Soil Association Apprentice

I went to the world sheepdog trials at the weekend and helped out on the Rare Breed Survival Trust stand for the day. We were set up next to some rough fell ewes in a tent, thankfully. It was something of a mud bath, which I think has been a theme for this show season, there was a small stream flowing through the tent. I talked relatively knowledgably about various rare and native breeds to a fair few people before getting a chance to watch the action in the main field. It is pretty impressive to watch these highly skilled dogs and handlers doing their thing. I’m somewhat smitten and am almost convinced that I need to get a dog of my own to train. Or a dog to train me more likely.

I have been piercing ears. The lambs at Willowford are going up to Slack House farm up the road (where the Birdoswald cheese is made) and so they all need to have their tags put in before they go. It’s fairly quick and easy, a click and they are away, most not even flinching at it and the more efficiently I do it the better. By lamb 133 Liam and I are a well oiled tagging machine. Now to load them in the trailer and away up the road. We also collect the replacement ewes that are joining the flock and bring the tup’s down to Willlowford. The tups are an interesting crew, Bob is the Leicester, tall with a roman nose, he is very friendly but if you turn your back on him he will push you over. Magnus is a Gotland and a bit wild, not so keep on people and Raddle is the Suffolk, a big barrel on legs with the most wonderful floppy ears, no wonder his progeny remind me of Eeyore.

We are getting our new Suffolk tup at Wallace field. Unfortunately Skinny Jimmy has passed on and we need a replacement. Now as we all know, the problem with boys is they fight over who gets to be top dog (or top sheep in this case) so we put James and New Jimmy into the smallest pen we have to let them decide what’s what. The reason for this is that in the small pen they can’t get a good enough run up at each other to do any real damage, they like to head-butt you see. After a lot of noise and some fairly hard thumps it seems that James is the boss and New Jimmy is happy about this. It may all get fraught again when they are turned out with the Ewe’s. Then they will be fighting over the wives, as if 51 weren’t enough to go round.

There is an awful lot of mooing coming from the water meadow. If there is a lot of noise it usually means something is wrong and sure enough when I go to investigate Jacob has got himself into trouble. He has found a gap and has got between the fence and the hedge, he cant get in through the three strands of barbed wire that are there to stop him getting out. I shoo him in the right direction and he eventually finds the hole and is reunited with his mum for breakfast. Peace reigns again in the water meadows.

We are finishing the fence at Aglionby with the Halo group. It’s almost complete and we are all getting quite adept with the post knocker, maul (enormous comedy hammer) and monkey strainer. As a special treat today lunch arrives via Land Rover fresh from the oven, hot steak and kidney pie. This is wolfed down in record time, its hungry work knocking in posts!

We arranged an open afternoon at the croft for Organic September. Of course the weather was foul. Mike and Debbie from Eva’s bravely pitched their gazebo in horizontal rain in the orchard to show people around and give them tasters. I pitched the BBQ gazebo strategically behind the lambing shed, out of the way. A fair few brave souls ventured out and sampled our cream teas, burgers and of course apples. I didn’t stay hidden long and showed some enthusiastic youngsters the lambs in the tiny paddock, including Trouble who is doing very nicely now, and Wosi and her calf June. I had a great afternoon and I hope our visitors did too, thanks for coming!

I’m learning what goes into a hedgerow, if I ever want to be able to lay one myself it would be good to know what to plant. Hedgerows are very important habitats as well as barriers for stock and a wonderful source of free food (which I’m all for). Hawthorn, rosehip, sloe, brambles, the odd crab apple and rowan and the inevitable nettles all reside in the hedges at Houghton. Another reason for learning this is that I can pick a basket of goodies for hedgerow jelly, which is massively popular. So I head down to Tarraby, basket and crook in hand with the intention of starting with some wild pear. The ewes are in the Hay meadow and are very interested in what I’m up to. They follow me to the edge of the wood as a flock and watch as I hook a branch with the crook and pick pears with the basket at my feet, fascinating obviously. The ewes creep closer and closer so I stop and watch them. Keeping a close eye on me the ringleader steps right up and sticks her head in the basket. In a sheep’s mind anything a human has in a basket must be food and therefore is to be coveted and stolen given half a chance. It is very funny watching a sheep trying to eat a pear, these wild ones are pretty hard and sheep only have a bottom set of teeth so cant really bite it. She wasn’t giving up though. And her flock-mates wanted to give it a try too… eventually I had to put a stop to it or there would be none for the jelly. Sheep are constantly surprising and entertaining me. I came away chuckling to myself, and the ewes were carefully scouring the area under the tree I’d been picking from.

We have been watching the weather very carefully. There is wheat to harvest and another cut to be taken from two of the fields at Walllace field. Eventually the decision is made this week the after much deliberation and sighing over the weather forecast, why cant there be three consecutive days of nice weather in the whole of August/September? Its all hands on deck then and the lovely neighbour who is contracted to do the cutting is called in, after he has done his own barley the combine rolls into our wheat field. It’s quite impressive to see these monsters at work and the efficiency is awesome. Boys toys apparently but I’m fascinated all the same, the bale wrapping machine seems particularly ingenious. A surreal moment comes later at about 10pm when we go to see if the lads are alright, a moonlit walk through the stubble of the fields to the bright lights of the machines working into the night baling straw. Our Silage will be made into rolls as it’s too damp for the square baler and the machines will be working for some hours yet. I’m thinking of them out in the field when I get home and hope they are not too tired.

