August 2007 Archives

I forgot to tell you. I was rotovating a calabrese crop last Saturday and I saw five leverets. Hares are one of my favourite animals. It could be their slight goofyness that I like. Rabbits are a bit too girly and a bit too plentiful. The hare is more like the Ray Mears of the rabbit world.

I also noticed how small all the gamebirds on the farm are for the time of year. I saw some young French partridge today which only looked a few weeks old. I suspect that the birds have nested a second time after the first eggs were destroyed by the heavy rain.

I don't shoot and have only started to take an interest in the wildlife on the farm in the last couple of years. I often regret the fact that I didn't have more time or passion for this side of things when my grandfather (who was a true countryman) was still around to explain it to me.

My mobile telephone is playing up. The line is quite crackly and if I talk on it for more than ten seconds it makes by brain feel hot.

This hasn't stopped it ringing. One of yesterday's calls was from a charming lady who is organising a church flower festival in Uppingham. I suggested that she get in touch with Alison Pratt, our region's NFU Press Officer. She sent me an email today saying "Thank you for putting me in touch with Alison Crapp".

I really must do something about the phone.

We have finally started planting daffodil bulbs - we are a couple of weeks later than usual because of the wet weather.

Had a meeting this morning with a salesman about some new machinery to mechanise a few operations in the potato packhouse.

As I get older I find I have more respect for engineering and "mechanical solutions". I never have to ring a customer and tell them that an order will be late because one of the machines needed to go home early to take their cat to the vet. I have never had a machine fail to show up for work because it had had a heavy night the night before. In fact nearly every machine that we have is teetotal. Actually that's not true, if we include diesel then some of our machines have a drink problem.

I could bounce this idea around all day but, since we don't yet have a fully automatic tractor, it would be better for me to save it for a wet day and get my ass back in the field.

The recent comment from our correspondant in New Zealand has set me worrying. Rob is the expert on all things seeds and wrote that my seed rate for clover looks to be half what it should be. He should know - he grew the seed.

I bet that I've done my usual acres/hectares blunder and that I should actually have put on 2.471 times more. Still its all emerged and it looks pretty thick (and so do I it would appear).

Rob is a good mate of mine who left Lincolnshire a few years ago to start farming in Methven, New Zealand. He is a manager for South Pacific Seeds and has recently bought a farm of his own too. He has also built a house and got married but still seems to have plenty of time left for skiing. This says a lot about Rob's ability but also a bit about how much simpler it is to get things done down under. I love it out there. I might have to go and collect my clover seed in person next year, would the saving pay for the flight?

I heard on the radio that the government is going to start putting unpleasant photographs onto packets of cigarettes to discourage smokers. My inside source tells me that the photos include a diseased lung, a set of rotting teeth and gums, a man with a growth on his neck, John McCririck taking a bath and Margaret Beckett on her wedding day.

Hi I'm Troy McClure

You might remember me from such programmes as the Look North News and Friday's Gardeners World

So did you see it? My star appearance on Gardeners World on Friday. It was right at the end and lasted for about three seconds. Don't worry, I'll still talk to you even though I am now a bona fide A list celebrity.

Not sure about the voice though. For a start I couldn't work out why the commentary about our business had been dubbed in that strange bumpkin's voice. Then it painfully dawned on me that it was my voice. My voice. I sound like that. That is the way that it sounds when I talk. That's what comes out when I open my mouth.

I am so self-concious that I have barely spoken twenty words since Friday. Have found these voice changers on ebay, maybe it would help if I bought one and ran it on the male setting.

Nipped down to the Norfolk coast on Sunday night and it was quite clear that most of the motorists going the other way recognised me from the three second appearance two nights earlier. I tried to be humble and just gave them a modest and knowing smile.

Our farming neighbour, John Goodale, usually has a sage piece of advice. Today I was saying that at some point in the future I would like to see some livestock back on our farm. John's advice

The only thing that you want on a farm with teeth is a saw

Yesterday I met one of my own school mates, Richard Gibson, or "Gibbo" to give you his proper name.

I'm at the office rather early this morning for a Saturday. My body clock is all over the place at the moment because my life is being controlled by a large, green tank of water. What do you mean, Matthew? Tank of water? You're making no sense to us, man. Have you been inhaling glue? Why can't you just speak normally?

