tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88846104670222241572024-03-09T18:45:51.846-08:00Milkweed & TeaselJennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.comBlogger452125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-59932983835316253172020-12-07T07:35:00.000-08:002020-12-07T07:35:36.891-08:00Good News Update<p>I know I've been quiet on this site recently. With lockdown, not much new has been happening that I can share, until now.</p><p>I've bought a smallholding!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2q0fphqTH8CGwi9pHg1M3UiSFWjHDJEyJj6Y9uwkVbk5KmRHHmbNvRoAGHf973g02w136YpMJelvwGgmHgi0INyt8-kOUjU300GR440wNfCoK6qOV8RDyQKsCG_YVt97ntFu_J18RQ6O_/s2048/rosecott6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2q0fphqTH8CGwi9pHg1M3UiSFWjHDJEyJj6Y9uwkVbk5KmRHHmbNvRoAGHf973g02w136YpMJelvwGgmHgi0INyt8-kOUjU300GR440wNfCoK6qOV8RDyQKsCG_YVt97ntFu_J18RQ6O_/w400-h300/rosecott6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>The sale was agreed months ago but the final paperwork took four months to complete. That's just the timescale in these days of Covid. I didn't want to tell you, in case it all fell though. But today I picked up the keys. It's officially mine, bought and paid for.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAhF_xHmVzNOaz92AA_bf5owZHFXBQE9aYjQICmu7FQvtd2X2Iu3a_ZsXxdMEUxrjjMaLHb4df9QziHXQJr9dhS77yJcMT0wL2VcvSU7xkoXXG2N56IM0-Tg6-HeH6GpVs6K9yYn5awSK/s2048/rose+cott+celebrate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAhF_xHmVzNOaz92AA_bf5owZHFXBQE9aYjQICmu7FQvtd2X2Iu3a_ZsXxdMEUxrjjMaLHb4df9QziHXQJr9dhS77yJcMT0wL2VcvSU7xkoXXG2N56IM0-Tg6-HeH6GpVs6K9yYn5awSK/s320/rose+cott+celebrate.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>My farming friend Donna helped me to find it, and even negotiated a great price for me (something I am completely rubbish at doing). She brought the celebratory prosecco today, which we drank out of jam jars on the hood of my truck. Her daughter sent me the welsh coaster, a present that they had picked out for Mike at a Christmas fair last year. It's fitting that it is now in our home.<div><br /></div><div>The house is small; it's an old Welsh stone cottage on the side of a mountain in Wales. I only have 3 acres of my own and a few stables and workshops, but I hope to find more ground to rent so that I can keep more sheep. I've had to trim my flock to fit for now. But a dozen sheep, four goats, and both horses are catered for. And of course the dogs.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's old and solid, but needs some updating inside so it will be a few months before I can move in while the electrics are updated and some walls moved upstairs, and a bit of decorating updated. I hope I'll be in by April as I'm expecting lambs and baby goats by then. And now I have dry stables to lamb in, and a goat house to kid in. Luxury!</div><div><br /></div><div>After living in tied and rented accommodation for the past 20 years, the mental relief of knowing that no one can show up at your door and tell you that you have to move is priceless. I feel like I can start to put effort and investment into my home and my small farm business. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, I've reached a new chapter in this blog. A hugely sad one without Mike, but I've now bought the farm that we both wanted to own together. It's an exciting step forward.</div><div><br /></div><div>Until then, I'm staying safe from Covid, working on the pheasant shoot, and managing the house renovations over the next few months. Happy holidays to you all.</div>Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-63616854967779930462020-07-16T05:47:00.000-07:002020-07-16T05:47:35.791-07:00When a Chicken is the Good Kind of ToughThe pandemic and consequential change in people's shopping habits have made some things harder to come by. In my case, I need eggs. The hen turkeys only lay 20 or so a season. And now it's only hen turkey - singular: the Christmas Dinner turkey that Mike pardoned a couple of years ago died from old age. She was a monstrous lump of meat on legs but I'm glad she got to see out a few more Christmases. Her passing halved my already measly egg rations.<br />
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A neighbour decided he had far too many chickens and was happy for me to take a couple. Just bog-standard brown layers, perfect little egg production machines. I figured that I could just pop them in the turkey house alongside the two remaining turkeys, and await my fresh eggs.<br />
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By the time I'd finished my morning coffee, both chickens had got out and were exploring their new orchard paddock, totally unconcerned. I was concerned because they hadn't been here long enough to know where home is and where to go to bed. They're laid back so I thought I'd catch them up and rethink the housing situation.<br />
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Before I had a chance to do that, one of the chickens must have explored too close to the dog kennels. When I came back outside I heard very distressed chicken groans and saw brown feathers blowing around all the kennels.<br />
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I traced the poor hen to the spaniel kennel where she was pinned under Biscuit, who thought it was a great game making her new "toy" squeak.<br />
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I rescued the hen from Biscuit's unwanted attentions. The hen had a large tear in the skin over her tail - probably where a dog got hold of her and pulled her through the kennel bars. A few gnaw marks on the neck too. I resigned myself to losing her from the stress of the attack. Her wound was pretty significant too. God knows what internal damage there could be.<br />
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I cleaned and dressed her wound with that universal antidote - Blue Spray. I had no materials left with which I could quickly knock up a chicken house. But I did have a big fox cage. I covered the bottom of the cage with straw and made a little chicken recuperation bed out of a plastic tray, lots more straw, and food and water within reach of the patient.<br />
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It seemed perverse to house the chickens, even temporarily, in a cage meant to trap a fox. In there they seemed more like bait than pets. In this case, the cage was closed and kept them safe from fox (and spaniel) harm.<br />
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The injured chicken sat in her bed, feathers rumped up and eyes half-closed for the rest of the day. By morning, she was moving about and had laid an egg! Not only did she shake off the stress, she popped out a perfectly fine egg. I thought "this is one tough broad", so I gave her a suitable name: Chook Norris.<br />
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I've marginally upgraded their living accommodation from the fox cage to the small silver trailer (the trailer that is also the occasional sheep hospital, pig transport, and now Chicken Shed). They have more space, and better protection from the elements. It's not a perfect set-up. I have to use a plastic garden rake to roll the freshly laid eggs from their nest to the trailer door every morning.<br />
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Shortly after their relocation to the trailer, the eggs went missing. Every day. I watched until I saw a crow go in through the ventilation gap of the trailer and help itself to MY eggs! Believing that I was smarter than a crow, I started getting up earlier to beat the crow to the eggs. Within two days the crow adapted to showing up before me again. I think it recognised the sound of my back door opening.<br />
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It seems I'm not smarter than a crow.<br />
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However, I have opposable thumbs and access to a crow trap. The first morning I set it, I caught two pairs, and now my eggs are waiting for me every morning, even when I'm late with my plastic rake to go and collect them.<br />
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Crows can be a problem when it comes to sheep too. They will eat the eyes and tongue out of lambs, or sheep that have got cast on their backs and can't get up. My Dorset tup Aled has a touch of fly strike on his head. Flies find a damp patch and lay their eggs, and the maggots eat into the sheep's skin. It's really gross. I treated Aled with a proprietary fly killer, but he was still feeling a bit sorry for himself.<br />
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I went to check on him later in the afternoon, just to see how he was faring after treatment. As I drove up to the paddock, I saw Aled lying flat on his side. This is not a good sign. Sheep don't normally lay out like that. A crow was hopping nearby Aled. A doubly bad sign. Even crows recognise the usual pose of a sheep on its side as a dead sheep.<br />
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I hopped the fence, my heart sinking as I thought that I would have to call the knackerman to come get him and it's another bill for the farm, etc. At which point, my ram raised up his head and looked at me.<br />
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Phew. What a relief.<br />
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It was the outcome I was hoping for, though not the one the crow wanted. It took flight and curled away to go check other fields for an easy meal. I felt a bit smug at winning this battle, but quickly remembered how many others I've lost to predators and was instantly humbled.<br />
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<br />Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-84760844828960118722020-05-10T07:14:00.000-07:002020-05-10T07:14:34.835-07:00Some Good ThingsI've caught up with a few big jobs that were hanging over my head. My sheep got sheared -<br />
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My shearer from last year, Keiran, came and did a great job. He brought a second shearer this time. It still took four hours to get the job done. And they're not slow as you can see by their t-shirts (called "singlets") which read: Felinfach Speed Shear Finalist 2018 </div>
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Felinfach is a town in Wales. I looked it up. The name is Welsh for "small mill". I looked that up too. I'm guessing it's a town with a lot of sheepy history. </div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Also, I love the sales pitch by the local shearing stores selling singlets: "Suitable for farmers, farriers, stonemasons, as well as shearers." They are not suitable for women however as the long, deep armholes let everything all hang out.</span></div>
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I did the fleece rolling and packing - suitably covered up in just a regular t-shirt.</div>
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I photographed this one as I managed to throw it correctly (unlike the previous few). </div>
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It's like casting a net and you want it to spread out. You skirt it - pull off the dirty, poo-y edges and discard. Then roll it from the back end, which is easy identify as it's the poopiest end. Roll tightly while tucking in the sides. Finish by pulling a bit of neck fleece out, twist and tuck to hold it together. It looks like a sleeping bag when you get it right.</div>
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I fill up the wool sheets (bags) as I go. I filled three this season and will take them to the Irish wool buyers when I get a chance. If I'm lucky, selling the wool will cover half of what it cost to cut it off the sheep.</div>
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While I roll fleece, curse, and sweat profusely, Gertie entertains the troops waiting their turn for a haircut -</div>
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She has always liked sheep. She doesn't chase them but, as it was only me gathering the flock, I knew I could send Gertie behind a straggler to hurry it up. The sheep don't know she's only following commands for hunting pheasant. I love her company, Gertie is always so happy to be a part of anything going on. </div>
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I also picked up the pigs from the abattoir. They killed out beautifully, with an excellent meat to fat ratio -</div>
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Half a pig gave me all these chops and 45 sausages, plus the prime cuts. I made bacon with the belly pork -</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">bone in</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">bone out</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Curing for seven days.</span></div>
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I can share the bacon and chops with neighbours, especially my favourite retired neighbours Bill and Margaret. I mow their lawn for them and she insists on paying me - far too much too! - so I can sneak some of it back to her in the form of Sunday roasting joints and chops.</div>
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The weather has been sunny and warm, so I've been having some long, leisurely dog walks. As leisurely as walking a pack of seven dogs can be anyway. With the shutdown, the deerstalkers haven't been in the woods and there are already noticeably more deer moving around. </div>
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I took a video (with sound) as we came up on a female muntjac deer "barking" -</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwlAxY1RAUsCDDKxLOKmKzPnJEJa_fee7jgfTu0H3BlAicmM3kzSbqQB2IX4unjOxIoKA-ofT8RtIOYSaDYgw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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It's a strange sound if you haven't heard it before. </div>
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I took this photo of a roe deer standing in the track. I called the dogs back so they wouldn't chase her. I had to shout at the deer to move it along. I think they are enjoying their break from the stalkers too.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY454FIUpI_VSpXXprxA6zeSYQIdSsjhN7JXeyNSvcXzjWKuccJEKS1Ho8cyzKUmyKkz_kzxOJMAqa_NJyKL2eC_seIZIT_kQp0ur_PwRlSqm8t1GgReCjbQTzUjKF4v2vrByPaRzqFPhf/s1600/deerchi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY454FIUpI_VSpXXprxA6zeSYQIdSsjhN7JXeyNSvcXzjWKuccJEKS1Ho8cyzKUmyKkz_kzxOJMAqa_NJyKL2eC_seIZIT_kQp0ur_PwRlSqm8t1GgReCjbQTzUjKF4v2vrByPaRzqFPhf/s400/deerchi.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Can you see the deer?</span></div>
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The farrier came and trimmed the horses' feet, and declared Sam's chronic thrush gone! The vets came to give the horses their annual vaccinations. I also get the vet to check their teeth and do any necessary dentistry. It was a female vet who came this time. She's cooed and scratched Sam on his withers while she listened to his heart and gave him his injection. </div>
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Normally Sam is ill-mannered and has little patience for that kind of interference. I have to drug him every time the farrier trims his feet. But Sam never put a foot out of place. The vet put a dental mouth gag on Sam. It looks like this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeyxdfxD4_lcEEXYJvFTj4vqd6eB5n2n9ZEhDg9Qt2xaCKQbgatMbI99Xd0PquvdFphjB88H-EbEPYejvsLY2Ve4KkmOh0DxprVQAVBoFo5muM7pZlq0xJKZVgBhpmjB3vLQFnKsMhBazv/s1600/horsedentist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeyxdfxD4_lcEEXYJvFTj4vqd6eB5n2n9ZEhDg9Qt2xaCKQbgatMbI99Xd0PquvdFphjB88H-EbEPYejvsLY2Ve4KkmOh0DxprVQAVBoFo5muM7pZlq0xJKZVgBhpmjB3vLQFnKsMhBazv/s320/horsedentist.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">From equisearch.com</span></div>
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Medieval looking, no? It locks a horse's mouth open so the vet can inspect inside without losing a finger.</div>
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Sam stood quietly and let her do it. Just crank it open. No meds. No fights. I was stunned.</div>
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I think Sam likes the ladies best. </div>
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The vet then told me that they both look "exceptional" and in great condition for their age. I felt like a proud mother.</div>
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Don't think too kindly of them just yet. I shut them into the small side of the field to limit their grazing. Within 24 hours they destroyed the gate to get to more grass. Not fixable. A total replacement gate is needed. </div>
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This week I will change the tractor's log splitter for the mower, and start topping some grass. If the good weather holds.</div>
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It's cold today, but only "extra sweater and hot water bottle" cold. Last week we had a dank, cold day and I lit the fire in my study for the first time since I moved in. I've never had a fire in my study before. It feels very Sherlock Holmes-y. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGAc1eXmRpmamT3ikvD7SkqWXYzqeh6d-aoOEpRPlBxnzNqwG2Xm1pDfe6la0m16NgdRMFsYcBy8V6sIdzYMH8hXhT6oHO9VU3GmqlmVuq6gwycDMfYJTUKo1BrHPLoVdmWkCHknBC7c8/s1600/fire+study.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGAc1eXmRpmamT3ikvD7SkqWXYzqeh6d-aoOEpRPlBxnzNqwG2Xm1pDfe6la0m16NgdRMFsYcBy8V6sIdzYMH8hXhT6oHO9VU3GmqlmVuq6gwycDMfYJTUKo1BrHPLoVdmWkCHknBC7c8/s400/fire+study.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Molly carries her therapy pillow with her most of the day.</span></div>
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I miss my Rayburn but the open fireplace is a pretty good second. The dogs like it too. </div>
Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-8199606036757758562020-05-01T07:16:00.000-07:002020-05-01T07:19:31.409-07:00It Ain't Pretty - Well, Some of it is OKSpring is here. The cuckoos are calling, the blossoms are already dropping from the cherry trees. The cows are out on grass with their young calves. Wild edible greens like nettles and wild garlic are everywhere. I've made wild garlic pesto and used it in some coleslaw this week. I'm not quite hungry enough to eat the nettles yet.<br />
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I have re-glazed the greenhouse. Only one pane broke in transit and I was able to borrow a replacement from a friend. Most greenhouses have standard size panes, so that's useful.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_abeWv_Fim66jm6UPhnSI1kf1UE6Y65m-GAoYXKF3vkgPNzu4qIhZy5eiKpzGRboa22wKas_4VdJLskLUjJk9Yc7K2iHKbxbEcZDh3NzhMG3b6I7JUZ5dTTq0O1zcINdriXJeQ2qBAExG/s1600/greenhouse+seeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_abeWv_Fim66jm6UPhnSI1kf1UE6Y65m-GAoYXKF3vkgPNzu4qIhZy5eiKpzGRboa22wKas_4VdJLskLUjJk9Yc7K2iHKbxbEcZDh3NzhMG3b6I7JUZ5dTTq0O1zcINdriXJeQ2qBAExG/s400/greenhouse+seeds.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I've started tomatoes, cucumbers, and sweet peppers for the greenhouse. Homegrown tomatoes alone are worth the effort.<br />