The lads from the Halo group are helping us with Hedgerow Jelly. The fruit I picked earlier this week is for a ‘here’s one I started earlier’ moment so that they can make some finished jelly. It is quite a funny sight with all these burly, hard men sat round a table sorting the fruit, washing it and chatting away like little old ladies. They won’t mind me saying this as ‘team fruit’ fully embraced its hunter/gatherer side, wicker baskets and all. Hopefully they will enjoy the pots they took away. It’s not always whacking things with a hammer on the farm.

We have been weaning the lambs at Willowford, after gathering them all into the big barn we separate the lambs from the ewes. Without a drafting gate it’s just a case of getting hold of them and guiding them through a gate to a different pen. They are big lambs and its hard work; we take turns tackling and opening the gate so as not to get too worn out. I still manage to get a good kicking from one lamb though. The ewes are staying in the barn, it’s important to put them on concrete when the lambs are weaned for about 24 hours. This helps the milk to dry up quicker and helps prevent mastitis which is horrible. It can make it easier as well if they are out of earshot of their lambs, although expect a lot of baaing. We then have to move the lambs to clean pasture. They move as a group well but trying to get them in the small triangle field on the other side of the wall is very difficult. They don’t really understand where they are supposed to be going and it is a small gap. They went over the wall instead of behind it several times. As with many things with sheep a lot of patience is required. Eventually they went in and were enjoying the lush new grass.

I’ve been bought a present. I am now the proud owner of a proper crook, which I have been testing out. I tried to catch one of the lambs with it who had a bit of a sore foot. Right, get hook around lamb’s neck. Pull lamb towards me to grab hold of. Lamb swings me round in a circle and escapes. After two attempts and being swung around like a top (to much laughter) the lamb runs out of patience with me and bolts and I have to give up. I think there is some trick I’m missing.

The cattle are in the big Tarraby field and the ewe’s are in the Hay Meadow, not normally a problem but the cattle have learnt that the small shed in the Hay Meadow has hay in it. We have tied gates to the front to stop them getting in but that hasn’t stopped them sticking their heads through and eating the hay. I may have mentioned that Longhorns have a very pointy end. Comedy ensues when two ewes decide they want some hay and squeeze into the shed. The cattle push the Tarraby gate open and head straight for the shed. We now have two trapped ewes in the shed and two cows munching on the hay outside. Why they want the hay when there is lots of lovely fresh grass is beyond me. When I shoo the cows (two of the H’s; Hazel and Hadley) away from the shed, two very relieved ewes bolt out of the shed to join the flock. Which then proceeds to charge into Tarraby field. We now have a mixture of sheep and cattle which I have no hope of unravelling without the help of at least one dog and possibly several people. It won’t hurt them to be together and its best they are away from the troublesome shed in the Hay Meadow!

I’ve been away camping for bank holiday weekend to Scotland. As I’m bringing my equipment back to the house and the chickens come rushing around the corner to greet me, or see if I have any food (more likely). If you have ever watched Jurassic park then the way a chicken runs will be horribly familiar to you. They truly are tiny Velociraptors. I’m just glad they aren’t bigger; I can’t get the image out of my head now. My green wellies are somewhat stained, especially since creosoting the troughs the other week. The chickens seem to think that there may be some food on there, if I stand still they will come and stand on my boots and peck at specks on them. Not food chickens, sorry, but points for trying.

At Willowford there is a problem with the phone line. A BT guy has been dispatched to investigate and soon discovers the problem is cows, which is somewhat inevitable. The pole on the edge of one of the fields has a join in the plastic that covers wire at about cow head height. Obviously this is the perfect thing to nibble at, of more likely lick. The cows have damaged the wire at the join. No problem for out intrepid BT man who fixes it up no problem, except it turns out he has something of a phobia. For cattle. He had to hide in his van until they moved. Being a quite sympathetic sort I find this utterly hilarious but do reassure him that he has nothing to fear from the licky Ayrshires, except perhaps a sound licking. He was a little reassured but mentioned how happy he was that he didn’t have a red uniform... unfortunately I had to point out an interesting fact I had recently learnt that cattle, along with most mammals, are dichromatic seeing bluish-purple and yellowy-green best. ‘Like my yellow high-Vis vest?’ ‘Almost certainly.’ I’m not helping this poor guy get over his fear am I?

There is a hole in the fence that is just goose sized. They think we haven’t noticed them slipping through the gap and wandering off in the general direction of the pond in the water meadow. A strategic bit of wood and several nails puts paid to that and later I see one of the escapees looking sadly at the lack of gap in the hedge. He’ll be looking for another way out no doubt.

The importance of a good scratching post is not to be underestimated. When you are a cow there are a few places a well placed hoof or tongue cannot reach. Behind the ears, bottom of the neck, shoulder blades. Any trees and fences in the fields are in for a tough time as several hundred kilos of cow rubbing them will kill but the hardiest. There are a couple of stumpy gnarled trees in the water meadows and Jeremiah was giving them hell when I went down to see them today. Jeremiah is not small; this tree will have a short life I think. Fences and gates are damaged this way too and one of our gate posts has been almost wrenched out of the ground. As long as they don’t learn that this would be the easiest way to escape we will be okay. The fences and gates are mostly a learnt barrier, they wouldn’t stop a cow who was determined if she knew she could get out.