Soil Association Apprentice

Alex, one of our Monday helpers and I are checking the ewes and lambs at Wallacefield. It doesn’t quite add up and I can hear a plaintive baaing coming from the vicinity of the river, someone is lost. We wander over and sure enough there is a lamb on the wrong side of the fence in the field that is basically a bank to the river Eden. He has slipped through a gap and now can’t remember how to get back. I don’t fancy catching the little blighter, broken pinkie aside it’s a steep bank covered in undergrowth, not fun.

There are reeds appearing in the big field at Houghton. There weren’t any last year but they seemed to have popped up from somewhere and need tackling. Thankfully for a change this isn’t a digging job but a strimming job. The Honda strimmer is big and unwieldy and has a very blunt blade, but the boss has got a new one so I’m optimistic that I can do a better job with it. So if fill it up with petrol, get geared up in my harness and ear defenders and head out to massacre the reeds.

This week we get the Goslings. They come up as day old chicks and we raise them for the Christmas market. I had one last year and it was a rare treat indeed. There is another farm locally who is getting some too so they go meet our man in Newcastle and then we pop over to get them from the farm. We have ordered 40, that’s the limit we can sensibly house. They are very free range and have the run of the farm on a day time, but like the chickens they need to be locked up on a night to stop out four legged friends running off with a goose-shaped snack or two.

We have nearly used all the silage at Wallacefield. Now I know the cattle love it but it’s a massive pain, we don’t have a tractor so we pull the bales apart by hand and fill the quad trailer with it, and then take it out to the cattle. We hadn’t intended to have any silage, we normally have small baled hay and some Hayledge, both of these have the advantage of being easy to handle and move about. The wet weather last summer meant that the last cut never got dry enough, hence silage rather than waste. The last bale is now open and the end is in sight.

The spring barley went in last week on the Park at Wallacefield. It’s been rolled too, not by me this time and the next job is to get rid of some of the boulders that have turned up. We track back and forth picking them up then move onto the winter oats to get the smaller ‘combine breakers.’ The oats are looking great; about ankle high now, although there is the usual crop of docks poking through. It was wet and now they are really too far along so the field never got rolled. There are lots of smallish stones that could be caught by the combine in the summer and cause massive problems.

I’m at Willowford and one of the Dorset’s is having her lambs. I bring them into the shed as the weather is foul, hail and wind, not good lamb weather. The second of the lambs is looking a bit limp and lifeless, it’s moving about but without much enthusiasm. We milk mum and tube some colostrum into it in the hope of perking it up. It improves a little but seems too cold so Lauren decides we should implement a trick we learnt on our lambing course, the bucket. We get some warm water in a bucket and pop the lamb in. The important thing is to not leave it to drown but hold its head up.

I’m moving some of the Ewe’s and their lambs to the hay meadow at Tarraby. They stay in the pens a couple of days so we can make sure that the lambs are okay, that the ewe is mothering them properly and we can give them a pedicure. Then they can go out into the field and enjoy the new grass. I’ve been doing some of the foot trimming and I can tell you it is not easy to tip a mule, they are big sheep and they are most unappreciative of my efforts.

We have started the week with more excitement at the Croft. The other week I had a phone call from Tim Perrett at the Soil Association. I met him at a seminar during the winter and he was telling me about a project based on the very popular lambing live which was on TV the last couple of years. There isn’t one planned this year so the Soil Association have planned to do an online version themselves. Tim rang because his original farm had to drop out and they wondered if I would be interested in helping out.

This morning there is a difficult lamb being born. The Ewe has had her first and is having a rest before the next comes. We come back to check on her and discover a head and one leg sticking out. This is no good, we need two legs, that lamb has got to go back in. I hold onto the Ewe whilst Philippa pushes it back in, no easy task it has to be said. Finally it’s back in and we can try and get the legs and head all orientated correctly. After some struggling Philippa makes the wise choice to call for assistance.

Lambing is due to start this week at Houghton and sure enough, Monday night one of our girls is early. I’ve been sent to bring the sheep up to the field just by the house so that we can keep an eye on them easily; I’m doing this by jiggling a bucket of wheat. They all obligingly follow except one which I can see a small woolly blob orbiting. I call Susan and we find the Ewe has had her lambs and one is fine, buzzing about full of beans but one is lying down but is looking about.