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Of course, the turkeys had to be evicted so I could return the greenhouse to its vegetative use. I finally had to build them a turkey enclosure. The problem was I only had what was available in the garden - cement blocks, sheets of tin, wooden palates - leftover from kennel construction. Also, I have limited tools now that I can't borrow the shoot's tools. I located a jarful of screws, some zip ties, a drill with one screw head, and a chainsaw.<br />
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Here is the result-<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC92XpXAS2JfpHB5A-jORH-JlQcoeE9jvDR28jHwScpNQBDmHW3oBpWv56cXvKbS4qMu-Jfz7oCh0Sp3ObOYR1rA38PqfFByQIt2D5EbT1MAsz4Blis2mzeNYZKGjsMCpIGnNHPZL5hAPg/s1600/turkeyhouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC92XpXAS2JfpHB5A-jORH-JlQcoeE9jvDR28jHwScpNQBDmHW3oBpWv56cXvKbS4qMu-Jfz7oCh0Sp3ObOYR1rA38PqfFByQIt2D5EbT1MAsz4Blis2mzeNYZKGjsMCpIGnNHPZL5hAPg/s400/turkeyhouse.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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It is functional but god awful to look at. The only plus is that with lockdown, I won't get people dropping by and seeing my turkey shanty. I built it under a tree and behind the high hedge so it's not visible from the road. However, the turkeys are safe at night, so that's the important thing.<br />
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During the day, they are free to roam, which means I have to hunt the hedgerow to see where the hen is laying her eggs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1e2nUoGCM0WN209_Q7yLQ9cxangZ1R794S9skoho41PtSjs2CtkjmZWzw4KfAqvScHPK7qGAlGEZz4_d1FpsB2H1GWai68XhDgiZkfIGpfOrS1dviU3LHauy4NAQhu1iSxXZ0RXO6dAFB/s1600/turkeyhedge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1e2nUoGCM0WN209_Q7yLQ9cxangZ1R794S9skoho41PtSjs2CtkjmZWzw4KfAqvScHPK7qGAlGEZz4_d1FpsB2H1GWai68XhDgiZkfIGpfOrS1dviU3LHauy4NAQhu1iSxXZ0RXO6dAFB/s400/turkeyhedge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Thankfully white turkeys are not masters at camouflage<br />
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I don't mind a bit of slapdash repair, some dirt, or even things to be rough around the edges. But I do actually have a strong sense of the aesthetic. I love when something is both functional and nice to look at.<br />
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I often feel self-conscious about all the Macgyver-ing I've been doing for the past few years. Especially having just read a book called <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Adventures-Yarn-Farming-Seasons-England/dp/1590308239">Adventures in Yarn Farming</a>. The author Barbara Parry has about the same number of livestock to manage as I do, but her farm is immaculate. IMMACULATE. She dries off her baby lambs with towels for god's sake. My first though was who does all that washing? It's a good book and I've enjoyed reading it but boy do I feel like underachiever, as far as making things look nice.<br />
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Her book put an aesthetic bee in my bonnet and did a few projects around the house to pretty it up, but still with a hint of Macgyver -ishness. I can't seem to shake that off. I sewed a cushion cover for my bench in the hall -<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYCp7r35n9y4joFNpiLvfBT65-S7Y1ed8ZzpKww1t-ujLaGYI4j5-NceKnoCwALq2hhyy4PF-vaIINvBm6SC1ou31rdKimRPGa0IwjpjIuQEQnDrb2wQW8hIQ8vdABUMG1mPVBFcsQONm/s1600/bench+cushion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYCp7r35n9y4joFNpiLvfBT65-S7Y1ed8ZzpKww1t-ujLaGYI4j5-NceKnoCwALq2hhyy4PF-vaIINvBm6SC1ou31rdKimRPGa0IwjpjIuQEQnDrb2wQW8hIQ8vdABUMG1mPVBFcsQONm/s400/bench+cushion.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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I robbed the cushion from my sun chairs, chairs so well used that they fell apart so the cushions were going spare. They were almost the perfect length. I used some coarse French linen I acquired from somewhere and have been carrying around for years.<br />
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I also had an old flour sack that was a pretty good fit to turn into a curtain for under the Belfast sink in the laundry room-<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsu8hne7daEcWn0kG5PjCdBrFs8BCAESAZtHuSxMg_U5eAQhStNa8g3JJ8FTLFFKDizPBRxWZJQP09VJB_gUm9OgmZQQXZUXMgZCgzEauW5mDiSESJSxOqS9tZQwO2LP2OS9j7GnxygHg/s1600/floursack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsu8hne7daEcWn0kG5PjCdBrFs8BCAESAZtHuSxMg_U5eAQhStNa8g3JJ8FTLFFKDizPBRxWZJQP09VJB_gUm9OgmZQQXZUXMgZCgzEauW5mDiSESJSxOqS9tZQwO2LP2OS9j7GnxygHg/s400/floursack.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I even turned one of my sister's rehomed jumper (now too small from many shrinkings in the wash) into a cosy for my French press -<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJi5qmFctCdbqJeYHbkB1cqG9LazcvpxIP81mP8TRZur6N_KSTQpsjGTXmdgb1zkOddRcoQ0MHh1k_NCUMzqYtg1sC-DKmgTwfBRkVNhFDNzwa1yKB-xT6PNaKn4LKazfZKnzmjLSUJJNi/s1600/coffeecover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJi5qmFctCdbqJeYHbkB1cqG9LazcvpxIP81mP8TRZur6N_KSTQpsjGTXmdgb1zkOddRcoQ0MHh1k_NCUMzqYtg1sC-DKmgTwfBRkVNhFDNzwa1yKB-xT6PNaKn4LKazfZKnzmjLSUJJNi/s400/coffeecover.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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I hand sewed blanket stitch edges and used an old kilt pin from my sewing box to put it together.<br />
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But my artsy-fartsy fun was short-lived and, when the rain let up, I went back outside and put a raised vegetable bed together.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMnAZ74ZZZ1FtWNwvR8mK2_qonNYTA0cHJmfODEM2dIX1EZzzFHbdfIrKxM6W7-7rkTDxvjSupc9I3r_EK4ndYCEWuEBci74GDQW-X-y2uDBSLkglb1GWqgqmDu3H9xf-OpBEsAlwG7yN/s1600/greenhouse2020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMnAZ74ZZZ1FtWNwvR8mK2_qonNYTA0cHJmfODEM2dIX1EZzzFHbdfIrKxM6W7-7rkTDxvjSupc9I3r_EK4ndYCEWuEBci74GDQW-X-y2uDBSLkglb1GWqgqmDu3H9xf-OpBEsAlwG7yN/s400/greenhouse2020.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I used leftover cement blocks from the kennels to build a square bed. I used a ripped tarp to line the bed, so the water can seep through but the compost is held in place. I ordered some compost to fill the bed, which was the biggest expense. I've planted seeds I had left over from last year, and some that neighbours gave me ( I grow the seeds; they take half and I keep half - good deal!)<br />
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There are salad, collards, spring onions, green beans and squash in the raised bed. Just things I like to eat and aren't too complicated to grow, even if this summer is cool or wet.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0G1txMQPTO-5vN6b5jknuOehpTCRsrRBU2o04Cek0C1jDSCO4tzUFHrDZ5_R5ola9Gu4b3gzGPt-5zzm8PHvpVxmr4FRHgtwyO1536iP8JFvx03OJjWxrzpn62k9gY4lOkIZEn4lMOrkC/s1600/vegbed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0G1txMQPTO-5vN6b5jknuOehpTCRsrRBU2o04Cek0C1jDSCO4tzUFHrDZ5_R5ola9Gu4b3gzGPt-5zzm8PHvpVxmr4FRHgtwyO1536iP8JFvx03OJjWxrzpn62k9gY4lOkIZEn4lMOrkC/s320/vegbed.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Leftover roof corners are great for labeling rows of plants</span></div>
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It was too late in the season to try and prepare the soil to grow vegetables straight in the ground. This is my compromise to get me though this season. Again, no visitors will be dropping by to see my Frankengarden.<br />
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I even used a broken plastic tub, tires, and an old dog bed, all filled with compost, to grow potatoes and sweet peas. I planted potatoes before I knew that the farmer was going to put the eight acre field behind my house down to potatoes. No matter what, there will be potatoes.<br />
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This morning I took the pigs ice camp. Our four pigs were overdue but it took me weeks to get a slot as the abattoirs are busy and understaffed. I'm splitting my pig with my weaver friend Angela. The pigs are due back - mostly freezer-ready - next week. I'll cure the belly for bacon and bone out some joints.<br />
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The sheep finally got moved to their fresh grass last week and they're looking well for it.<br />
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The goats were no help when I tried to load the sheep, so I had to scrounge around in my truck for dog leashes and sheep head collars in order to tie them each to the fence and out of my way.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfRNuGmw0xVOOnSk9FbYdTBalJvhMeYcO2_8SQgOl24P1cfoPGhBeZUKOVf8h-hrPrMyBxvmThdJQ-nJlHVpk_BZMasBsC_nJKD2nuHADftjxen9ZzsqhmceUOKq8UtbVEDfSUkpz8Kttu/s1600/goats+tied.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfRNuGmw0xVOOnSk9FbYdTBalJvhMeYcO2_8SQgOl24P1cfoPGhBeZUKOVf8h-hrPrMyBxvmThdJQ-nJlHVpk_BZMasBsC_nJKD2nuHADftjxen9ZzsqhmceUOKq8UtbVEDfSUkpz8Kttu/s400/goats+tied.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Unlike sheep, they're curious and always up for a road trip.<br />
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The sheep were due to get sheared today after pig duties, but it started to rain. Without my sheep barn, I can't put them under cover to keep their fleece dry, which is necessary before they can be sheared. I've been barnless before, it can be managed. My shearer Keiran has the patience of a saint, and we're going to try again tomorrow. Fingers crossed for sunshine and dry sheep.<br />
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Once the fleeces are off I can have a good look at their condition. I will probably select a half dozen or so of my plumpest ewes to put to my new Dorset ram. A trial run so to speak, and a small enough number that I can put them in my orchard to lamb, where I can keep a close eye on them or knock up a shelter (hello pallets and zip ties!) if the autumn weather turns foul.<br />
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It may not be a pretty shelter but a cute lamb face makes up for a lot.Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-12790142767503351872020-04-14T05:53:00.000-07:002020-04-14T05:53:14.239-07:00Adapt and OvercomeLuckily I was able to finish moving house days before we were shut down with the Covid-19 virus. The kennels were finished enough to be habitable before my builders had to self-isolate.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The concrete pad had to fit kennels and a storage shed - it was tight!</span></div>
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This is what I gave the builders-<br />
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And they still manage to build it all to fit based on that scribble -<br />
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The builders are my neighbours who I supply with goat meat from time to time. They built the kennels in record time and wouldn't charge me for their labour! They will never be short of goat meat, that's for sure.<br />
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We swapped the shed and kennels around to give the dogs a bit more privacy and an extra windbreak.The dogs like to sunbathe now spring is here. The cleaning system needs to be refined - gravel and loose straw are not a good combo. We'll work on that.<br />
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While the inside of the new cottage was still under construction, I set about moving some farm equipment and my greenhouse. I took all the glass out of it and moved all the panes in multiple trips, as many as I could lift by myself in one armful.<br />
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Last time, Mike and Ian moved the frame by carrying it down the road on their shoulders. I had to get more creative - and a little scared - to move it by myself this time-<br />
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I balanced it on the loader's tines and drove it down the road, saying "Ohshitohshitohshit" to myself pretty much the whole way. I picked a time when the roads would be mostly clear, and prayed I wouldn't bump into anyone. I figured that people do dumber things with less planning than this. It worked out fine.<br />
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Buoyed by my greenhouse moving success, I went back and loaded the railroad sleepers I use for its base.<br />
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I wasn't so lucky with the old chicken house. Its structure was too weakened from age and the winter's floods to move. Now I had homeless turkeys. But I adapted -<br />
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I covered the greenhouse frame with a few sheep hurdles zip tied together, and covered it with a tarp to make it rain resistant. A temporary turkey refuge.<br />
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Yeah, they're not impressed either.<br />
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After a few days in the turkey prison (helps them locate where to go to bed at night) they were free to wander the gardens. They look much happier in the sunshine, in the corner of my garden.<br />
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And because moving house and a pandemic weren't enough, some of the sheep tried to get blood worm again. I caught it quicker, and wormed the worst cases. One ewe was so poorly I needed to move her close to me so I could tend her regularly, but I no longer have a sheep barn. I adapted-<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I left my washing line in the picture because my life is not Instagram-worthy, but it's honest.</span></div>
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I have a little orchard so I penned her in there with sheep netting (no electricity but she was too poorly to wander much). I'm using my little trailer as a mobile shed, stuffed with straw to keep her warm as she's lost so much weight. Here I can feed her and treat her with meds and vitamins. It was touch and go for 4 or 5 days. I hated to get out of bed every morning as my first job was to walk outside and see if she made it though the night. Not a nice way to start your day.</div>
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She's still here, recovering nicely. In fact, she baaas at me when the dogs bark for their breakfast, demanding hers at the same time. The bit of fresh grass in the orchard has been a tonic for her too. </div>
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The rest of the flock is desperate to move to their new grazing but there's timber extraction around and through the new field. I checked on progress this morning and it looks like we could move in the next 48 hours.</div>
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The horses didn't want to be left out. They have been busy pushing down fencing, probably while scratching their butts on the wood rails. The managed to take out a whole section, leading onto the main road of course-</div>
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They did this after the quarantine was in effect so I couldn't go to the farm store and get any fencing supplies. But, I adapted -</div>
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Thank goodness for sheep hurdles and zip ties. I hate that it looks so messy, but keeping stock in is the main priority at the moment. </div>
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And because moving house, a pandemic, sick sheep and escaping horses aren't enough, Pip decided it was time for her to cross the rainbow bridge. She enjoyed her last few days out in the sun, and many special breakfasts before we took our final trip to the vets.</div>
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Because of the health restrictions, I wasn't able to hold her paw while she went to sleep, but her favourite vet and nurse were there with her the whole journey. Dr Ralph said she was wagging her tail right up to the end.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Pip in her retrieving days. She was a good dog in every way.</span></div>
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And because moving house, a pandemic, sick sheep, escaping horses, and losing a dog aren't enough, I also quit my job at the pub. Which was prescient as within a week all the wait staff were laid off anyway due to the quarantine. </div>
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My neighbour who farms milking goats is very short staffed, with plowing and seeding jobs to do as well as milking. He and his staff helped me move the bulk of my house, all the furniture and heavy things I couldn't do on my own. They were busy themselves and still offered to come over to help me. It was a huge kindness. Now I get to return the favour, and be gainfully employed at the same time: I am a trainee goat milker!</div>
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I shadow staff during the evening milking to learn the routine. The stockmanship is easy enough, it's the milking parlour and complex vacuums, bulk tanks, and hoses that worry me. Press the wrong button and I've contaminated all the milk and it has to be thrown away, and the farm loses money. </div>
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I'm told it's pretty hard to do anything that catastrophic. Again, people do dumber things with less planning and get by. I'm sure I can be taught.<br />
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We're only milking about 83 at the moment, but the next lot of goats are starting to kid, so milking will increase. On my last shift, we spotted an early kidder who managed to pop out FIVE babies -<br />
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I've secretly named her Pez.<br />
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I bumped into Kate, one of the farm staff, just as she was about start her long evening sitting in a tractor plowing the fields. Kate made herself a coffee but couldn't find a spoon. So, she reached in her jeans pocket, pulled out a knife, wiped in on her jeans, and used it to stir her coffee. Yes it was the knife she uses to trim animal feet. Yes we all do it. Adapt and overcome, even if it's a bit gross.<br />
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Of all that's happened in my life over the last eight months, the stay at home quarantine order has been the easiest problem to manage. I'm part of a good community, we swap and share, There's enough in my larder that I've not been to a grocery store and anything can be toilet paper if you're creative enough. But I've taken the isolation very seriously because I cannot afford to get sick without a Mike in my life.<br />
