Some Good Things

I've caught up with a few big jobs that were hanging over my head. My sheep got sheared -

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 

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. 

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.

I did the fleece rolling and packing - suitably covered up in just a regular t-shirt.

I photographed this one as I managed to throw it correctly (unlike the previous few). 

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.

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.

While I roll fleece, curse, and sweat profusely, Gertie entertains the troops waiting their turn for a haircut -

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.  

I also picked up the pigs from the abattoir. They killed out beautifully, with an excellent meat to fat ratio -

Half a pig gave me all these chops and 45 sausages, plus the prime cuts. I made bacon with the belly pork -

bone in

bone out

Curing for seven days.

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.

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. 

I took a video (with sound) as we came up on a female muntjac deer "barking" -

  

It's a strange sound if you haven't heard it before. 

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.

Can you see the deer?

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. 

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:

From equisearch.com

Medieval looking, no? It locks a horse's mouth open so the vet can inspect inside without losing a finger.

Sam stood quietly and let her do it. Just crank it open. No meds. No fights. I was stunned.

I think Sam likes the ladies best. 

The vet then told me that they both look "exceptional" and in great condition for their age. I felt like a proud mother.

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. 

This week I will change the tractor's log splitter for the mower, and start topping some grass. If the good weather holds.

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.  

Molly carries her therapy pillow with her most of the day.

I miss my Rayburn but the open fireplace is a pretty good second. The dogs like it too. 

It Ain't Pretty - Well, Some of it is OK

Spring 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.

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.

I've started tomatoes, cucumbers, and sweet peppers for the greenhouse. Homegrown tomatoes alone are worth the effort.

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.

Here is the result-

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.

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.

Thankfully white turkeys are not masters at camouflage

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.

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 Adventures in Yarn Farming. 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.

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 -

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.

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-

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 -

I hand sewed blanket stitch edges and used an old kilt pin from my sewing box to put it together.

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.

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!)

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.

Leftover roof corners are great for labeling rows of plants

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.

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.

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.

The sheep finally got moved to their fresh grass last week and they're looking well for it.

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.

Unlike sheep, they're curious and always up for a road trip.

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.

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.

It may not be a pretty shelter but a cute lamb face makes up for a lot.