We have a new calf at the Croft. It’s a fine day to be born and little Kasper is a cute looking little thing. Mum Croft is very protective so we have to careful moving them to the little paddock which is nearer the house so we can keep an eye on them both. We are on a roll, three calves and two are bull calves.

Anne is about a week overdue. This morning its extremely windy and throwing it down, so of course this is when the calf is born. Im doing some cleaning of ice boxes for meat when one of the boys from the Gilford centre comes running up to tell me to come quick. I head to the little paddock and Susan has got Anne and the calf in the little shed. The calf cant be more than a couple of hours old and it looks a bit wobbly and obviously hasn’t suckled. This is bad news, colostrum is vitally important in the first few hours of life as it gives energy and precious antibodies to the newborn.

It almost feels like spring is in the air, there have been several days this week when the temperature has got up above 9 degrees and the sun has been shining. To make it feel all the more like spring there was a new calf this morning. I’ve been keeping an eye on Cypress as I have calculated all the due dates for our cattle, based on the vet’s prediction of how in calf they were when she PD’d them, and put them on the calendar. Cypress was due according to my calculations on the 27th January. So far no calf, which is making my predictions look pretty stupid. Every morning when I go to feed them I check, hopeful to see a little brown and white blob, but no luck. Then this morning here he is! The first of the year and the first ‘K’ is named Kookaburra. Like all calves he is massive eyed and long legged, I look forward to seeing him running about, well done Cypress!
The house is starting to look like a marmalade factory. We are now in top gear as far as chopping, boiling and bottling marmalade is concerned. This week I actually got a blister from chopping. Next weekend is the Dalemain marmalade festival and we will be having a stall there all weekend. We have finally this weekend entered our submissions to the competition, including those from Halo and Croftlands, two of the groups who regularly come to help on the farm. I hope they win something.
We have been discussing halter training our young store cattle. If they would walk on a halter it would make life so much easier when we have to move them anywhere, if the vet needs to see them or if they need some medicine. I don’t think I’m quite up to showing them. We have enlisted the help of Nicky Luckett who is a local pedigree Longhorn breeder, expert in showing cattle and provided us with a couple of our cows way back in the day (Yolanda and Wasi) Nicky has a few youngsters to halter train so we are going over to help and hopefully learn a bit. The kindest way to do it is in stages with lots of encouragement, this group are heifer calves aged between 8 months and 1 year old. The first job is to actually get the halter on the calf; some are calmer than others. I feel a little like a cow-girl trying to lasso the halter over the horns and ears, but I eventually decide they don’t know me well enough to let me get close enough. We get one into the race and then it is a little easier. The next trick is to try and get the heifer to walk along a little with the halter on, and me holding the other end. These calves are strong and I get dragged around quite a bit but eventually a measure of calm is reached and we move on to the next. Lavender is the last we get to and she is not keen. I manage to get the halter on without too much difficulty but she has a good stamp on my foot in the process, that’s going to bruise! After a bit of fighting me, bucking around and upsetting the others we have calm again. We leave them for a little while to get used to the feeling of the halter. If they wear it for an hour or so a day for a week they get used to it and then you can start trying to lead them. The process takes massive amounts of patience and a lot of sweet talking.The advantages are obvious; cattle that are calm when being handled.