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The estate planted a tree in Mike's honour, replacing an oak that blew down in last year's storms. It's a sweet chestnut tree, grown from seed from a tree on the estate that, every year, produces the biggest fattest most delicious chestnuts. Grown this way from seed, the chestnut will take 20 years to produce nuts. I hope I'm still around to gather them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz7hzWHxX7d4CTlK7FEQuLEmxf4oQ3FHM58oQZDL9g3SA5WTmG_13kdXLchc6oLl5O_P-7oRxGjbjkVMcGQ45dpBlqOWo4d5hJGuF7vXRG7dqYUAhxQ6jv21X_foetrfgIDYh44yjEswxQ/s1600/mike+molly+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz7hzWHxX7d4CTlK7FEQuLEmxf4oQ3FHM58oQZDL9g3SA5WTmG_13kdXLchc6oLl5O_P-7oRxGjbjkVMcGQ45dpBlqOWo4d5hJGuF7vXRG7dqYUAhxQ6jv21X_foetrfgIDYh44yjEswxQ/s400/mike+molly+tree.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Molly sits on the stump with Mike's tree in the background. We like to go and visit it together sometimes.</span></div>
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The woodmen will carve a bench from the stump of the fallen tree eventually, and the view looks out across a pheasant drive, though fields and into the woods. The underkeepers dug the hole for the tree. Sitting on the stump afterwards they said "Great! This will be a perfect rifle rest for shooting foxes!"<br />
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Mike would be so proud.<br />
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Stay safe and well. Adapt and overcome.Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-14087250698039575232020-02-11T10:30:00.001-08:002020-02-18T00:42:03.931-08:00Weathering StormsShooting season is over. It was a bittersweet ending. I put on Mike's slippers one last time to greet the guns in the morning and outline the day's shoot. The slippers were a practical joke given to Mike by the guns. They all have matching slippers except Mike who just took off his boots at the door and wore his socks to greet them. Mike accepted the slippers with good humour though he confided in me later that they cost more than his day's wages. He never took them home and always left them tucked away under a chest for shoot days.<br />
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The slippers were huge on me and I slopped about in them, curling my toes inside them to hold them on. I couldn't fill them literally or figuratively. But, like wearing his yellow shoot socks, I wore his slippers and hoped that, like talismans, they would help me do his job.<br />
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I have left the slippers in the same spot for the new head keeper.<br />
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I was relieved when the formal days were finished. I think I held it together to see the season through, but they were some of the hardest days for me emotionally. I had to muster up all my reserves to face each one. Grieving is a personal tragedy; clients do not want to see it or deal with it. Nor should they. But it's hard to put grief on hold. Like I said, I think I managed OK but only just.<br />
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I have since heard that three local head keepers have been made redundant at the end of their seasons. They will now have their own grief to attend to, and my heart goes out to them.<br />
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Gamekeeping is a precarious life built on the capriciousness of sporting guns and estates. A perfectly run season can still end in shoot closures and job losses for any number of valid reasons. So the gamekeeper has to find new work, move his home, family (including kids in school) and learn new ground and what his new bosses want, and care for pheasants, all within a few months' time frame, before he's expected to deliver good shooting days. All this, with the Sword of Damocles in the form of shoot closure, always hanging over his head.<br />
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There is the <a href="https://thegamekeeperswelfaretrust.com/">Gamekeepers Welfare Trust</a> set up to help guide keepers though the rough parts of the job, but suicides are still too common. Wet winters like the one we've just had (and are still having) increase the pressure.<br />
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Man, I'm a Debbie Downer, aren't I? Here's some nice farm photos to cheer you up-<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Seven dogs loaded up and ready for a woodland walk - on a rare sunny day! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The Welsh black x Duroc piggies enjoying a trough full of goats milk - a real treat!</span></div>
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Normally Mike and I would look forward to the end of the shoot season and our two week holiday, which only ever lasted a few days as Mike got bored quickly. I have embraced the whole fortnight and thrown myself into therapeutic (slightly compulsive) jigsaw puzzling and reading. I love reading about Arctic and Antarctic exploration, though the closest I get to adventure is tasting the whiskey allegedly drunk by the 1907 British Antarctic Expedition.<br />
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Farm chores still demand attention. The wet winter means hay is at a premium. Again. I made my own hay this year but with Mike's illness I didn't find time to move it indoors and half of the hay has spoiled from the rain. My neighbours kindly sold and delivered some large bales on their tractor and that's helped me through the worst of the hungry months. Now I'm back to picking through and salvaging the best small bales to feed to the sheep and goats.<br />
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The goats are ravenous and eat most of the hay. I made a decision to cull the oldest nanny, and the two goatlings from last year: the boy and the girl with the withered leg. The old nanny and the boy went to market together and made a good price (which will be spent on animal feed!). The female with the withered leg couldn't go to market. For welfare reasons, the rule is that any animal going to market must be able to put all four feet on the ground. Not easy when you only have three and a half legs to start with!<br />
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Our deer stalker kindly offered to shoot her in the field for me. If I tried to do it, she would have come too close looking for food and brought the rest of the herd with her. And, I would have kept putting off the job if it was left to me.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ready to hang in the chiller for a few days</span></div>
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I butchered her today. There is enough to share with my Jamaican neighbour, and I minced a lot of the meat to make burgers this time. There's also a big pot of bones stewing on the Rayburn for the dogs in the morning. It makes their kibble a bit more interesting. Plus, you know, waste not want not and all that.<br />
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I also sent Horned Ram and the last entire ram lamb to market. Horned ram recovered from an infected scrotum but the vets couldn't guarantee that he would be fertile again, so I couldn't sell him on in good faith as a breeding ram. Thankfully I have his genetics in my flock, but it was sad to let such a handsome, quiet lad go. I only have two rams now: Aled the new Dorset ram I bought and Bertram the Friesian ram.<br />
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The sheep trade is so good and the grazing is so tight that I've decided to sell nearly half my flock, including all the hybrid Bertram lambs. I will keep 25 or so of my core breeders (and yes Grumpy's lamb is definitely staying!) and build up the numbers again when I feel able. Turning this commodity into money when the market is high is sensible, especially when you can literally make more stock and build up your future reserves again.<br />
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There is no way I am conceding the farm or my future farming plans.<br />
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I will start back on gamekeeping duties next week. I will trod Mike's well worn February path: taking stock of inventory, making repairs, having the incubators and hatchers serviced. The boys are feeding the catchers, ready to set in a couple weeks' time. We are all trying to make the transition for the new head keeper as seamless as possible.<br />
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All of us can only embrace hope that the weather will improve, spring will come and grass will grow. Lambs will be born (eventually!) and pheasant chicks will hatch. Even when so much is against us now.<br />
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The back of my whiskey bottle has a quote from Ernest Shakleton: "I believe it is in our nature to explore, to reach out into the unknown." I'm not trekking 1700 miles to the South Pole or even climbing an active Antarctic volcano. But I climb out of bed every morning and face the unknown. That is a start for me.Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-76137868047824333492020-01-13T06:43:00.001-08:002020-01-13T06:43:38.307-08:00The End of The SeasonThank you to everyone for your kind messages after my last post.<br />
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The farm is still here. I am still here. I have good days and bad days. It's to be expected.<br />
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Mike's funeral was cathartic. So many people came that the church and a marquee outside were full, standing room only.<br />
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The family who employ Mike took care of everything for me. Mrs C even did the flower arranging using greenery from the woods and beautiful Narcissus from Cornwall, Mike's home county. </div>
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Mr C drove the coffin in the back of the gun bus, a old Land Rover 101. Mike's old underkeepers, all now head keepers on their own shoots, rode in the back with Mike and me. They reminded me of all the happy, irritating, crazy Mike stories we'd been a part of together. </div>
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There was a lot of laughter in the back of the old gun bus and Mike was at the centre of it as usual. The boys carried the coffin into the crematorium reminding me that Mike always said he should get a discount if he was ever cremated as he'd done half the job himself already in the gas explosion.<br />
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Apologies for the gallows humour but it is a good coping mechanism.<br />
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The family that employed and knew Mike for many years threw him a wonderful wake in the old barn where we meet for shoot days. No black was allowed, only tweeds and comfortable clothes.<br />
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I wish I could remember more of the day. The most I could manage was to hold it together and speak to people. So many kind words, cards, and flowers were sent to us. More importantly over £2000 was raised for <a href="https://www.macmillan.org.uk/">Macmillan Cancer Support</a> by everyone who attended. That would make Mike very happy.<br />
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His legacy, besides being a good husband, is all the young people he trained to become game keepers with respect for the countryside. There's 9 of us here, if you include me. Mike used to say that I was his longest serving apprentice.<br />
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He was so very proud of "his boys" as he called them.<br />
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My sister and my father took it in turns to stay here and keep me company during this time, over Christmas and into the new year. I'm lucky to have such a great family.<br />
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And to add more sadness to this post, I had to have Mike's old spaniel Dulcie put to sleep this morning. She was 16 and enjoying retirement but suffered a stroke last night. I like to think Mike and Dulcie are together now. I have 3 sleeping dogs around me cosying up to the Rayburn while I write, and the wind and rain howl outside. The dogs are by far the most comforting thing in my life.<br />
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OK, no more talk of death for now, I promise.<br />
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It's a shoot day tomorrow so I'm cooking stew for the beaters. The underkeepers are in the butchery readying some birds for orders this week. I'll go and join them in a while. I have six more shoot days to run as acting head keeper. I will keep working on the shoot until a permanent head keeper is found.<br />
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I have to move from this house but the estate has offered me a lovely little cottage just down the road, with a garden and lots of dog walking paths. I've happily accepted this stop gap for at least a year while I find the strength to go forward again. I'll keep you posted.<br />
<br />Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-59238182885389789712019-11-20T06:17:00.000-08:002019-11-20T06:17:47.090-08:00A Long Winter AheadIt's taken two glasses of wine to get this far.<br />
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I haven't posted for awhile because Mike was diagnosed with cancer in August and we've been working hard to fight it with chemotherapy and a positive attitude.<br />
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Sadly, the cancer advanced quickly. My husband passed away in the early hours of Monday morning. He went peacefully in his sleep with family around him, which was a blessing.<br />
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I'm lost and broken and I miss him terribly.<br />
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The shoot season has to go on. I began filling in as Head Keeper when Mike got too poorly to come out. But I had his guidance and experience to help me. Now I'm on my own with two inexperienced young lads, who themselves need guidance. I put Mike's tweeds on and do my best to run the day, manage the clients. and support the underkeepers. Mike always joked that I was his longest serving apprentice, but it feels almost impossible to go on without him.<br />
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This winter is going to be the longest and the hardest to endure.<br />
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The livestock and the dogs give me a reason to get off the couch, and I'm comforted being around them. Even that damn goat who still keeps getting his head stuck in the fence.<br />
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Mike and I were in the process of buying a farm together. I don't know exactly what the future holds but we will still have our farm together, me in practice and him in spirit.<br />
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There's a lot of grieving ahead. Those of us left behind have to figure out how to go on. I will write more when I can, when the grief allows me to see a way out of this.<br />
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Keep us all in your thoughts.<br />
<br />Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-35110511963901150652019-09-10T00:55:00.000-07:002019-09-10T01:13:58.422-07:00A Beginner's Guide to the CowOur neighbour is a cattle farmer, but he's in hospital with back spasms. For sure an occupational hazard in farming, made worse by the ageing process that affects us all. He will be fine, but not in time for today's vet visit to PD (pregnancy diagnose) his herd of 85 cows. He has a very capable farmhand called Ed to do the technical cow type stuff, but today they needed a scribe, someone to write down 1) the cow's ID number and 2) their pregnancy status, shouted out by the vet as he scanned each cow.<br />
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Fact number one: Cows are unbelievably noisy when you separate them from their calves.<br />
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Before the vet arrived, I helped (or tried to help) Ed separate the cows from the calves. It saves time for the vet, and it saves space in the handling yard. I was on gate duty (open / close as needed) and as a sort of cow speedbump, to stop them running through the gaps. But then I had to leave a gap to let their calves out. But not the cows. Cows in, calves out. While preventing the cows you put in from coming out again. I could hear the Benny Hill theme song playing in my head as I moved back and forth, waving hands, being still, and waving hands again.<br />
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We got there in the end. Ed was almost impossibly patient with me and with the cows.<br />
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Fact number two: Cows can be as idiotic as sheep.<br />
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This calf ran the opposite way and got stuck between the feed bars. Ed and I tried to move her in, then out, but she was stuck fast.<br />
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Ed never said a word but walked calmly off, and came back a few minutes later with an angle grinder.<br />
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He cut the bar and tried to push it open. It still wouldn't budge. He walked off calmly in the other direction and came back with a big hammer. A couple of hits shifted the bar to widen the gap. I pushed the calf's butt, he pulled the front end. Freed calf.<br />
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Ed never once swore, or lost his temper. He's as calm as his bovine charges. Mike and I can't even move sheep together without nearly starting divorce proceedings. Ed simply picked up where he left off, moving calves one way and cows the other.<br />
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I might have to hire Ed as my part time shepherd. It's cheaper than a divorce.<br />
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Due to some confusion, the vet was 2 hours late but the farmer's wife plied us with tea and cake so we were content to wait.<br />
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The vet arrived and kitted himself out in a neck-to-ankle plastic gown and two sets of armpit-length gloves, ready to insert the scanner and read the finding though his super-neato computer glasses.<br />
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Fact number three: Cows poop A LOT.<br />
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The vet inserts the scanner into the cow's rectum and reads the findings from above the uterus. He shouts out (above the din of blaring calves and bellowing cows) his findings, i.e. how pregnant is this cow, from empty (no calf), to 25 days pregnant, to 2 1/2 months, 4 months, etc. I write his findings next to the ID number, on paper with a pencil, in the rain, to be tallied by the farmer later. The tested cow leaves the "crush", which is a big crate that immobilises the head so the vet can do his work. A lever opens the crush, but I can only push the level high enough if I stand on my tiptoes. Ed did smile at this. My shortness amuses him.<br />