Sorry. We sterilise all our daffodil bulbs in hot water before...

Hello.

You know what I'm like when I have had a busy day. I get all self important and put in a really dull entry. Here goes.

Are you familiar with Emos. Definition here

They are those (usually teenage) folk in black clothes with floppy dyed black hair, pale skin, with a possibly pierced lip and a definately miserable face. I believe Emo is short for "emotional". In my day we called them "Goths" and avoided them.

They are a bit like badgers. Like badgers they are rarely seen in daylight and their colouring is the same, the main difference is that the Emo smells slightly worse. I have never seen a live badger around here but today I saw my first Emo. He was somewhere between 16 and 19, he had long hair and was riding through Moulton Seas End on a skateboard. I don't think he had TB, but you can't be too careful.

Back in the day, before Eastern Europe had been invented, teenagers used to work on farms like ours cleaning tulip bulbs. You never see a teenager on a farm now.

I don't want to sound like a geriatric here. I'm not simply saying that a good days work would have done him good (I AM implying it though and God knows I'm thinking it) but surely he would prefer something to do with his day other than riding about looking morose on a skateboard.

I suppose I had a couple of years of listening to the Smiths and feeling sorry for myself around that period of my life. But I did start growing my own flowers at 16 and had bought myself a new car at 18. (I'm not sure that Morrissey would have approved of my youthful enterprise or capitalist instinct.)

I know that moaning about teenagers is the beginning of the end. What is wrong with me? Writing this blog is bringing out the worst in me, I sound like a Conservative MP.

If you agree with the sentiments however and are in the Northumberland area and can offer work experience to someone keen and hardworking then please get in touch with Matty S (westviewallotment.5a@hotmail.co.uk). He commented on my last entry that he wants to make a career in farming. As far as I know he isn't an Emo, I'm not sure if he has his own skateboard or not. Pass his details onto anyone who can help.

Yesterday's Sunday Telegraph was leading with this article about the alleged unfair trading relationships between supermarkets and their suppliers.

Sadly whatever...

I was in a quandry (this is because I have forgotten how to spell dilemma - that looks wrong - and can't find my dictionary)...

Did you see the front page of the Observer today? There is a photo by Spencer Tunick of several hundred nude, yes you heard me right, volunteers standing on a Swiss glacier.

Picture here on the Greenpeace website

Now aside from the obvious concerns that any man would have about getting his kit off in such freezing conditions and then being photographed, I have other reservations about this.

How did those people get there for one thing? Did they walk to Switzerland. Was there not an environmental impact from them even being there.

I'm not trying to be cynical here. Just because I'm not strutting my naked stuff on a glacier, doesn't mean that I don't care about the planet. I applaud the efforts of anyone who can raise awareness of global warming if it helps to slow it down. But how many more wasteful and self-indulgent initiatives will it take. In the short term the best way to slow global warming is to consume less and to travel less.

In the same way that I assume that people know that cigarrettes are bad for your health and cakes make you fat, I assume that most people know that their overconsumption and the use of fossil fuels are bad things. This is hardly classified information.

I hold the rather fatalistic view that most people know that they are consuming scarce resources and damaging the planet but they do it because mankind is ultimately selfish. When things are in short supply they become more desirable, this is why people queue to buy petrol if the price rises by 30%. We have become a nation so obssessed with consuming that most people believe that they can solve the problem by buying more stuff rather than less.

Instead of holding stadium concerts about global warming or getting your willy out on a glacier, isn't it better to lead by example. Unless we invest heavily in developing green energy and curb needless consumerism very quickly, our civilization is doomed.

Hey, I forgot to tell you. When I called Matt Phillips to order the clover seed, we chatted for a minute and then he said "Hang On. Oh sorry, I thought you were the other Matthew Naylor."

"WHAT!" says I. "The OTHER Matthew Naylor." That took the shine off my day I can tell you.

Now I know I've not got the most original name in the world. This would have perhaps been more astounding to you if I had a name like Clarence Tamasauskicne-Hattstand (apologies to the many Clarence Tamasauskicne-Hattstands out there who read this blog. You have a very nice name by the way, Clarences)

I had always, pehaps arrogantly, assumed that I was the first Matthew Naylor people would think of when it came to farmers in Lincolnshire. At least he didn't say, "Hang On. Oh sorry, I thought you were one of the other Matthew Naylors."