It never rains but pours. This morning when I was feeding the ewes at Houghton I noticed one hanging back on her own when the others came to get their wheat. This is never a good sign although she looked perfectly healthy. I went to investigate and discovered the reason she looked so dejected, she had lost her lamb. She is baaing pitifully at me as if to say, ‘come on sort this out human’, but there is nothing I can do. Its 5 weeks to lambing and its defiantly dead. We isolate her and consult the vet. It could be an infectious cause and we don’t want a repeat of a previous year when toxoplasmosis ran through the flock, (horrifying I’m told.) There is unfortunately no placenta so there is little point in sending it to the vet lab as most infectious causes for abortion are harboured there. There could be a million reasons why, even the fact that she’s a gimmer could contribute, it’s her first lamb. We need to keep an eye out and make sure there are no more in the next few days. It’s not a nice way to start the day but I feel most sorry for the ewe, standing by her lamb baaing her sorrow and confusion to me and her flock mates.
I’ve been trying to get better on the tractor at Willowford. We have been knocking in posts and have been moving the posts around with the tractor and trailer. I’ve to go fill up the trailer with posts. After a wobbly start I manage to get going in second gear (why is that? It feels counter-intuitive to set off in anything but first gear) it feels horribly unstable and every lump and bump means I have to correct our course as the steering seems very sensitive. I am definitely getting better, I didn’t crash and even managed to change gear, an achievement as the location of any of the gears is something of a mystery, there is no gear knob.
Jenny, Daisy’s calf is looking scraggy. All the rest in the weaned calves field are looking great, James the calf especially is looking well and is making friends with anyone who enters the field to see if they have brought any food. So we get them all in the pens for a check up, small cattle are so much easier to move around than the big mama’s, although one does stand on my foot which still hurts somewhat. We decide to give her a wormer as she is looking quite crappy, this might be why she is skinny. We put her in with Wasi and June in the little paddock so that she can get more food, less competition might help her out.
The sheep at Houghton are getting some wheat in the morning and the evening now, as we get closer to lambing its important to get the nutrition right. Most of the year they are quite aloof and wont come anywhere near you but when you have a bucket of wheat in your hands it’s a different matter. As soon as they see me there is a stampede. I often have trouble putting the wheat in the troughs as I get jostled by 50-odd sheep. They are certainly quite unruly and as they are huge pregnant Mule ewes have given me some nice bruises. Sometimes I wish we had small calm sheep.

Whilst I was away there was a tragedy. A sneaky four legged fiend got into the hen house. It was a massacre, we had 24 hens and now there are only 10. I’m kind of glad I didn’t see the carnage, it must have been horrible. I know a fox has to eat too but it did not need to kill that many. Sad times at the farm, no eggs for anyone for a while it think, the poor girls must be traumatised. We have some pullets on order but they won’t be ready until March. Our sad little brood will have to survive until then. The fox is unlikely to be so lucky.
It’s almost time to start getting things planted, it seems like spring might be around the corner despite the recent cold snap. We are planning to get the tomatoes going in the greenhouse and get the sweet peas in. So what we really need is some compost. In steps me with a fork, the sieve and a plastic sheet. First I try the stuff in the top compost heap that we discovered the other week when we were re-arranging it. The heap over the wall from the car park where all the trailer poo/straw goes was looking a little unruly and was spreading into the orchard, so the Halo group and I decided to split it in two and turn it over. We found some great stuff at the bottom that had been merrily composting for quite some time so put it on one side. I try to sieve this but its a little bit claggy and after a frustrating 20 minutes of turning the handle on the sieve I only have a measly 3 small pots of compost. Time for a better plan. I head down the garden to the other heap, the one the gardener keeps for best and find some much more suitable stuff. Soon I have 12 pots ready for planting. Now we need to get them a little warmer, it’s actually below freezing outside now, so they go in the conservatory to warm up. In a couple of days we will be able to start planting I think.
We are starting a new fence at Willowford. There is a long stretch to be put in so we start hammering in the posts. After a post knocker incident (why is the top loose? That wont work!) we have to do it with the maul, a long an arduous process. At lunch time I am sat admiring the lovely sunny wintry day when the curious Angus’s come down for a nosey. What’s this? A row of scratching posts just for us? No! Get lost! I shoo them away, the posts are fine, and if they couldn’t take a little mauling from the cattle they wouldn’t be much good.
The halo group proved their enthusiasm for anything jam-related in autumn so we are getting them on to marmalade making this week. Whilst some of the guys help finish off the wall we have been working on at Wallace field the rest of us get chopping and squeezing. The electric juicer makes life a lot easier and soon we have several pans on the go, chopping the peel and debating thick cut or thin? High peel or low? We are going to enter one of their jars in the marmalade festival at Dalemain at the end of the month, in the community group’s category. I hope they win!