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Did I mention that cows poop a lot? It's also nearly liquid grass and after a few hours in the yard testing cattle, they pooped enough that a literal lake of poop was up to my ankles. And I got off easy. The vet, being right-handed, was covered in poop all along his right side from the neck down, after inserting his scanner into 85 cow butts.<br />
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And, when cows poop liquid grass, they poop right onto their tail. Which they flick about. I had a few cow poop beauty marks on my face before we finished.<br />
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It was only a few hours' work and I loved every minute of it. Maybe some sunshine and less poop would make it better, but it was fascinating work. And Monty the collie - my favourite farm dog - kept me company throughout.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Monty in action - he's quicker on the cows and more help than me!</span></div>
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I'm wearing a rubber suit so it's fine that Monty comes in for full-body cuddles, covered in....you guessed it...cow poops.<br />
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I was happy to be able to help my neighbour as he has so often helped me when I have been short of winter grass or when I needed somewhere to put my horses temporarily. He can peruse my notes on his pregnant cows when he gets home, although the paper is pretty damp and there are some suspicious stains on the paper. I bet you can guess what that's from.Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-68264747698753878002019-09-06T09:28:00.000-07:002019-09-06T09:28:30.589-07:00The County Fair and Autumn's comingIn August it was our estate's turn to host the County Fair. It's a lot of work for the staff - estate owners want everything to look its best for the public so fences are repaired, fields are mowed, potholes in stone tracks are patched. It's an added expense for the owners, but a chance for an estate to effect repairs and rejuvenation projects mostly ignored for the rest of the agricultural year. After two years, another estate takes over the responsibility of hosting the show and the burden is shared out.<div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Walking to the County Fair</span></div>
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County fairs are traditional events. They're usually quite small compared to the Royal (national) shows. Still, there are showjumping competitions, arts and crafts tents, artisan gin and ciders makers, local food served from the back of converted horse trailers, falconry demonstrations and gun dog competitions. Essentially the county fair exists to showcase all the craft and talent available in the community. I don't class myself as talented but I did make some training toys to sell, made from my felted sheep's fleece, and my dogs are big fans of my work.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Prototype. Molly claimed this one as her own.</span></div>
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I also got the opportunity to cross something off my bucket list: racing a camel. </div>
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No, camel racing is not a common sight in the Hereford countryside but it was a special attraction at this year's show. A team of professional camel handlers allowed a few volunteers to race alongside them. I couldn't believe that they were struggling for volunteers to race ride a camel. I begged for a chance. It seemed people willingly gave up their spaces for me, relieved to be off the hook and camel-free. </div>
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I borrowed a traditional Arab dishdasha (like a long tunic) from the big house as, unsurprisingly, I don't personally own any camel riding clothing. Apparently the estate does. I used my scarf as a belt, and tucked in the spare material to keep from tripping over the hem. I put my comfy training jodphurs on underneath, so no one had to see my underpants. Plus, you know, chafing.</div>
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And I won a race!</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Bertram the camel </span></div>
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OK, I lost two other races, but honestly it was the highlight of my year.</div>
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Anyhoo, back to daily life.</div>
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All our pheasants are now in their woodland pens. The birds like to come off roost and wander in the morning, especially now the wheat fields are cut and they can glean wheat berries as they go. Our first job of the day is taking dogs to round them up, move them off the lanes and back towards home. As jobs go it's a pretty good one. The dogs love it. Mike takes Cheyenne and Biscuit, I take Gertie. Gertie seems to understand the difference between "shoo" the birds and picking up season, and performs both jobs well. She especially loves cooling down in a puddle when we're done.</div>
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All the other dogs are fine. Dulcie continues to have mini-strokes (AKA <a href="https://www.fitzpatrickreferrals.co.uk/neurology/vestibular-disease/">Old Dog Vestibular Syndrome</a>) but still enjoys life, she just falls over every now and then. We have Oldies Afternoons in the garden with Dulcie, Podge, and Pip. They can mooch, chew bones, and sniff about without getting knocked over or bumped by rambunctious play from the youngsters. Molly is on cage rest as she pulled a muscle, but she's on the mend. Miss Betty had an emergency hysterectomy (early signs of pyometra) but she's recovered too. </div>
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The sheep are not doing so well. The flock contracted <a href="https://www.fginsight.com/news/news/sheep-farmers-warned-to-be-on-the-lookout-for-barbers-pole-worm-59690"><i>haemonchus</i> worm</a> shortly after lambing. I lost four ewes in total, even after calling the vets to post-mortem the first dead ewe and starting immediate treatment. </div>
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I lost Grumpy ewe. </div>
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I was upset at her passing, even though I can recall numerous times I would have throttled her with my bare hands (if I could have caught her!). Grumpy's one and only ewe lamb is still doing well which is a small consolation. </div>
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Losing ewes meant I had to bottle feed some of the orphans, just to keep them topped up while they grew into eating grass and hard feed (what I call "sheep chow"). My neighbour James who farms dairy goats came though for me as usual. After he sent his milk away for cheesemaking, he let me have what was left in the tank. I filled up a 20 litres water can with goat's milk. It kept us going, and the goat's milk is much better for the lambs than powdered formula.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Each lamb's daily allowance </span></div>
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The last poorly lamb not responding to treatment died this morning. This year, the vet bills will outweigh the cheques from the livestock market. With the vet's help I've since adapted my flock management program for next season and I hope this will prevent such a poor post-partum lambing result next year.</div>
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But there's no time to worry about the past season. I have to look forward with hope toward next season's lambs. It's tupping time again. I've put the rams and ewes on good fresh grass, to "flush" the ewes and make sure the rams are in top condition for tupping. The rams will go in with the ewes at the end of September. Lambs will be born the end of February through early March..</div>
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Mike is taking the boys to Dorset tomorrow as it's underkeeper Ian's first day running his own shoot. They are there to shake a stick at pheasants and lend moral support. I'm staying behind to chase the wandering pheasants here and make sure my butchery records are up to date. We're being audited for the British Game Alliance Assurance Scheme on Tuesday. The audit ensures we're producing game birds to the highest welfare standards and that the meat has traceable provenance. The BGA purports to help find new markets for our game meat, including China.</div>
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I cut the laying and rearing fields with the tractor over the past few days, so our fields will look tidy for the audit. It also gets rid of old grass and encourages new shoots, which will give me more winter grazing for my sheep. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">It's so satisfying to mow those old weeds down</span></div>
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I still haven't replaced the tractor window I smashed with the tree branch because the tractor cab is much cooler without it. I'll get it repaired in time for winter, when we take off the mower attachment and put on the hydraulic wood splitter. </div>
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My squirrel traps are shut down now, until next spring. My trapping total for this year is 843 grey squirrels. I'm happy to have a break from running my daily trapping route. There are autumn jobs on the horizon. The pear and apple trees are fruiting well and I will make all our chutney and canned fruit for next year from the harvest. The boys shoot a deer a week so there's always something for me to butcher and put in the freezer, or give away.</div>
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We have no wood stacked for winter and we will need to start logging and splitting downed trees that we've earmarked after storms or old age put them on the ground. Because of a disease called Ash Dieback, all the ash trees on the estate need to come out over time. Ash is great burning wood and can be burned green. Mike has his eye on a dead oak that's ready for logging. Oak burns longer so it's a good wood to have in your pile.</div>
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For now, I'm going to put a cake in the oven so there's something to send down to Ian for his first day. It will be hectic and stressful for him, but he can keep cake in his truck and snack when he needs a sugar high. All keepers live on baked goods. I've just wormed the goats this morning, so I'll check on them too, before I walk the dogs. </div>
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I'll let you know how we get on with our audit.</div>
Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-21477554902548380072019-07-18T05:31:00.000-07:002019-07-18T05:31:56.847-07:00June's WorkSummer has finally arrived and brought not just warm, dry days but many of them in a row. It makes it easier to plan big jobs like getting pheasants out to wood or hay cut which require a spell of good weather.<br />
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Last Tuesday was our last hatch of the season. The incubators and hatchers are all scrubbed down and closed up for the season. I will turn the hatching room back into the butchery over the coming months, ready for shooting season.<br />
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Mike, with a lot of help from beaters and staff, managed to get almost half of our birds to wood. Beaters - like Andy here - catch pheasant poults in the sheds, crate the poults and stack the crates on a buggy, ready for their short trip to the woods -<br />
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The crates are stacked 4 high so each trip carries 8 crates. We run two buggies in tandem, so we're always loading or unloading and can keep the process moving. I'm following Mike -<br />
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We pass our neighbour's herd of Hereford suckler cows, <i>i.e.</i> calves that are born and stay with their mothers in a small herd, out on pasture, free to suckle and graze and enjoy the views. The cattle look so well, healthy and content. I can see his hay field behind is cut and on the ground, soon to be baled.<br />
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Hey it's not just the cows that want to enjoy the views. I love admiring good stockmanship.<br />
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When we get to the woodland pen, I check and make sure feed and water stations are full and working-<br />
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Then I can open the crate doors and let the pheasants out -<br />
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They come out in their own time. The brave ones take flight, but the cautious ones stand on the edge of the buggy and check out their surroundings first. I stand back and watch. Way back, as the pheasants inevitably poo when they fly so it's best to be out of target range.<br />
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When my crates are empty, I drive back to the sheds to swap my empty crates for full ones and the process repeats until the woodland pen is full or the sheds are empty. I have to keep a tally of how many crates (15 birds to a crate) that I release. I have a perfectly good phone that has apps I could use to keep track but no, I do this -<br />
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It's only slightly better than Mike's system of scratching marks in the mud inside his buggy -</div>
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Honestly, you think we would embrace the modern conveniences in our pockets.</div>
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The birds are embracing their new outdoor lifestyle and settled in well, finding food and a place to perch up high from predators. We surround the wood with 8ft wire and a strand of electric wire at ground level, just to help protect them while they adapt to living outside. Both will be lifted in due time.</div>
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Now we have to bring food to the woods to feed the pheasants. About this much a week -</div>
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It's delivered to the house on Mondays and the guys have to feed every bag by hand. It is hard work.<br />
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Speaking of animal feed, I've made my own hay this year. This is only because I rented a field and didn't graze it soon enough. The grass got so long, making hay was the only option.<br />
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I hired a contractor to cut and ted (spin the hay to dry it out) my grass. His tedder broke down and rain was coming. I called my neighbour Margaret for help She's runs a feed store and knows everyone. Margaret sent her husband with his old tedder and a friend with even older baler to get me out of trouble -<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVVa17Hk0FfK_eWzYjY0D6_3Ex_eVHZ0kRqRpQzfi3MdbcQteafZFVOyPwwLkTmwFSsVrf9fK8O9nIhGqK4YDI5zL_KOyv2sn5CSDEsQsa2OgvQz5WCwFXxCcu-dQFn4kIgMzCBHCSkJY4/s1600/move+10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVVa17Hk0FfK_eWzYjY0D6_3Ex_eVHZ0kRqRpQzfi3MdbcQteafZFVOyPwwLkTmwFSsVrf9fK8O9nIhGqK4YDI5zL_KOyv2sn5CSDEsQsa2OgvQz5WCwFXxCcu-dQFn4kIgMzCBHCSkJY4/s400/move+10.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">You can see the rain clouds amassing behind us.</span></span></div>
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They left the bales on the field for me to pick up. I rushed out of bed early the next morning to bring them home and stack them. In total it took 4 trips with the trailer. Mike met me to help after I finished the first load. He even brought coffee - the whole pot, sloshing around the floor of the Land Rover, and a couple of mugs on the front seat with Molly. Typical Mike catering, but most welcome even with the dust and dog hair in it. .<br />
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Yes I am still in my pyjamas but I managed to beat the rain! Here's my haul: 125 bales of meadow hay which cost me 50p each for the baling, and a nice bottle of Malbec for Margaret's husband.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Last month during lambing I was paying up to £7 a bale!</span></div>
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I have put tarps over the stack and will leave it for a month or so. Hay can heat up and even burst into flames when it's first baled (same concept as the heating up of your compost pile) so I will wait to store it in the barn until autumn.<br />
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So, to recap (because I love reminding myself it's all done...) ---<br />
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Our hatches are finished,<br />
Half the birds are to wood,<br />
The sheep are all sheared and the fleece sold,<br />
Lambing is done (042 never produced, she was just fat!),<br />
And the hay is in!<br />
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It's been a productive month.<br />
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On the down side, my vegetable garden is pathetic. The rabbits ate my runner bean plants and kale, so I will be eating rabbits instead of greens. The crows are still stealing my chicken eggs if I don't collect them quick enough. The window on the tractor is still waiting to be fixed, along with belts on the mower and an oil leak on the telehandler.<br />
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And finally, we did not buy the farmhouse and 11 acres. Sadly, we couldn't get the funding in place in time for the auction. But our pheasant vet and her husband bought it, so that's good news. There are plenty of good places out there and we will keep looking until we find ours.<br />
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There's no time to sit on our June accomplishments. Next on the list is the County Fair being held here at the estate, so I have a lot of tractor mowing to do to make everything tidy. My horse field is going to be used as the gun dog arena so I need to get that in shape next. And now that the butchery will be back on line, I can spend a few evenings in a high seat and bag myself a muntjac deer or two to save for beaters' lunches.<br />
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I might even have a day off.Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-71526130264727431832019-06-25T03:39:00.001-07:002019-06-25T03:40:19.369-07:00An Indoor Day. Mostly.It's still raining so I've decided to have an office day indoors. Well, mostly indoors; I will have to spend a few hours outside checking my trap lines and walking dogs.<br />
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And there's no point going in the garden. The vegetable garden is shocking this year. My beans and squash are way behind. My only good harvest this season may be tomatoes and cucumbers from the greenhouse and fruit from the orchard. Only the weeds are flourishing and it's too wet to walk on the soil and sort them out. It happens like that some years.<br />
