...hypothetically may lose her sheep but I can assure all they aint coming home if you leave them alone and the only tail wagging would be to the local stud. In this case Denzil!
Denzil has indeed arrived, yesterday to be precise. After much sheep wrestling last week to separate the Double D's from the others I felt they stood to be the proverbial lambs to the slaughter when Denzil strode out of the trailer about twice the size of them and letting all his wares hang out about him! He may be a pure bred Polled Dorset but he's got no class. In saying that, neither have my girls who within a minute of seeing him, raced over tails wagging furiously then kneeling down sticking all their wares up in the air. Honestly, I felt ashamed! I mean, what kind of sheep am I raising here? Anyway, needless to say Denzil's going about his business efficiently and effectively 24 hours into a 6 week stay! He's already started eyeing up the young girls in the next field so fingers crossed the fencing is strong enough should he fancy a bit of the other...Hiltz bless her, not a clue what's going on. Walking the field, all alone, bleating away, no sense of hormones about the girl. Ah well, maybe she's a late a developer - a real Sandy...maybe not...
Sheep are happy, pigs are happy now that I'm feeding them correctly and not half starving them as I was doing! Never was any good at weights and measures! They are growing really well and I was feeling pretty confident around them till Sunday's Countryfile where I was informed they bite when stressed! Not that I plan on deliberately stressing my pigs but market day will come and I've got to get them tagged by then! Don't fancy a pig bite so better get them tagged sooner rather than later methinks!
The ducks on the other hand are heading for the table if their not careful! Talk about frustrating! Dirty, smelly things who require a fair amount of upkeep for so far, zilch eggs and a drake who's more Boy George than George Clooney. Their latest game is all about escape (been talking to Hiltz clearly) As they don't 'do' torchlight on late evenings when I'm taxiing DD to various clubs and activities I'll pop over the gate mid afternoon and herd them into their pen area where their house and water and food are. This is roofed and netted with a lockable door mainly to stop Crows etc bringing disease in (DVE-gate from a few months back) but also as an additional deterrent to Mr Fox. However, the bl**dy things have only gone and worked out that using their bills as a razor will cut through the netting thus creating an escape hole. Only some can get out, others can't so I've twice arrived last week at duck land hoping to simply clap my hands and watch them pop into their house, only to find them highly stressed at being separated, running round the pond like lunatics, hungry and no clue who or what I am as torchlight seems to completely blind them! Ducks? I'm thinking chickens are much easier...
As with every place of work health and safety rules ok but when it's your own place it's so easy to be negligent. Last week I hoiked 4 20kg bags of feed out of the car, over the gate then up and into feed containers. I've been moving straw bales and lifting wheelbarrows and carry across acres full water buckets. For those who know my frame, it's not really 'sturdy country lass' more 'city chic' and my back protested in a big way. It's a silly, uncool topic that's dull and we all know it takes a 'special' type of person to be the H&S Officer at work but I tell you, it is important - when it comes to potentially not being able to wear my heels it's a serious matter! Fashion before Falling, Issa before injury and all that. Not that I have many alternatives, as I continually say in my ramblings, it's yet another learning curve on a personal level - know your limitations and don't fool yourself!
Mx
Weather: Met office tells me it's foggy, dry and 12 degrees. I can tell you all it's 10 degrees, clear and raining.
Scouse in the South
Tuesday 22 November 2011
Tuesday 8 November 2011
It's scary down south...
...well it is when it's pitch black, you've bought your torch from Robert Dyas and it's rubbish for 'proper walking' , you can't find your black dog and wonder 'was that a sheep, dog or fox right behind me...?' Oh yes, dark evening animal rounds are here. My first year of this with 'responsibility' and I'm not liking it at all! There's something a bit exposed about walking the land at the dead of night - brings out all sorts of vulnerabilities! Clearly I need to get a light rigged up in the barn. DH has already reinvested for me in a 'proper' torch ie one with a sensible power length and that beams like a mini portable floodlight. When the planes from Gatwick start trying to land in the sheep field then I'll reconsider 'toning down' the beam. Until then, let there be light! Oh and Horsleys now been equipped with an led flashing star light. He's none too impressed by it as a) he hates wearing collars, b) he can now be seen and c) it flashes red, blue and green. Soooo not the vogue for a lab about town!
Apologies this update has been long outstanding. It's just been a bit of mad time really adjusting to the new routines of managing the land. Finally we have acquired some hay. It was when I was in a ponderous mood last Saturday, sitting in the 4x4 surrounded by hay and the smell that I commented on an observation I had made to DH. In those heady days of courtship my husband would pick me up in flash Mercs, XJ6's...now we have hay, sheep nuts and a crystallix smallholder block in the back of the car which smells like a farmyard...indeed, glamour is a state in constant need of redefining... We've also spent some 'quality time' together DH and I at a reclaimed building suppliers yard, stocking up on flags to cover the more squelchy areas of clay around the access gates etc that doesn't aid the performance or tidiness of ones Hunters...