The boss is away and I’ve been left in charge. This is quite a daunting prospect as things tend to keel over as soon as she goes away. Today disaster is averted though when I spot Beechnut acting oddly at Wallace field. She is up near the fence and looks like she is eating the grass through it. I go past again and have a closer look about 20 minutes later and she is still there, that’s not right. I go over and sure enough she has got her horn stuck in the fence. The grass is always greener, but she is not best pleased. As you can imagine it is much harder to disentangle one of our big mama’s than one of the cheeky sheep (who take great delight in getting stuck in fences, gates, hedges, baler twine, troughs etc…) With some help from Ian, one of our Monday volunteers, I get her free. She is very happy and is eager to get the hay we have brought them. The fence needs to be patched but at least there hasn’t been a cow disaster. She would have eventually just pulled the post out and then may have been off up the road to Armathwaite, which would have been a headache.
In order that I don’t get too cocky about managing on my own the Land Rover decides to break down. It refuses to entertain the notion of going backwards, which makes getting out of the yard an impossibility. I have to get the garage to come and take it away and fix the gears (please don’t let it be an entire new gear box) good job I have my own car too. Lets make sure I don’t break that.
Trim is with us at Wallace Field and someone else is herding sheep. As you know Trim wont listen to me so we often have herding problems, but this time its not even our sheep. There are some guys who have come down the drive with a portable pen to check and dose the rent-a-sheep our neighbour has in his field. I realise that Trim is missing just as we are about to have dinner so go to investigate. She has decided that as sheep are being herded within earshot she has a responsibility to help. I go to try and retrieve her but it turns out she is doing okay and actually helping the guys and their dog, despite ignoring all commands aimed at her. I apologise but they don’t mind too much, they think it’s pretty funny in fact. Perhaps we should have been charging them for freelance dog services. Later when we are crushing some wheat Trim falls asleep in the hay, she’s an old lady and it was a tiring morning.
It the weekend and I’ve to get down to Loughborough for the latest of my apprenticeship seminars. This one is pure agricultural so it just me and James, we are staying in the lap of luxury at Lubcloud Dairy farm in Joanna Herbert-Stepney’s cottage. The subjects to be covered are Arable and Beef. I don’t know much about arable but I’ve been spending a lot of time with our cattle so am hoping I have a reasonable knowledge. It’s great to get out and see other farms, everyone likes a good nosey, and the farm which we do our beef unit on also has Longhorns so I am very pleased at this. I come away with a much better knowledge of arable systems and some homework from the beef seminar. How much does it cost us to produce 1kg of our finest beef? It’s a good question which might take me a while to work out!

The lambs I picked out for Brampton market are all at Houghton, they are going to the abattoir tomorrow. Before they go we have to give them a little trim. For hygiene reasons the abattoir doesn’t want muddy or daggy sheep, we have to tidy them up a bit. This usually means ensuring they are dry, so keeping them in the lambing shed overnight and trimming the wool around the tail. We have been having a fairly mild and wet winter, I’m sure you’ve noticed, and so they are getting a lot muddier than usual. To avoid the wrath of the abattoir men we have decided to clip their bellies as well to get rid of all the dirty wool. Luckily we have some electric trimmers which make life easier than using hand shears. It’s quite possible to the job on your own but much easier with two, these lambs are in fact quite large now and can get quite rowdy when they want to. We double team them; I keep them still whilst Susan gives them a trim around the bum. Next I practice my sheep tipping skills (getting there, more practice needed) and put it on its back for a belly trimming. Soon our little group of lambs is looking much neater ready for their final trip tomorrow. Do us proud lambs.
Sometimes a quiet word is all that you need. We want to take Croft from Aglionby back to Houghton. She is due to calve in the near future and we need to give her a bolus. After a tragic loss of a great cow and blood work being done our entire herd has been prescribed these boluses by the vet. They are suffering from mineral deficiencies which are apparently a common problem in the Eden valley. Unfortunately Croft has a bit of a stubborn head on. We have to chase the whole herd round the field several times before getting her into the pen, but eventually she goes in with Yolanda (who is actually her mum and one of our oldest cows) and is loaded up with a bit of cajoling and some hay. We have a group of youngsters doing an agriculture course helping us out today, three lads who are quite keen. Back at Houghton Susan and I decide to speed things along by getting Croft into the crush before the lads catch us up in their bus. The cattle are not daft and will recognise the familiar voice and outline of Susan and to some extent me, which makes it easier to convince them to go in the crush. A gaggle of unfamiliar people is scary, the lads are quite understanding, quiet and careful considering their age, but unfamiliar makes life harder. We get her in and halter her; the last thing you want is a Longhorn whipping its head around when you are trying to give it a bolus. I have a go but lacking confidence don’t manage it so Susan shows me how it’s done. Very quickly Croft is out and reunited with Cypress and Anne who are already in the big Tarraby field.