This is made worse because I know that there is already another Matthew Naylor in Spalding. Apparantly he occasionally he writes in to the FHM letters page about blokey stuff which suprises people who know me. There is another one in Lincoln who has "something to do with churches".

The comedian Dave Gorman had an interesting project to try to meet as many Dave Gormans as he could. Not sure that I could do anything like that. I do have a couple of plans up my sleeve though.

One of my ideas is a strategic cull of Matthew Naylors. I am told that to have us chased by a pack of hungry dogs and people on horseback is the best way to ensure the survival of the fittest and most quick-witted Matthew Naylors. The only problem with this suggestion is that I am likely to be the first Matthew Naylor (which would be a nice change) to be devoured.

Clearly the simplest way is going to be to change my name to Matthew "Beecher" Naylor. (Are you still reading the blog, Ian?)

Yesterday afternoon was spent sowing clover on some silty land at Welland House after a crop of onions. This is part of our new policy to...

This morning I received an email from from Kit Papworth (who you may remember was voted Arable Farmer of the Future, in the past)....

Alison called a moment ago to say that she has been chosen as one of the finalists in the Field's Rural Entrepreneur Award

After mocking the contents of her husband's sausage in the last entry and telling the world (or at least the three people in the world who read this blog 1. My Mum, 2. Alison and 3. the legal team at the Farmers Weekly) that she pranged the Merc, I thought it was only fair to share her success.

Well done, Alison and Good Luck (and don't forget who your friends are if you win the £10 000)

Here's one for you. I just popped to the Texaco filling filling station to put some diesel in the Shogun and to buy a Mars ice cream. As I was in the middle of my chip and pin, this agitated (and rather common-looking) woman came bustling up and butted right in.

"Oi, your toilets aren't working".

"No," said the girl on the till (who is sometimes a bit miserable but was actually pretty cheery today), "we're waiting for parts."

"Huh, Tttt, Uh," said the (common-looking) woman, "Great, I'll just go and do a S*!£ on the forecourt then, shall I?"

While this is hardly as bad as witnessing a gangland killing or something, it still took a lot of the pleasure out of eating my Mars ice cream.

Did you read this on the Food for Thought Blog? The TV programme "Look Ten Years Younger" are looking for farmers.

I won't be applying, I don't want to look 14.

Anyway it's only a week until my big TV appearance. Those of you who have been reading the blog since the early days will remember the embarrassing day that I had recording this thing for Gardeners World. Well, the producer rang to say that it is going to be on telly next Friday. So I am already bracing myself for the derision.

I keep having flashbacks to some of the ridiculously whimsical things that I said in the interview and it makes me feel violently sick. I am not sure how stupid someone can make themself look in 3 seconds of air time but I think that previous records are about to be broken.

Who knows where this could lead I might be on with Gok Wan next or maybe even in the next series of "I'm a Celebrity put a Scorpion in my Pants"

I have mentioned my friend Stuart Ashton, the Boston farmer/butcher/entrepreneur/dinnerlady here before. He is not impressed by my blogging. One of his customers asked him this week what "blog" stands for. He said it is an abbreviation of "a sad loser with too much time on his hands."

Occasionally a petty rivalry flares up between us...

I just popped to our local Case/New Holland dealer to collect a couple of parts for our sprayer. I arrived a bit after 8.00 and there was a queue of six farmers in front of me each holding a yellow combine part.

The chap behind the counter who was serving said "Bloody hell, it's like working in McDonalds this morning."

We haven't grown any wheat for a number of years so I have lost touch with that side of things but I didn't think that cereal farmers worked on Saturdays or Sundays. Presumably it's harvest or something.

I was collecting a few nozzle units for the sprayer which is a fairly inexpensive stock item. I was suprised that they come as elaborately packaged as a Royal Doulton Ornament. There was a pretty little box and a printed bag inside. I'm not normally a fan of fancy packaging but this was exquistely done. It wasn't actually tied with a ribbon; that would possibly have been gilding the lily, but otherwise no expensive had been spared.

If any imaginary readers have a special occasion coming up and are looking for a gift for a loved one (maybe an engagement present), I can recommend the quad nozzle unit for an SP3000 sprayer. Imagine their stunned face if they opened one of those little beauties.

