34. Navels dipped, one with very full belly and the other was stuck behind the race, so we plugged him in. Will check before leaving.

Milk updates – pen 30 full bellies and not gassy, topped up whiter-faced one in pen 33, and gave all 4 lambs Spectam as one of each pair had wet-mouth.

Black-face in black bucket in small tamies has been Spectam’d , plus 1 tube.

White-face that is not Tiny Tim in the small tamies, Spectam’d. Lethargic.

Tiny Tim’s double (Stuart Little) given milk.

Number 19, medium tamies, Spectam’d.

Put pen 2 ewe back in a head-stock as she was head-butting the lamb.

We have checked all bellies and for wet-mouth and have fed the cat! OK!

The cat

 I still haven't seen it.

What a lot of weather

January and February this year, Mother Nature seems to be having a fit of pique and is throwing everything at us. We’ve had snow, sleet, hail, sun, rain, mizzle, drizzle, howling gales … and that was just Monday. The last few days the ground has been frozen solid, and we’ve been swede-less as Farmer Ian can’t get them out of the ground. Our bird population has moved into the sheds, eating bits of fallen sheep cake, seeds in the hay and silage, and in the case of the blackbirds, the cat food. My poor plants are suffering desiccation, and many a daffodil has poked his head up too early, only to be decapitated by wind. I remain unimpressed.

Now most of the ewes are inside, with just the late doubles and singles out in Big Field with the swedes. The ewe lambs are having a lovely time in Cleave Shed … it’s warm, dry and has a nice stack of hay bales for them to climb over when they inveigle their way through our increasingly pathetic attempts to keep them off. Our main problem, however, has been frozen water pipes everywhere … which just makes everything unnecessarily more bothersome. And during all of this, one of the cows decided to calve.

Yesterday was bum trimming day – Gavin the Shearer came in to do it, as in previous years it has taken us (mainly Farmer Ian) ages. Almost 550 short-butt-and-sides completed, clearing the way for clean and clat-free lambing. However, with this cold wind, I bet most of the girls were less than happy that they were forced into mini-skirts (an Ann-ism). We’re feeding most of them every day now, and it’s just a month until lambing. Blimey, that came round again quickly!

The dogs have been loving all the work, and I had Scout and Ned working quite well together a few days ago – I could see them each watching what the other was doing and adjusting tack. Of course, they have their adrenalin hyped moments when no amount of shouting gets through. Harry is a perfect yard dog … calm and unphased surrounded by curious ewe lambs who want to touch noses with him. Ned wouldn’t put up with such nonsense.

On those days when we are soaked outside or frozen to the bone, we remind ourselves that we are incredibly lucky to have outdoor spaces like these, and that some folks stuck inside would give their right arm to be drenched, covered in dung and smelling “interesting” – or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

We had a bit of rain.

Ned keeps an eye on the sheep, even when not needed.

Scout likes to take more of an overview.

H, tries something totally different.

Our new arrival.

Proof that we did have a few drier days and some sun ...

... with some glorious sunrises.