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Molly likes having office days too -</div>
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She "doesn't do rain".</div>
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We just finished taking off this morning's hatch of partridge and pheasants. My job (and it's my favourite!) is helping stragglers out of their shells. Here's a short video showing a partridge needing a little help -</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwid-hekhYC17Lvp8dPA25pdVw9Pd21B2FbFZ2adYBB_Ws0oUXODfWOIsFIL6WEiTjAF6Cp7nWvk0DFjsrLtQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I'm only doing it one-handed because I have to hold the camera</span></div>
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In an average hatch, we probably help out about 100 live pheasant and partridge chicks. About half of those survive, so over 12 hatches that's about 600 extra live chicks. Partridge chicks, though smaller, are tougher than pheasant chicks and more of them get up on their feet.</div>
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Not a lot of hatcheries do this. Some even feel that it's pointless to rear anything but the strongest chicks. We have to pull out and box all the chicks at a fixed time, so some of the chicks, although strong, are just late.</div>
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Mike usually gives these chicks, which we call "wets", to youngsters who like to raise a few for themselves or to young keepers starting out who can do with an extra few free chicks (each chick costs about 70p to buy normally).</div>
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When I help the late chicks out of the shell, I try and leave a bit of eggshell on the bottom. This encourages the chick to kick off the shell and help strengthen its legs and straighten out its body after being curled up inside the egg -</div>
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The wets go back in the warm hatchers for a few hours together to dry off and gather their strength while we clean down, disinfect and prepare the other chicks for shipment. It gives the wets a bit of extra time to recover.</div>
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Other babies this week include two healthy ewe lambs from Friendly ewe -</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">This one's for your Janice!</span></div>
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Friendly ewe has mastitis in one side, so she's short of milk to feed twins. I bottle feed the lambs a couple times a day to top them up, but they stay with mum for everything else. </div>
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I looked back in my breeding records and see that I noted both ewe 0007 and Friendly ewe had mastitis previously, hence they've both lost one teat (the teat is hard and won't produce milk again). I gave them a free pass from ice camp because 0007's fleece is excellent and Friendly ewe is, well, friendly. Still, they both gave me 3 new ewe lambs in total so it's worth a bit of bottle feeding on my part. </div>
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Ewe 0042 is still left to lamb. I turfed her out in the field a few weeks ago but it looks like she's getting ready to lamb. Finally. I'll bring her back in to the barn and hopefully by the end of the week I will be done with lambs. I will not lamb this late again, if I can help it.</div>
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The other reason for having an office day is organise my paperwork for my accountant. Yes, I have hired a farm accountant now, which is a good sign of progress. </div>
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I'm also meeting with the Agricultural Mortgage Corporation tomorrow, to see if I can get a loan in principle against Milkweed & Teasel, our farmland in Dorset. We have found a farmhouse and 11 acres locally that we're going to make an offer on when it goes to auction in July. We may be quickly outbid which is fine, but Mike and I are now concentrating on selling our land in Dorset and buying a farmhouse with land as our final home, here in Wales. The search may take a year or two, which is also fine. </div>
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Of course, I will keep you posted. Until then I will keep expanding our small farming operation here. And paying taxes I hope!</div>
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Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-72817898394989957122019-06-12T05:52:00.001-07:002019-06-13T08:03:35.066-07:00Elderflowers, Lambs, and a Wet JuneI think it's rained for most of June so far. It's cold enough today that I'm wearing a scarf indoors. If I had any wood left I would light the wood stove. Instead I'm making do with a sweater and a hot water bottle.<br />
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Until this rain came in. I was getting stuck into my tractor mowing. I still have a few fields to cut and the grass is getting too long to be of good feed value. The weather stopped my work, as did my run-in with a tree branch -<br />
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I was watching the mower out of the other window and didn't see the cut branch sticking out. I've ordered another window and will pick up the mowing again when the new window and dry weather arrive.</div>
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Just before the rain came, I managed to pick some elderflower heads to make elderflower cordial, a sweet floral drink that is great as a soft drink in sparkling water, or as an addition to gin or prosecco. </div>
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Common elderflower (<i>Sambucus nigra</i>) grows worldwide and is easy to identify. You want to pick the flowering heads when they're creamy white. The photo below shows flower heads not yet open (green), at their peak (behind), and gone over (right). If you use the overripe flowers, your cordial will have a musty, compost-like taste.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUgglhGpoyJXrLv2BznCcdH9cfRCltAuR3mg6g4tJHIA8MJOyxXMoTbVyz-va5Nn7gqCRKmimbjdQRF7XiX2uVtSWBFHjFdSMApvAJKMr6RSzbm7nZw3GV8-Roj-n8sh8FpbE9iizXQ-s/s1600/elderflower.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUgglhGpoyJXrLv2BznCcdH9cfRCltAuR3mg6g4tJHIA8MJOyxXMoTbVyz-va5Nn7gqCRKmimbjdQRF7XiX2uVtSWBFHjFdSMApvAJKMr6RSzbm7nZw3GV8-Roj-n8sh8FpbE9iizXQ-s/s400/elderflower.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I use the<a href="https://www.rivercottage.net/recipes/elderflower-cordial"> River Cottage recipe</a> as a guideline. I do pick them early and on a warm day. I drop all the heads in a bag and give it a half hour for the bugs to leave the flower heads. </div>
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When the cordial is made, I freeze it in batches in plastic leftover containers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXc-OFoWqAoo5bOx19Z-ta6PlvltAI0QWHD2N-7ajxOJjbjTtODTCSNLgo_mTsL9-aLBI6Ewy9SjwrRalX9yiTPSokIXn7m3cFy3MnGMyqAw0OvW7ORs93YHGwIWL2tgH_yLP7ZzZuVoRz/s1600/cordial.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXc-OFoWqAoo5bOx19Z-ta6PlvltAI0QWHD2N-7ajxOJjbjTtODTCSNLgo_mTsL9-aLBI6Ewy9SjwrRalX9yiTPSokIXn7m3cFy3MnGMyqAw0OvW7ORs93YHGwIWL2tgH_yLP7ZzZuVoRz/s400/cordial.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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It's not glamorous or Instagram worthy to look at, but it's simple and effective.</div>
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When they're frozen, I slide all the batches between wax paper and into a plastic ziplock bag to save freezer space. I can just pull out a few servings at a time through the year.</div>
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I also sent my first Dorset x Friesian lamb to Ice Camp -</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Y4wQ6N1Yaf5AVha6TbU3RLNTzdrw6OY0GNGTdcrM4urCdG-WmfRezZNWTOAhbwjLyOIB-1afLUpgACPY7fIJiOxpkYrVVqbdW2CTgsMkTKBwAtXgtp0s8BmvQSaDOZM3KBNOsO4U_zMq/s1600/lamb+carcase+hybrid.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Y4wQ6N1Yaf5AVha6TbU3RLNTzdrw6OY0GNGTdcrM4urCdG-WmfRezZNWTOAhbwjLyOIB-1afLUpgACPY7fIJiOxpkYrVVqbdW2CTgsMkTKBwAtXgtp0s8BmvQSaDOZM3KBNOsO4U_zMq/s400/lamb+carcase+hybrid.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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The carcase looks pretty good. Leaner than a pedigree Dorset.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZRKbCHswGyQv5dl2ZG4d95MIc5IhOndhyphenhyphenwMQkvaQ90zmZc9cuwu8_-2YOI5SVrC5SWx5K1-rSbzmC2e4cvN7JQmcXkXpJzqgbt3aNI7FbfnVssRyAkk9zyTvtS-Z-5spVoSHQdfwT5me/s1600/lamb+leg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZRKbCHswGyQv5dl2ZG4d95MIc5IhOndhyphenhyphenwMQkvaQ90zmZc9cuwu8_-2YOI5SVrC5SWx5K1-rSbzmC2e4cvN7JQmcXkXpJzqgbt3aNI7FbfnVssRyAkk9zyTvtS-Z-5spVoSHQdfwT5me/s400/lamb+leg.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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When I ringed this lamb's testicles I missed one, so he grew a lot quicker than the others. I wanted to put him in the freezer before any hormones made him taste gamey. I butchered him myself so I could have the bones and scraps for the dogs.</div>
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I can't tell you yet how he tastes. The same afternoon that I set about breaking down the carcase, Mike was given a whole sea bass from our friend Scotty, and a selection of game meats to try from a new butcher. We've been spoiled for choice!</div>
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I had another lamb born last week - a big ram lamb. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDw-vckuxf9PQhyphenhyphenrbcRRcZn37EnpOMZtibjGvNfQWa__uSLZ6jT-mARXiG7C3_ZMkrwh7lk6VcX04N16NwIGj_7ILUZS0dsG1m7cvocqJtKfAGgu0QU8vRk8995Z-G4muuB_ROpsbntZWt/s1600/lamb+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDw-vckuxf9PQhyphenhyphenrbcRRcZn37EnpOMZtibjGvNfQWa__uSLZ6jT-mARXiG7C3_ZMkrwh7lk6VcX04N16NwIGj_7ILUZS0dsG1m7cvocqJtKfAGgu0QU8vRk8995Z-G4muuB_ROpsbntZWt/s400/lamb+4.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Friendly ewe will lamb next, by the weekend I expect. And I still bottle feed lamb number 7 in the field once a day to keep her topped up as mother hasn't got much milk.</div>
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As I'm rained out of the garden and fields, I got on and delivered my fleeces to the Irish wool buyers early this morning.</div>
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I still had the big delivery van from delivering pheasant chicks yesterday so I made good use of it. Each of those bags is called a "sheet" so I have two wool sheets to sell. The buyers will grade the fleece then send payment, so I have to wait and see how we did this year.</div>
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On a positive note, I've just finished last year's tax return and for the first time I have a tax bill to pay! Normally I make so little on the farm after deductions and capital investments that the government pays me a small refund. This year I owe them - only £28 but still a small milestone for the farm business.</div>
Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-22043985264397100972019-06-01T03:02:00.001-07:002019-06-01T03:02:13.711-07:00Shearing DayThe bulk of my flock gets shorn once a year. Timing depends on a lot of factors: after the last frost has passed but before it gets too hot, when the flies that lay eggs in fleece start hatching, on a dry day, long before or shortly after lambing, when you're shearer can fit you in.<br />
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Hence, shearing is probably one of my most stressful times of the year. My anxiety dreams go from my default recurring "I'm a week late for my university classes and don't know where my class is, plus I'm carrying all my luggage with me" dream, to the " I'm trying to gather my sheep and I can't find five of them, some won't be caught, where did I park the trailer?".<br />
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It's not just me who stresses. Angela, my fellow small flock enthusiast, asked me to give her a hand on her shearing day for "moral support". Big farmers with thousands of sheep have no problem getting teams of shearers to work for them - a lot of sheep means good money, usually with commercial (small and less hairy) breeds that shear quickly.<br />
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Only some shearers will even consider doing small flocks like mine where the sheep can take twice as long to shear and it's only a couple hours' work for the time and trouble it takes them to set up their shearing stations. I do understand the economics of it all. And, like so many things in farming, if you need it done so does everyone else, all at the same time. We're all competing for the same skilled workforce.<br />
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We were lucky to find Kieran. He shears big flocks during the day, and does a few small flocks in the evening. He has a mobile shearing unit that he tows behind his truck. He's only 27 yet runs his own farm with his mother and siblings. Kieran is laid back, friendly and talks to the sheep in a kind voice, never losing his temper with even the worst of my thrashing, kicking ewes.<br />
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Kieran set aside time to shear my girls for me. I gathered them and moved them to our lambing barn as rain was forecast and my sheep needed to be dry. Thankfully, the barn holds about 50 sheep comfortably for a couple days as Keiran got held up on some big commercial days. My flock overnighted happily in the barn with plenty of hay for dinner. The extra day also gave me the chance to vaccinate, worm, trim feet and treat any conditions that needed attention, all in a dry barn. Pure bliss!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">In the barn ready to be rid of their heavy fleeces</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The In box....</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">...and the Out box</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq2jye1poTitDZrH_iDe3NcGBBmAZ3DMijZ_ne8kYkTCs2BPxqRccc4NGN6ioZ5aXjxujXSudkOUT0uHFeg8cw8Z9htQKtDYEN0lyI2tHA7Cyu-KFzZHX8nU7gkdpVRF2NvSVaklUGn40X/s1600/shear+fleece.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq2jye1poTitDZrH_iDe3NcGBBmAZ3DMijZ_ne8kYkTCs2BPxqRccc4NGN6ioZ5aXjxujXSudkOUT0uHFeg8cw8Z9htQKtDYEN0lyI2tHA7Cyu-KFzZHX8nU7gkdpVRF2NvSVaklUGn40X/s400/shear+fleece.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Raw fleece ready to be rolled. The dirt and grease washes out easily.</span></div>
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I roll the fleeces while Kieran shears, and the flock filled two great wool sheets to sell to the Irish wool merchants. Selling the fleece will recoup about half of my shearing bill (and Kieran is very reasonably priced). Both Angela and I have booked him for next year, sweetening the deal by keeping him in cakes and cider while he worked. Having the barn and a chilled out shearer took most of the stress out of shearing day. I can go back to my "late for class" anxiety dreams now.<br />
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There are 3 ewes still to lamb. They're taking their time, probably enjoying the pampering and extra grain rations. I had to move them to a makeshift pen during shearing and they go out on grass during the day, but in the evenings they have the whole barn with fresh straw beds and hay for days all to themselves.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A bit of grass and sunshine for the mums to be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The third ewe is a few weeks away yet so I've put her in the field until it's closer to her time.</span></div>
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The shorn flock (minus 6 lambers) have gone back onto good pasture to spend the summer looking at the views and converting grass to flesh. Aside from daily checks, my sheep flock will go on the mental back burner until October, when I will prep the ewes for mating and put the rams in with them for lambs next spring.<br />
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Now my focus is on fields and garden. I will take the log splitter off the tractor and put the mower back on (another sign of summer coming!) and cut any of my grazing pastures that have got too long, This will encourage grass growth that is more nutritious for the sheep in later summer, when I need to rotate their grazing. I can't believe it's the first of June already.Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-64249196555636948542019-05-25T06:58:00.000-07:002019-05-25T06:58:05.526-07:00Men and MachinesBy men, I mean of the sheep variety. Yesterday I collected a new ram for my flock-<br />
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His breeders named him Aladdin, but I've shortened it to a Welsh name: Aled. He's been shown before and is halter trained, plus he has a calm nature. He came home in the back of my pickup and, though we got some strange looks on the highway, he was pretty chill for the hour and a half ride home. He's young and will fill out over the next year, but he's got good conformation. I'm really pleased with him.<br />
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Although it's best to quarantine any new sheep before introducing them to your flock, Aled has a health certificate. Even then, as Aled is a ram, I can't just drop him off in the field with my other rams. Boys fight. And rams fight with their reinforced skulls, repeatedly, until someone gets a concussion. So the accepted method of introducing new rams is to pen them together in a small area so they are too close to get a good run up and butt heads.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Pumpkin is trying to stay out of the way - you can just see his back</span></div>
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I made a pen in a section of the lambing barn next to the ewes using cattle hurdles (extra tall and extra strong) and lots of baler twine for reinforcement. It's working fine, though I had to break up a few fights with my shepherd's crook and a stern word. I'm not sure they care about my disapproving words too much.<br />
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The rams will stay penned in for a few days until they smell like each other and can get along. I'm taking this opportunity while they're indoors to shear the rams. Ed, the neighbour's shepherd, is going to come tonight and do it for me. My rams are just too big for me to manhandle well enough to shear them properly. My ram-handling skills are limited to wooing them with pats and buckets of grain. I'll set up my shearing machine for Ed, then tomorrow after work I can do the few ewes in the barn that are still waiting to lamb.<br />