I read in a farming paper at lunchtime that an organic farmer had asked Jeff Rooker for a relaxation in the regulations about what can be fed to organic livestock due to the wet weather.

If there is no organic feed then inevitably these animals will have to be fed with conventional food. If they are then it would be dishonest if they were called organic and it would make a mockery of conventional producers. Surely if the organic standard is to have any credibility it must mean NO chemicals applied. This is what consumers are paying extra for.

If I have a season when we use much fewer blight sprays (and heaven knows it won't be this one) can I call my potatoes one quarter organic? You can't be half-organic any more than you can be half-dead or half-pregnant. I am 5ft 6inches tall, does that make me half tall?

Sad news that the Yangtze River Dolphin is extict. (This article explains more.)

It seems a shame that while we UK farmers are devoting our time and money to protecting species which are not threatened by extinction, elsewhere in the world there are much more desperate, depressing and irreversible problems that we could be addressing. If we were genuine in our desire to conserve then this is where we should be.

If you haven't yet read "Last Chance to See" by Douglas Adams then I can recommend it to you. This is a great book by one of my favourite writers about endangered species. Sadly, like the dolphin, Douglas Adams is no longer around. Without them the world, like the Yangtze river, is a crappier place.

I have a little estate car as my private vehicle. By private, I mean non-company car. I don't mean it's an undercover vehicle. Admittedly the filth on the windows is a bit like privacy glass but that has more to do with laziness than a desire to keep a low profile.

I have had this car for about six years and in this time our relationship has become like an unhappy marriage. In fairness to the car I know that I annoy it at least as much as it annoys me. We wind one another up constantly...

Distressing news about the recurrence of Foot and Mouth Disease. Am unqualified to comment but welcome the fact that it is being treated with the necessary seriousness by the government, DEFRA and the media.

Kind thoughts to those affected.

Let's recap. It was very wet (you remember, right?). Then it was very dry. This means that the ground has started to solidify. This is putting an enormous strain on machinery and operator.

Eg The wheel fell off our sprayer. The the bolts attaching the pan to the rim must have shaken loose. This must have happened quickly, it is only a couple of weeks since it was MOT'd and the wheels have been pressure washed each time it has been used to keep the wheel motors clean. I cannot believe how lucky we were that there was no damage.

Today I have been subsoiling a field of light land after a crop of onions. I decided to cultivate it the opposite way to the last crop. I couldn't travel very quickly because the ride was so rough. After an hour I started wishing that I was wearing a support bra.

I can't imagine the misery that we will face harvesting potatoes this year. I do really dislike carrying out tasks that can damage the machinery.

In other news. I cut my favourite finger while slicing a croissant this morning. It is the finger next to the wasp sting (or mosquito bite - no decision yet reached). This loss of a digit a day is an alarming trend.

In other, other news. I was asked for directions today by an extremely ugly man. I can write this with no fear. If he can get lost Fosdyke it is inconcievable that he will be able to find his way around this website.

You will notice from a comment on the last post, that a certain Shropshire correspondant did not have much sympathy for my serious wasp (possibly mosquito) injury. He clearly didn't appreciate just how severe the swelling is on my left hand.

No doubt you are feeling very guilty, Tim. I hope that as I type (in not inconsiderable pain) Tim is saddling up his fastest cow ready to ride into Ludlow to buy me some germolene.

Hey, I've been stung by a wasp. Or possibly bitten by a mosquito. I don't know which, I didn't see the little sod before he made his getaway. There's a price on his head.

Kill this wasp (or mosquito) and claim the bounty.

IT HURTS

We are supplying delphiniums for a very nice Waitrose bouquet called "Grower's Choice" at the moment. The sun is beating today and so we are finally harvesting good quality and steady volumes.

Unfortunately the packer only accepted the blue and white varieties from our last delivery. I'm not sure what was wrong with the lilac or pink ones, I can only think that it was a momentary whim from a prima donna in Quality Control. It wasn't a particular problem to us, they came back and I sold them somewhere else.

It does beg the question though, if the grower isn't choosing what goes into the "Grower's Choice Bouquet", shouldn't it be called "The Quality Controller's Choice Bouquet"?