Denzel the ram (see previous posts) is on hold. All set he may have been to come one night standing Dolly and Dors but he doesn't fit into the social calendar just yet. Apparently its 147 days a sheep is preggers for - if Denzel had come on the 5th as planned then our lambs would have been appearing over Grand National weekend. This is so not going to happen as, aside from Cheltenham, going to Aintree is the top most place to be seen at the tail end (ha ha) of the National Hunt season. Mind you when they make it a flat race then I'll boycott it....ANYWAY...moving swiftly on...Denzel will be here 'soon.' The rest of the flock are mightily impressed with their smallholder block which for those who don't know (and I didn't) is a giant ice cream style tub of sticky, molasses and vitamins and minerals etc. The Double D's have nearly OD'd on it and so are sporting an attractive sticky brown patch around their white faces. I hope Denzel isn't fussy...
The pigs are growing - in size and decibel level of squealing! My goodness they are noisy! Their patch is now a glorious area of thick, deep mud aided by the recent wet weather down here and they are insatiable for apples. They've also had cabbage, lettuce, pears and pumpkins. Oh the pumpkins! 4 bites each = pumpkin gone! What great recyclers they are!
In all this torchlight walking I've also learned that the ducks hate it. I've yet to discover the rhyme or reason behind it but try getting them in when it's dark and you have no chance. The silly things all split up, quack frantically and do anything except head indoors. Mightily frustrating as the whole routine now has to be changed to accommodate them and it's a race when my DD comes home from school to change and get them in before it gets dark. One hungry 4 year often fails to see the point in this protesting 'but why Mummy? It's not like we get any eggs from them.' I've thought similar when stood there, in the pitch black, shining the torch, wrestling with it to enable me to clap at them, freezing stuck on a bank surrounded by hawthorns. I mean, you've got to show them who's boss right? Err right...possibly...but at the lure of the warmth of a good Shiraz and my sheepskin white company slippers then the ducks will just have to stay al fresco. Oh the glamour...
Mx
Weather: Foul. Grey, mizzly, drizzly cold. 10 degrees.
Apologies this update has been long outstanding. It's just been a bit of mad time really adjusting to the new routines of managing the land. Finally we have acquired some hay. It was when I was in a ponderous mood last Saturday, sitting in the 4x4 surrounded by hay and the smell that I commented on an observation I had made to DH. In those heady days of courtship my husband would pick me up in flash Mercs, XJ6's...now we have hay, sheep nuts and a crystallix smallholder block in the back of the car which smells like a farmyard...indeed, glamour is a state in constant need of redefining... We've also spent some 'quality time' together DH and I at a reclaimed building suppliers yard, stocking up on flags to cover the more squelchy areas of clay around the access gates etc that doesn't aid the performance or tidiness of ones Hunters...
Denzel the ram (see previous posts) is on hold. All set he may have been to come one night standing Dolly and Dors but he doesn't fit into the social calendar just yet. Apparently its 147 days a sheep is preggers for - if Denzel had come on the 5th as planned then our lambs would have been appearing over Grand National weekend. This is so not going to happen as, aside from Cheltenham, going to Aintree is the top most place to be seen at the tail end (ha ha) of the National Hunt season. Mind you when they make it a flat race then I'll boycott it....ANYWAY...moving swiftly on...Denzel will be here 'soon.' The rest of the flock are mightily impressed with their smallholder block which for those who don't know (and I didn't) is a giant ice cream style tub of sticky, molasses and vitamins and minerals etc. The Double D's have nearly OD'd on it and so are sporting an attractive sticky brown patch around their white faces. I hope Denzel isn't fussy...
The pigs are growing - in size and decibel level of squealing! My goodness they are noisy! Their patch is now a glorious area of thick, deep mud aided by the recent wet weather down here and they are insatiable for apples. They've also had cabbage, lettuce, pears and pumpkins. Oh the pumpkins! 4 bites each = pumpkin gone! What great recyclers they are!
In all this torchlight walking I've also learned that the ducks hate it. I've yet to discover the rhyme or reason behind it but try getting them in when it's dark and you have no chance. The silly things all split up, quack frantically and do anything except head indoors. Mightily frustrating as the whole routine now has to be changed to accommodate them and it's a race when my DD comes home from school to change and get them in before it gets dark. One hungry 4 year often fails to see the point in this protesting 'but why Mummy? It's not like we get any eggs from them.' I've thought similar when stood there, in the pitch black, shining the torch, wrestling with it to enable me to clap at them, freezing stuck on a bank surrounded by hawthorns. I mean, you've got to show them who's boss right? Err right...possibly...but at the lure of the warmth of a good Shiraz and my sheepskin white company slippers then the ducks will just have to stay al fresco. Oh the glamour...
Mx
Weather: Foul. Grey, mizzly, drizzly cold. 10 degrees.
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