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I have my own shearing machine, though I'm a terrible shearer. It gets me out of sticky spots, like when a ewe gets maggots in her fleece. I had to treat Grumpy's ewe lamb for maggots this morning. The maggots around her back end were inside her. I had to physically remove them. From inside her. No I'm not taking pictures of that. I then scrubbed her in my kitchen sink with baby shampoo, trimmed her tail, put some anti-fly medicine on her. She proceeded to pee all over my feet (I was wearing crocs). I had pee and maggots on my feet.<br />
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I wonder why I keep sheep sometimes.<br />
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I will get on YouTube later to remind me the steps for shearing sheep properly. I don't know what I would do without YouTube. This week alone I used it to put a new pull cord on one mower, and replace a blade on another mower. I have very little machinery knowledge. Like almost none. I learn as I go along.<br />
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When we got our new (old) tractor, I had to write the list of steps <i>on a note on my phone </i>so I could remember how to start it and what different levers and gears did. Last year we bought a mower to go on the back of the tractor for mowing overgrown fields and paddocks. I taught myself to use it, added more notes to my phone reminder, and paid off the tractor mower by the end of the summer just by hiring myself out to cut people's horse paddock and small fields.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Cutting the pheasant field for Mike last summer. Yes of course I made him pay me!</span></div>
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This week we've made another machinery investment. -<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho564WWxMH45zLtlqwB73KAqa3MQbdj7fV6_vnclC5B5Yg2col2qzMeNClQmlQaGm-0GVs-Hb2BoNwAAdMKTrFYI8xLOvVlR6jny4k75yV3WBtevqIXONOOJccwYGLyxYcJG_pKG5qhrNu/s1600/mary+matbro.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho564WWxMH45zLtlqwB73KAqa3MQbdj7fV6_vnclC5B5Yg2col2qzMeNClQmlQaGm-0GVs-Hb2BoNwAAdMKTrFYI8xLOvVlR6jny4k75yV3WBtevqIXONOOJccwYGLyxYcJG_pKG5qhrNu/s400/mary+matbro.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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It's a telehandler. Basically it has forks or a bucket on the front so one can lift and move heavy things, bales of hay, pallets of stuff, etc. It's great for saving time and saving wear on an ageing body. Again, it's a slightly older model (in our price range) but sound. I had to drive it home from the farm where it was delivered. I sort of learned to drive it on the way and was grateful no other car was coming down the narrow lanes before I got it home.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">It's jointed in the middle - sort of like driving a snake!</span></div>
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I will take a course on using the machine safely. When it comes to dangerous machines, I try and balance "having a go" with being informed. And I'll always ask a local farmer for help when I get stuck.<br />
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I bought a small zero-turn ride on mower over winter because it was such a good deal. I can have it paid off too by just mowing a few lawns and orchards in the area this summer.<br />
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We are trying to accumulate a few basic machines to help with our farming while we are both employed. The telehandler means I can move all my sheep equipment by myself, purchase big bales of hay and straw at significantly cheaper rates than small bales, and buy my sheep feed in ton bags. Mike will use it for pheasant rearing too. I think it's a good investment.<br />
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I promise it's not all work here. In the evenings I let the dogs free range in the orchard. Last night I gave them the bones to chew from the deer i butchered, while I enjoyed a glass of wine. I never underestimate a bit of Dutch courage to get me though things either!<br />
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<br />Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-43285411064429497342019-05-23T05:01:00.001-07:002019-05-23T05:01:28.315-07:00May JobsJust a quick post to show you why I'm a bit slow with the updates.<br />
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I'm lambing again, just a few ewes put to Horned ram for replacement stock. It's slow going but we've had a few born-<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The maternity ward</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ewe 101 and her twins, a ewe and ram lamb</span></div>
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The highlight was Grumpy ewe - she popped out her usual giant single lamb but it was a ewe lamb! Finally!!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Miss Grumpette</span></div>
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Time will tell if she inherits her mother's personality. I'm not sure I can handle a second grumpy in the flock.<br />
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The pheasants are hatching every Tuesday-<br />
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We hatched over 8,000 this week. Mike and I take turns delivering the chicks all around the UK, so Tuesdays are very long days, at least for another couple of months.<br />
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My garden took a hit during the last storm. I lost some seedlings and have had to start over with my beans. The plants are slow to get going but the weeds are out of control already. The weed cover does great job suppressing any weeds underneath, but also creates a slug haven, and I lost my pumpkin and yellow squash seedlings overnight to the beasts. I'm going to put in a few hours this afternoon and try to turn the tide in my favour, and get round two of my seedlings outdoors.<br />
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Otherwise, it's business as usual: rescuing swan chicks that fall down the cattle grids -<br />
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Cutting stuck goats out of the fence -<br />
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You know, just the usual stuff.<br />
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I have bought a new Poll Dorset ram which I will collect tomorrow. He's coming from Stratford-upon-Avon so he might get called Shakespeare. I've also bought some Icelandic sheep, inspired after a day out at a Wool festival. I will pick those up when they're finished lambing . Only a few, to add a bit of colour to my flock and my knitting projects.<br />
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This week there's still lambs to vaccinate, ewes to trim, shearers to organise, dogs to train, squirrels to trap, and possibly more deer to butcher (I did two at lunchtime yesterday).<br />
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I'm feeling my age and what I really want is a nap.<br />
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I'd better go tackle the garden now before it's nothing but nettles.Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-4406344780769358972019-05-01T06:17:00.001-07:002019-05-01T06:17:12.140-07:00Seedlings, Goats, and FleeceSpring is coming. I've heard the first cuckoo of the year. The blossoms are out on the cherry trees and on the blackthorns in the hedgerow. Mike swears by the blackthorns and claims winter isn't over until the blackthorn sheds its blossoms. I put<i> my</i> faith in Kitty the horse: when her winter coat starts coming out in handfuls and the little birds pick up the drifts of horse hair for their nests, I feel it's safe to start putting seedlings in the garden. So that's what I've been doing.<br />
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I've taken over the pigpen garden for squashes and pumpkins, about 5 different varieties. I'm experimenting with planting under permeable weed cover -</div>
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It's reusable and by burning holes into the fabric instead of cutting them, the fabric won't fray (Thank you YouTube...) If it works, I don't have to use chemical sprays or spend every Sunday on my creaky knees weeding the veg patch. </div>
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There's still room in the pigpen garden for my sweet pea, cutting flowers, and tomatillo seedlings, which I'll get to this week. </div>
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I'm only growing cucumbers, tomatoes and tender herbs in the greenhouse -</div>
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The seedlings always look so small when I plant them, and every year I give way to temptation and plant them too thickly. I end up with an impenetrable tomato jungle and unripe tomatoes. I'm practicing restraint this year. </div>
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I'm growing some bush tomatoes and hardier outdoor cucumbers next to the greenhouse, hedging my bets that we'll have another hot, dry summer. I chose different varieties most years, but always have beefsteak and cherry types. Mike would eat only tomatoes and cucumbers for every meal, all summer. (I require a daily amount of cheese at least!)</div>
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I've planted the purple french beans and yellow wax beans where the squashes were last year -</div>
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I cut the hazel stick supports while I was out checking my squirrel traps. The tall ones support the french beans, and I wove a small open panel of hazel to support the dwarf wax beans. I dug in some homemade compost and mulched the seedlings. </div>
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I used both these varieties last year and saved the seeds as they were heritage varieties. The germination was good, and I know that they both grow well in my garden. French beans are expensive and imported from Africa, so I don't buy them in the store. </div>
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The rhubarb crowns in front of the beans are ready to eat and for the next month or two, the boys will be eating rhubarb cakes, muffins, and bars at teatime. Then it's gooseberries, raspberries, and finally apples and pears. Nothing hangs around long enough that we get sick of eating it. Except maybe pheasant.</div>
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Of course, now that the seedlings are going in, the chickens and turkeys are on lock down. They have been free-ranging since last autumn, but will now stay in their run for the growing season. One of my turkeys has gone broody, so I've set 16 turkey eggs in my little tabletop incubator. I hope they will hatch and I can foster them under her.</div>
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Mike and others on the estate are ready for more pigs. I turned their old home back into garden, so Mike had to find another scrap of rough land - it's a corner of his rearing field. Scott the fencer (and happy pork customer) has put in the fence posts for us with his machine -</div>
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We also have a proper pig ark! It was a trade with our local goat farmer for pork and a Christmas turkey-</div>
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I feel we got the better end of the deal, so I will give him more pork from our next lot of pigs for his freezer.</div>
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Speaking of goats, we have seven now -</div>
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That's Nanny Giblets in front, Eileen the three-legged goat (in her winter coat), Talgarth our friendly ginger boy, his sister Nanny White Stripe behind him, then Nanny Magnolia. Nanny Brambles (retired) is too busy eating hay to join the photo op. The horned male goatling doesn't have a name.<br />
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The two goatlings with horns were born to Nanny Ivy last year. We lost Nanny Ivy to old age over the winter. The two horned goatlings are destined for the freezer as one is a boy and one has a congenital birth defect: she was born with her leg on backwards. So we named her Peggy -</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Peggy</span></div>
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Peggy and Eileen were kindred spirits. Peggy was born here, but we ended up with Eileen because...Mike. He was at the local goat farm and there was a lovely, kind goat that was roaming the barns. The farmer said she broke her elbow but it never set right and she had a pronounced limp, but she was such a favourite of the milking staff that she just stayed and did her own thing. Unfortunately for me, Mike had the trailer on back (he bought Nanny Giblets and Nanny Magnolia and was collecting them) so he offered to give this goat with a broken elbow a home.</div>
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Peggy was born not long after, and seemed to bond with Eileen almost right away. Eileen even started producing milk to feed her. They were usually the goats bringing up the rear at feeding times. They even share the same bad leg: front right.</div>
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Peggy adapted better to her disability than Eileen did, and even now Peggy will pogo around the field, withered leg swinging wildly, keeping up with her brother at a run. Eileen found carrying a broken foreleg more challenging.<br />
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Fun Fact: In four-legged animals like goats and horses, 60% of their weight is carried on the front legs, usually 30% each leg (20/20 on the hind legs). So Eileen had over half her weight concentrated on one foreleg.</div>
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Sadly, we had to put Eileen down just a few days ago. The vets examined her and suspected pneumonia, and she wasn't responding to treatment. She got quite thin even though she had her own special padded coat and slept in the barn on straw. Our neighbouring goat farmer once told me that "A sick goat is a dead goat" and he's right. They go down fast and hard.<br />
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So, now we are down to 6 goats. 4 goats after the horned goatlings go to ice camp, but that won't be for a long while yet. And there will be more kids to come too.</div>
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The goat herd is currently on loan to the estate to clear up a small paddock that has become choked and overgrown with ivy, bramble and weeds. </div>
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They are enjoying their new dining experience and have made friends with the chocolate labrador next door. As more disused areas are fenced, I will lend my goats to the cause of clearing up. They are happy to oblige and the varied diet suits them. Nanny Giblets was prone to bloat but I haven't treated her once since she started her paddock clearance diet.</div>
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The weather has been warm and dry, but today and through the weekend it's set to rain. I'm now on my indoor jobs: baking a week's worth of cakes and scones (Hello rhubarb!) and processing some fleece ready for spinning -</div>
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I've been washing it in small batches and preparing it to spin. In the hot weather, I've been drying it on the clothesline in hay nets and sacks I save from my pony carrots. </div>
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I commissioned my friend Angela who, besides shepherding her own flock of sheep, is a knitter and weaver. She used my Dorset yarn, plus Gotland, Icelandic, and Shetland fleeces I'd spun to weave a beautiful scarf for my sister's birthday, here being modeled by Pip -</div>
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The natural colours of the different wools really compliment each other. Angela sells her scarves and Ryeland wool on her <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/TheSheepTreeUK">Etsy</a> site or you can commission your own.<br />
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I'm already working on woolly Christmas gifts. The fleece I'm preparing now is from ewe 0007, who I had to catch and treat for a foot infection this morning. I took the chance to look at her fleece and this year's wool is looking just as good. I'll hold her fleece back again. Rainy days give me a good excuse to spin wool and be creative.</div>
Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-12858977008066005582019-04-08T04:37:00.000-07:002019-04-08T04:37:07.652-07:00Vermin and WildlifeIt's pretend spring in England: a few days of t-shirt weather and a sunburn, then we wake up to snow. The animals are sanguine about it as I run around dumping straw and hay for them in the morning, finishing in time for the snow to melt in the afternoon. Eh. The good news is the snow makes the grass grow better; bad news is that it caught my plum tress in full blossom, so it's probably a second year of no crop for me.<br />
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This is also the time of year that we get a lot of calls from farmers. New lambs are vulnerable to foxes and crows so we're asked to deal with any that are attacking the flocks. Canada geese and rabbits are eating the new shoots needed for cattle which will be turned out to pasture in a couple of weeks' time. Trout fisherman want the geese gone as they stir up mud in the fishing lakes. The woodsmen are planting new trees so please could I trap the squirrels around new plantations?<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Fenn traps are quick and effective. Even quicker when I get them by the head.</span></div>
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Vermin control is a big part of the gamekeeper's job, but a thinking person and a nature lover doesn't take a "scorched earth" approach to wildlife. By targeting just the foxes that are taking lambs or geese eating the crops, we keep the farmers happy without leaving a vacuum that incomers will fill. Vermin are only vermin when they're causing a nuisance, otherwise we leave them in peace.<br />
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We divide up the work among the team. The underkeepers manage problem foxes. I manage squirrel trapping. Volunteers who like to shoot and haven't access to their own land are put in touch with farmers to take care of rabbit population build-ups and pockets of squirrels too far away from my trap lines.<br />
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All the keepers shoot the Canada geese, and my job is to retrieve and butcher them. Most of it gets fed to the dogs as we get so many geese, and one can only face eating so much strong wild goose meat.<br />
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I retrieve a few geese pretty much every day now. We try and disturb them too much to sit on eggs. Once goslings start coming, we leave them alone. Killing the parent bird could cause the gosling to suffer and die.<br />
