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.