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Spud and Quincy are my Go-To goose girls. They both love swimming and they're big enough to manage a goose, which is a pretty hefty bird, especially dead weight and water-logged. Here's Spud in action-<br />
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(You might want to watch it with the sound off. I talk to my dogs too much. My trainer tells me off for it.)<br />
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This morning the boys sent me for two geese on the trout lake. As an experiment I brought Gertie the spaniel, with Quincy as my back-up. Gertie loves water and her swimming has improved. She might like retrieving a goose. Well, Gertie found it and brought it as far as the reeds but, as I guessed, it was just to big for her to manoeuvre out of the water. Quincy finished the job but credit goes to both dogs-<br />
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One goose was badly wounded, and it was definitely a "big dog" job to swim out and get it, as it would thrash and fight back. -</div>
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When I came home Molly was waiting for me on the stairs with this, like "I'm a good retriever too!"<br />
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You are, Molly, but you don't like water. Still, points for wrestling that pillow into submission, and looking very sweet.<br />
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It's cold and raining today but the birdsong is constant so spring must be coming. House sparrows and blackbirds are fighting territory wars that Games of Thrones would be proud of. Mike has just come in for a cup of tea and lit the Rayburn because he said "The dogs look cold". The dogs. Molly and Miss Betty, sat on fleece beds at my feet, both snoring. .<br />
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I guess I'd better go butcher those geese and cook up some pheasant eggs, so my cold dogs can have a hot lunch. Mike can have sandwiches.Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-48707361797714187332019-03-27T11:10:00.001-07:002019-03-27T11:10:40.056-07:00Our horses, Kitty & SamHow about an update on the horses? You know Kitty, but you haven't met Sam.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sam the day I brought him home, hairy and dusty, just off the mountain.</span></div>
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I bought Sam last February. A Welsh Trekking centre closed down and was selling its trail riding horses. Sam is 23 years old, which is pretty senior for a horse, but about the same age as Kitty. He's still fit and sound after his trekking work, but ready for a quieter retirement. I felt Kitty should have a companion and Sam seemed a good choice.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sam four months later after a little extra TLC</span></div>
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Sam is great under saddle and, being a little shorter than Kitty, it's easier for me to hop on and off on a ride to open gates or move logs blocking a path. I'm also getting a bit senior and my flexibility isn't what it was. He's a hardy native breed - a Fell cross - and his passported name is Black Sam, though the years have turned his face and neck grey. Grey hair is just something else we have in common.<br />
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Like all native horses, he can be cheeky. We saddled up for our first ride - Kitty and Mike, Sam and me. I stood on a mounting block and got ready to throw my leg over Sam. He quietly stepped sideways out of reach, looked at me, and just pushed me ever so gently with his nose off the mounting block! All I could do was laugh. It was kind of endearing. The second try I mounted without a problem but I took his comment on board. We had a pleasant walk in the woods suitable for a retiree.<br />
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Saddled up for our first ride</div>
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As a trekking horse in a commercial situation, Sam had to pull his weight and there wasn't always extra funds for vet visits. He came to me with a bad case of leg mites, and thrush in his hind feet. His teeth are worn where he's had to graze whatever he can find at times. With the vets' and the farrier's help, we are on top of these problems and he's feeling much better. It will take some time to get one of his hind feet back into a proper length and shape, but remedial trimming should have it fixed by summer.<br />
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Sam's only issue is that he doesn't like having his feet picked up, which makes it difficult to examine and trim his feet. The vets sedated him in order to carry out a good investigation of his foot.. We now know that Sam needs a lower dose next time<br />
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The vets were already visitng to check on Kitty's progress and take another scan of her knee.<br />
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Just before Christmas, I went to feed the horses their grain. Kitty was reluctant to move and, when she did, she snorted and bunny-hopped in a panic. Of course this was a Sunday night, in a field with no lights or buildings, and it was getting dark. I called the out-of-hours emergency vet. We needed to get her heart rate down and relieve the pain as a first step.<br />
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The emergency vet did as best an assessment as possible under the circumstances. We loaded her with painkillers and sedatives, and covered her in a warm horse blanket to see her though the night.<br />
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After a few vet visits, x-rays and MRI scans of her stifle (back leg, knee joint), the vets could find nothing obvious except for some arthritis. The vets feel there was some "trauma", possibly slipping in mud, or taking a corner at a canter wrong. "Nothing catastrophic" in her joint was the final assessment. But poor Kitty was still lame, and guarding her stifle. All we could do was support her own ability to heal with anti-inflammatories, time, and patience.<br />
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I'm happy to report that she has come almost totally sound now, and the vets predict she will be rideable again. During her healing, I found her often lying down with Sam grazing nearby. She never laid down when she was on her own, which can be a sign of insecurity. It was one of the reasons I looked for a companion for her. She deserves to nap in her dotage. I think Sam came at just the right time. Of course it may have been the fact that the two of them career around the field and play that caused the initial trauma!<br />
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The vets struggled to get a good picture of Kitty's stifle joint because she has "fat knees". Poor Kitty. That is just adding insult to injury.<br />
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Kitty weathers her sedatives well, relaxing and sometimes having a little snore while the vets repeat the MRI scan -<br />
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She's muddy and hairy from a winter off, and will have the spring to continue recovering, grazing fresh grass and getting fatter knees.<br />
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Sam had his sedation and exam after Kitty. It took the two vets and me to keep him from falling over while they examined his feet. He was 900lbs of roofied horse, listing like a small boat in a storm. Kitty stood by Sam while he came out of his sedation, keeping watch and giving him a bit of comfort.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sam stood like that for nearly an hour!</span></div>
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I think they're good for each other..Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-67191400297247407682019-03-05T09:31:00.002-08:002019-03-05T09:31:55.303-08:00Some Nice Things About Small Town LifeWhen I go to the village hairdresser, I can bring Miss Betty. While I wait for the hair dye to work on my greys, Faith gives Miss Betty her haircut-<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A little off the top</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Happy to lay on her back and have her belly trimmed</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">That was all me!</span></div>
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Mike and all the underkeepers go to Faith for their group haircuts <i>en masse</i>, after summer is over and it's time to look smart for the shooting season. Even the bosses have their hair cut by Faith.<br />
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When Faith was looking for another dog, we found her a pup. She owns Hadley Bubbles brother, Oscar.<br />
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There's some nice things about living in a small town.</div>
<br />Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-1913549422592719332019-03-02T05:44:00.000-08:002019-03-02T05:44:34.238-08:00Under ConstructionThis time last year, we were still shovelling ourselves out from under a record snowfall. This year we've had record high temperatures and a couple weeks without much rainfall. Our heavy clay soil is dry enough to get big machines and tractors on it, and to start some bigger projects.<br />
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Project no 1: Mike's new poly tunnels-<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Gertie is looking for the pheasants already </span></div>
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Mike and six helpers with a telescopic handling machine put them up in a couple of days. I was surprised how straightforward they are to put up.<br />
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We acquired them from local fruit farmers when they upgraded their equipment. The tunnels are getting a new lease of life as a pheasant shelter. It will help protect the laying hens against extreme weather and rain while we keep them penned in and collect their eggs.<br />
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We're trialling it on the coldest, wettest part of the laying field. If it is successful, we will cover the rest of the pens next year.<br />
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Project no 2: The estate has also put some stone and hardcore around our barns on the laying field. The big trucks were getting stuck in the mud trying to deliver pheasant food. Now there's hard standing, a clean path to the pheasant sheds and plumbed in water - no more buckets!!<br />
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The work was done by a proper construction company but, as it's a small village, the guys in charge of the construction work are also in my shooting syndicate and drink at the pub where I work. I know their wives and they know what I look like in my pyjamas ( I wasn't getting dressed just to bring them a cup of coffee!)<br />
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The photo is of the "before" and I did a little video of the "after" this morning.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzwcbE8w9fTQN2dBb0b7zlZWVkSz-rG4ScAcp3dWMcJC5-3QxbqPyNUZDO2hrwS6Y68gR9k65bq48BX38n-Vg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">When I refer to "sheds" I mean the broody huts we use to raise young pheasants under heat</span></div>
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Project no 3: While the construction guys were here, they kindly levelled my old pig enclosure for me.<br />
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Oh yes, last year we got our first pigs (Spoiler Alert - they are already in the freezer)<br />
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We bought six 12 week old weaners: Mangalitza x Gloucester Old Spot. We wanted them to root up and kill (or at least weaken) an ever-expanding patch of bamboo. Then we wanted to eat them.<br />
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We didn't have a pig ark but went to a local food factory and picked up a giant plastic barrel used to ship concentrated orange juice. It's there in the background of the photo. It worked great filled with straw bedding as a temporary pig house.<br />
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The six pigs were owned cooperatively; Mike and I bought one, and other workers and families on the estate bought the others to share. Each paid the cost of the weaner, one sixth of the feed, and one sixth of the slaughter and butchery charges. We fed and cared for them while they proceeded to decimate the invasive bamboo in our garden. And everyone ended up with plenty of outdoor-reared delicious pork for their freezers.<br />
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Oh yes, so, the construction guys levelled the now rooted and mostly bamboo-free pig area with their machines and added some top soil for good measure -<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Instant garden!</span></div>
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I checked with our agronomist and I can go ahead and plant straight into the soil, no worries about illness or disease from the pigs. I'll be using half of the area this season to grow my courgettes, pumpkins, and some cut flowers. It's doubled the size of my vegetable plot so now my squashes can run wild and unhampered. Well, unhampered if I can keep the dogs and rabbits from eating them.<br />
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I've already bought most of my seeds for this season and drawn up a rough plan, which I can expand to fill the new space.<br />
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Mike just told me that rain and strong winds are on their way tomorrow. I let the horned ewe and baby out of the barn and into a grass pen in the garden, just after I made the video, to get them both grazing.<br />
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I think that they will be going back into the barn later, until the worst of it passes.</div>
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It feels like spring but it's not. Not yet.</div>
<br />Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-73432180490235211172019-02-25T08:49:00.001-08:002019-02-25T10:03:26.301-08:00What's been happening with the sheep this week.My horned ewe did lamb a couple hours after I posted. She popped out a nice healthy ewe lamb, unassisted. The good news is the ewe lamb is a pure Horned Dorset; the sad news is she will replace her mother who has severe mastitis and will have to be culled. I'm grateful to have a replacement with excellent breeding.<br />
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I bottle feed the lamb four times a day as the ewe isn't producing any milk. But the ewe is an excellent mother otherwise, and being together makes them both happy. I'm just the lady that holds the bottle.<br />
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They are the only pair left in the barn. I moved the 5 ewes and 9 lambs from our orchard to a bigger field with fresh grazing.<br />
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A majority of the ewes in my flock are now related to my horned ram, so I'm looking for a new ram, probably a polled (hornless) one with the right breeding. I still have Bertram the Friesian, but at the moment he is on thin ice with me.<br />
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Bertram likes the ladies. It doesn't matter if they're mine or my neighbours'. And Bertram, with his long dairy sheep legs, can jump a lot of the fences. I often get calls from the neighbours to say Bertram is visiting, wooing their sheep. Thankfully, all the ewes he's managed to reach have already been pregnant, and all my neighbours have seen the funny side of it. Probably because Bertram is very personable.<br />
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Bertram now waits for me to show up in the trailer with a bucket of grain to give him a lift home after his night out carousing.<br />
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I am literally an Uber for a sheep.<br />
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He recognises the Land Rover and wanders over. I get out and give him a pat, and usually some lame speech like "Where do you think you've been, You treat this house like a hotel", etc. Bertram doesn't even have the decency to look contrite. He just walks straight in the trailer and eats his breakfast.<br />
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The farmers don't bother to hide their laughter now. They are laughing down the phone when they call me to tell me Bertram's escaped again.<br />
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I've put him back in with the goats, where the fences are a bit higher and there are some of my ewes (already pregnant) to keep him happy. I love Bertram but he's an arse.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Dropped off in the goat paddock, striding out to see the ladies.</span></div>
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It was market day today, so I got up early and loaded up my last four castrated ram lambs to sell. I'm still very new to the workings of the market, but I'm of the "fake it til you make it" school, and I just get behind guys who look like they know what they're doing, and copy them.</div>
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Once unloaded, you make your way forward, towards the weigh scales, shutting the pens as you funnel forwards -</div>
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We're waiting our turn at the weigh scales - a big platform where an average weight of similar sized lambs is taken -<br />
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As you can see, I had one slightly smaller. They mark him with an "A" but sell him in the same pen. I don't know what the A stands for, but I will find out and let you know. </div>
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I got back from market and gathered 19 of my ewes that were "on tack" - winter grazing on a field used for cattle in spring - and gave them a quick health check, foot trim, and a dose of wormer based on the vet's advice. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAg7F_V6WkD-oG7BI20ew9UwxmOqHQVjmGWkl-DilqLZViO8QJ2qfuPLUcgg1Xru6uWv-c7YYwBA3ji_c8C5xkh7TWljX0MRIEhp4VA-8CwBupzLBTZWQVWPpTGl59U8FW4P4gJLXV0v2v/s1600/ewes+barn.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAg7F_V6WkD-oG7BI20ew9UwxmOqHQVjmGWkl-DilqLZViO8QJ2qfuPLUcgg1Xru6uWv-c7YYwBA3ji_c8C5xkh7TWljX0MRIEhp4VA-8CwBupzLBTZWQVWPpTGl59U8FW4P4gJLXV0v2v/s400/ewes+barn.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The barn is so useful for basic sheep work.</span></div>
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They don't love it, but I think the ewes look way more appreciative of my help than Bertram does.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2V79lbjJzqNV_c4lqASQ-XoOoix4sr1aLmHgQhgPdLOrhtr_kng6JicIZb-TSYK-00Inet3dRjg-utf0rYPBBLXlbXQhokupmVKF03hPLTgFR4aNpWP4CUzn4ctx_JYIlwHyB2CB58iZQ/s1600/ewe.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2V79lbjJzqNV_c4lqASQ-XoOoix4sr1aLmHgQhgPdLOrhtr_kng6JicIZb-TSYK-00Inet3dRjg-utf0rYPBBLXlbXQhokupmVKF03hPLTgFR4aNpWP4CUzn4ctx_JYIlwHyB2CB58iZQ/s400/ewe.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Once tended to, I loaded them up for the short journey to the new field shared with the mums and lambs.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZla-tg2gE4bEnFbNCP7fwj81GBGSzOx5ptUghL-6R3r_67Q_78M6e7CeUFs3v1GJMSr0BNtGuVy3OlSyGbQn5eKY0sCG_85y9ZaCD7_VBQeNHrLpy-1IyWR87Zr5AjYdiWyH-fvRkzwc1/s1600/ewes+trailer.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZla-tg2gE4bEnFbNCP7fwj81GBGSzOx5ptUghL-6R3r_67Q_78M6e7CeUFs3v1GJMSr0BNtGuVy3OlSyGbQn5eKY0sCG_85y9ZaCD7_VBQeNHrLpy-1IyWR87Zr5AjYdiWyH-fvRkzwc1/s400/ewes+trailer.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The new trailer holds our whole flock - it's a double decker!</span></div>
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Now I get to tend to the really fun part: the paperwork.</div>
Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-87885931875367895852019-02-20T04:01:00.002-08:002019-02-20T04:01:14.407-08:00Our New ButcheryThis might be kind of a dull post, but there are pictures of cute lambs at the end of it. You can just skip ahead.<div>
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This year, we built a butchery to process and sell our game direct to consumers. I'm sharing this because I think it's important to remember that game birds are food, not targets. We wouldn't put a single pheasant on the ground if this was not true. <div>
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We spoke to the local planners and standards officers about setting up our own butchery. We have a hatching room which we use in the summer to hatch and sort chicks, but it was empty in the winter. Would that be suitable, with a bit of upgrading? Turns out it would, which dropped the set-up costs significantly as we didn't have to rent a premises or build something new.</div>
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We have a talented estate maintenance team - Stu and Andrej - and between them they clad the walls, put up the plastic curtain barrier, installed sinks, and painted the floor. Mike already had stainless steel tables, and sundries like knives and vacuum packers we acquired over the season, which is only 1 October through 1 February for us. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv7Bni0dqd-avpfB8SLPyTbVzEw5WK6wtJwvEvS9R1SojP23geh5zidoaDsxpN81qDAr3BVY0ib0reqU0shAB5m1zU-xG2QeWRSbchnLj9NyM_Ra_aol0Kue4sfHZ7AUCxISl1UtJveODr/s1600/butchery+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv7Bni0dqd-avpfB8SLPyTbVzEw5WK6wtJwvEvS9R1SojP23geh5zidoaDsxpN81qDAr3BVY0ib0reqU0shAB5m1zU-xG2QeWRSbchnLj9NyM_Ra_aol0Kue4sfHZ7AUCxISl1UtJveODr/s400/butchery+4.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The food safe wall covering going on</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUn0XpSkVcsMfNqQv1mzxOeEZVrrYOVAcViU37fOoFHjjH5B6bNXtOe8pgEeU9QPWOlGkZucdESmiCvkdGt14wm0Z_WHCZNJDL7YY-0FanB7OH376_37kEGVxtVv9hlNP2GZ4EL7SH133c/s1600/butchery+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUn0XpSkVcsMfNqQv1mzxOeEZVrrYOVAcViU37fOoFHjjH5B6bNXtOe8pgEeU9QPWOlGkZucdESmiCvkdGt14wm0Z_WHCZNJDL7YY-0FanB7OH376_37kEGVxtVv9hlNP2GZ4EL7SH133c/s400/butchery+5.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The curtain to separate the butchery from our hatchers and the entrance</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QDCnequDJkgJxnjhyphenhyphenf2CBvS3AeO_h-ZqGJ-9QPh_I32m5peiTq7qQ3EmHZlPKXsBgEC2uud7CjFLQDWa8xfVwuqmN-AkPtwRoV46F4gDpi_I8AyyAS7Dc2jiOlHr3GIM2VVGBVzDYWf-/s1600/butchery+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QDCnequDJkgJxnjhyphenhyphenf2CBvS3AeO_h-ZqGJ-9QPh_I32m5peiTq7qQ3EmHZlPKXsBgEC2uud7CjFLQDWa8xfVwuqmN-AkPtwRoV46F4gDpi_I8AyyAS7Dc2jiOlHr3GIM2VVGBVzDYWf-/s400/butchery+3.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The finished room </span></div>
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The market for game is uncertain, made worse by the insecurity of Brexit. No one can predict what it will mean for exported meat. The estate owners here were not comfortable shooting birds if there was no steady market for the meat. The butchery was our answer, and it works well for shoots of our size. (Very large or very small shoots probably need different solutions.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxOV1geBHfWNbC__4nZYOVcrHCsen9QQQYVI2y3LiSmlvf7kfIiTZ1xyee17zl5lurkKcHt6wOSVTmyFh2kgEDZl3yn70uys7rK_5VP2o-OdBn1gDLBnjDP9o1-jXlSL7ojg-e_LIDdmn/s1600/butchery+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxOV1geBHfWNbC__4nZYOVcrHCsen9QQQYVI2y3LiSmlvf7kfIiTZ1xyee17zl5lurkKcHt6wOSVTmyFh2kgEDZl3yn70uys7rK_5VP2o-OdBn1gDLBnjDP9o1-jXlSL7ojg-e_LIDdmn/s400/butchery+2.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A week's worth of shot game, ready to fill our orders</span></div>
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Via word of mouth and return custom, we sold out, all season long. We sold to pubs, local butchers, direct to people who picked up their orders on site (which is extra nice - being able to open you premises for inspection). We even filled a last minute order for a film company making a movie, who were desperate for rabbits skinned and in the fur. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYPoBjCHA4-cyexF7yW9a7gsT6xg5uEZ-L_nC-4BKbY4pcTBRlNQ-vnb6men6EYh3hzu63xomqyEyvbZCblHY2BoBRfhkk5WWCufQkI79u5Isq8e_ejkC2emSCCZJ1UOq1jHo_K5qIZL24/s1600/butchery+rabbits+.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYPoBjCHA4-cyexF7yW9a7gsT6xg5uEZ-L_nC-4BKbY4pcTBRlNQ-vnb6men6EYh3hzu63xomqyEyvbZCblHY2BoBRfhkk5WWCufQkI79u5Isq8e_ejkC2emSCCZJ1UOq1jHo_K5qIZL24/s400/butchery+rabbits+.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Feather and fur need to be kept separate until butchering, so I gave over one of my house fridges to the rabbit orders. </span></div>
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Meat that didn't make the grade, i.e. it was too bruised or perhaps had a tear from being retrieved, we minced up and sold as dog food. Raw feeding is popular, so legs and carcases were in demand too.</div>
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Our deer stalker has a separate butchery, and we passed business back and forth between us. He took our pheasants to Fortnum & Mason in London, a very prestigious food hall which also stocks his fallow venison. We sold his venison liver - it was our best seller.</div>
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I won't bore you too much with this project. We were glad that it turned out to be a profitable addition to the shooting business, and we plan to invest in it a bit more next year. There's a sausage maker and commercial grade mincer on our shopping list. In our first season, we managed to wear out two domestic vac packing machines before we bought a more commercial one, and it's holding up great.</div>
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I'm especially pleased that all the pheasant and partridge we supply were once an egg laid on a field near the house, hatched in the barn, raised and released within a few miles radius, shot and butchered in the barn, and sold direct. Few food miles, complete trace-ability, and a very affordable product: boneless pheasant breasts are 65p each, a brace of partridge crowns is £2, whole oven ready rabbits £1.50 each. </div>
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OK, how about some cute lamb photos now?</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ewes and lambs in the orchard</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieDH-oFwAiMwHyOPAayHbhX0cbN8yJxxOYAnWiAftRhzIegxTfRE2jVR4DYs2_XXIGgq62gMCfGZ0Z6R0vNalwwP35Sfvi6vstxH38sBxIEQK6InUrELYGhfBfomqt49V1S0hXLrftcKl_/s1600/lambs+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieDH-oFwAiMwHyOPAayHbhX0cbN8yJxxOYAnWiAftRhzIegxTfRE2jVR4DYs2_XXIGgq62gMCfGZ0Z6R0vNalwwP35Sfvi6vstxH38sBxIEQK6InUrELYGhfBfomqt49V1S0hXLrftcKl_/s400/lambs+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Friendly lamb no 5</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDMK6852U3O5x2KR7H9r1iW2jMv-tZCDavnoqslzTkXRNQqugM4lhUWUwg7WIt4xYjczk5GkHXNXcmBYMdupp6rkyCYc6cKMCz45nbgeYMp6tzAqrlNyx3cKDI-hJqKHwLB-7L4CHjvFod/s1600/lambs+moose.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDMK6852U3O5x2KR7H9r1iW2jMv-tZCDavnoqslzTkXRNQqugM4lhUWUwg7WIt4xYjczk5GkHXNXcmBYMdupp6rkyCYc6cKMCz45nbgeYMp6tzAqrlNyx3cKDI-hJqKHwLB-7L4CHjvFod/s400/lambs+moose.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Moose and her new ewe lamb, Squirrel</span></div>
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There are 9 lambs so far. Six ewes have lambed, two are still to give birth. My other horned ewe has started to make her birthing nest, and her sides have gone hollow so there should be another birth today. I have some of last year's lambs to trim up now, and I'll select out the biggest ram lambs to take to market on Monday. Fingers crossed the prices stay high another week!</div>
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Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-64802934431421203922019-02-09T05:01:00.002-08:002019-02-09T05:03:38.329-08:00Storm Eric We've been battling rain and strong winds here in the UK, but lambing goes on. Five ewes have lambed now, and I have 4 ewe lambs and 4 ram lambs (and no more lamb casualties!) I've put the next batch of pregnant ewes in the barn ready to lamb. This morning, it was looking pretty crowded in there-<br />
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If I turfed the families out into the icy rain and winds earlier, the ewes would use up energy keeping warm that they need to produce milk. The lambs struggle to stay warm in the wet, more so than in the cold. In the barn there is protection from the elements, plus an all-day hay and grain buffet.<br />
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Pasture is as limited as I've ever known it. Every farmer is utilising every corner where grass is growing. Our neighbour usually lets me have a small paddock this time of year, but he's been just as desperate and needed to keep it for his rams.<br />
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So, my ewes are now grazing the lawn-<br />
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The rain broke this morning so, after chores, I set up a fenced area in the orchard and let four of the ewes out to graze with their lambs. It gives the ewes access to the hedges too, with a mix of plants like ivy and willow, which ewes seem to nibble as a tonic or medication.<br />
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Ewe 0007, a first time mother, is still a bit confused and unsure about motherhood. She only has one lamb to cope with, not the usual twins. But, to give her time to strengthen her bond with her baby, I have left her penned in the barn with the yet-to-lamb ewes. I will probably bring a dog to her pen later, which can sometimes kickstart the maternal instincts to protect. I'm sure it will be fine in time, then she can join the others in the orchard.<br />
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Around 4pm is when the lambs get playful and I will try and take a video to post - it's very therapeutic watching lamb zoomies.<br />
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I'm also being watched while I type this.<br />
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Hey Enrique.<br />
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The turkeys and chickens are free-ranging again, now that the vegetable garden is fallow. They have been stripping the last of the kale and turning it into lovely eggs with a deep orange yolk. A perfect use for kale after months of eating it ourselves.<br />
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We added an extra turkey to the flock too. After raising a few for family, the freezer, and the shoot's Christmas Jumper Competition (first prize, oven ready), Mike pardoned the last hen turkey and she's joined the Narragansett turkeys. This turkey is big and white and ungainly as she free-ranges. I keep calling her Christmas Dinner Turkey. She probably needs a better name,<br />
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The bad weather was a good excuse for staying in and reading through seed catalogues. I think it's one of the best ways to spend a dark, wet winter afternoon. I ordered my seeds this morning and if the winds die down, I will continue cleaning out the greenhouse and getting ready for the new growing season.Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8884610467022224157.post-28952801709978817902019-02-02T08:28:00.000-08:002019-02-03T02:41:51.102-08:00Annual Holidays & Miss BettyWe had our last shoot day of the season yesterday, in spite of the snow. All of these photos were taken by Alice. She's one of our regular beaters, earning extra money while she studies to be a vet. Alice also looks after me when we hunt on horseback, and we work together at the pub on Sundays. That's life in a small village for you.<br />
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Young dogs came out for their first taste of the field and future gun dog roles; old dogs came out for a last hurrah, in case they are too stiff and can't come out next year. My team of four, who were very strong this year, enjoyed their day too.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">L-R: Molly, Spud, Quincy, and Gertie waiting patiently for the action to start</span></div>
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My experienced retrievers carry the team, for now -</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Quincy </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Spud </span></div>
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The spaniels are still learning their trade, as demonstrated by Gertie's retrieve -</div>
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Her second retrieve was tidier -</div>
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Both Molly and Gertie certainly show the requisite enthusiasm for their job -</div>
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Even the mature dogs aren't always<i> that</i> mature, especially in fresh snow -</div>
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We had an extra companion for the day too - a lamb that Alice found cold and alone in the snow. I put it in the Land Rover and wrapped it in a dog towel. </div>
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After a few hours in the heated Landy, it warmed up but was still unwell. I dropped it off to the farmer to keep in his barn, with his other lambs needing extra care. </div>
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We celebrated the end to a good season, and lamented the loss of underkeeper Ian, who is moving on to start his own game farm and shoot. We wish him well, and we will all miss him.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mike & Jen</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mike </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">With Mal, my Welsh Santa</span></div>
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Today, the 2nd February is the official start of my annual two week holiday. My holiday was over by 2am this morning with the delivery of 2 healthy lambs, a ewe and a ram lamb. We now have 4 girls and 3 boys in the nursery barn so that's worth the lack of sleep. Mike has headed off to Cornwall for a few days to see family, and bring them all a selection of meat for their freezers.<br />
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The rest of my first day off included removing a hay seed from a goat's eye and butchering the last of our meat chickens and one big turkey, to replenish our freezer. There's turkey soup cooking on the stove right now, and turkey trimmings and offal in the oven for dogs' dinner. I'm planning to have a glass of champagne (a kind gift from a client) and to read my book later, if no more lambs pop out.<br />
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As some of you noticed, we've added a few more dogs to the pack. Shall I start by telling you the story of Miss Betty?<br />
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In June last year, our estate's maintenance guys showed up at the house at breakfast time, with a bundled up fleece coat. Inside was a tiny, terrified dog. Half her fur was missing, and she had scabs all along her sides. Maintenance Stu said he saw her on the side of the road, coming home late the night before. He brought her to us, because everyone brings lost or surplus dogs to the local <strike>suckers</strike> gamekeepers.<br />
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My sister was visiting from California, and she chose the name Betty, in honour of Betty White from the Golden Girls. Betty recovered quickly with some care and vet intervention, and we realised that she had a big attitude, and the "Miss" was added as a mark of respect. We searched for her owners, but no one came forward, and she had no microchip. Mike was instantly smitten, so she now lives here with us.<br />
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Her fur has grown back, long and silky. The vets cured her mange and fleas, removed her rotten teeth and cleaned the others. I cut her toenails back bit by bit, which were growing into the pads of her paws. And she now has drops for her eyes, to correct for poor tear production.<br />
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Her legs are so short, that she can't really navigate the rough terrain on the estate. When we take the other dogs for a walk, Miss Betty rides in a sling around my shoulders. She may be small but she doesn't want to be left out.<br />
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Miss Betty loves fish for dinner, and has a particular hatred for owls, which she barks at when they hoot at night. She's incredibly friendly, even to strangers, and prefers to sleep in a lap or on a hot water bottle. Her other nicknames include: The Angry Burrito ( when owls are around), Four Pounds of Fury (food or owl related barking) and the Bonsai Rottweiler.<br />
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Little dogs are a small package of health problems, due to poor breeding. The vets suggest Miss Betty is around 7-8 years old, and they say they've seen a lot of "handbag" dogs abandoned recently. The result of a fad for buying them, but sadly, their owners soon lose interest. Especially when the medical bills start piling up.<br />
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Luckily, both Mike and I are mad about dogs, and we have funds and time to devote to dogs, even the ones that need eye drops twice a day forever, and bad knees that need operations, or retirees that need meds and supplements to stay mobile and comfortable. It sounds corny, but they more than repay us with their personalities and their company.<br />
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I will tell you about Biscuit and Daisy in the next post.Jennifer Monterohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10003650742439806128noreply@blogger.com8