Wasi’s calf June is looking a bit on the skinny side. We have been watching her for a few days now and suspect that she is not getting milk. Its time to intervene, we get Wasi and June out to Tarraby and load them up to take to Wallace Field where hopefully we can feed her up a bit. What we need (and don’t have) is a calf creep, which is a feeder which will allow June in to get to the food, but that is too small for Wasi. We put our heads together and have a scrounge around for materials. Half a wooden crate, a bent metal hurdle, some pallets, fence posts and a whole lot of baler twine; an idea is forming. After some debate and wielding of the maul we have prototype one. The crate on its side against the fence is high enough to allow June in but thin enough to stop the gigantic-horned Wasi in, the pallet and hurdle make a funnel held with fence posts. Now to test, add some hay and see if Wasi can get in. Clearly too crafty for us, she manages to manoeuvre her horns through the gap in the fence and get the hay. Back on the scrounge we come up with some more pallets to tie to the fence, make the creep a little thinner and block the hole in the fence. Prototype two is almost a success; Wasi can’t get in but can certainly block the entrance. The trick is to give her some food on the other side of the creep, giving June a chance to get in. Now we just have to convince June that wheat is good and we will be well away. We tie a bucket to the inside back wall and fill it with wheat, hopefully she will get the idea.
There is a tree down at Willowford. A huge sycamore has come down by the river and we could do with chopping it up and using it for the wood burner before it gets washed away, which has happened before. So we take the chainsaw, tractor and log splitter down to the river. Liam gets to the task of carving up the trunks and I skirt the edges clearing the smaller branches with an axe, making a big bonfire pile. Once there are some slices I use the log splitter to chop them into smaller manageable chunks. Its hard wood so makes an incredibly satisfying crack when it splits. We soon have a fairly efficient system going on and a huge pile of logs mounts up. There are easily a couple of big trailers full which will keep the farm warm for a good while. Storms can be useful sometimes.
There is an extra sheep at Wallace field. I’ve to get the lambs in, weigh them and pick out three fit ones for the next market. We have a little detour getting them in, Trim is a one woman dog and will not listen to me so disrupts the herding process somewhat. Eventually Skye, with a little help from me, gets them into the pen. There should be 26 but a bright white face catches my eye, there are 27. Our lambs are all Mule cross Suffolk so are black faced and black legged, there is a mutton ewe in with this group but she is a Mule with the black and white face of her Swaledale mother. I catch the interloper, she is a Cheviot I think belonging to a neighbour. She has a tag and I consult the boss who gives me a number for the neighbour, we don’t want her hanging around in our flock any longer than necessary. Promptly a Landover appears from over the hill and we pop her in the back to return to her rightful flock. Profuse apologies are offered, but it’s a fact that sheep are determined to be where they are not supposed to be, it can’t be helped and there’s no harm done.

There have been some escapees at Wallace Field. The heifers in Big Dipper are looking mighty happy and smug when I come down to feed the creatures, I wonder why? I drive round to the shed to get some hay for the calves and find some evidence. Bin of wheat, knocked over. Hay, strewn around and cow pats spread liberally throughout the shed. I suspect cattle have had something to do with this… sure enough the gate to Big Dipper is wide open. It seems the heifers have leant on it (it’s got a dodgy latch) got out and spent much of the previous afternoon and possibly the night chomping away in the shed. Then they took themselves back to their field and tried to look innocent. Nice try girls, shame you cant shut the gate behind you. Guess who isn’t getting much in the way of extra food today.
At Wallace Field the heifers have stayed in Big Dipper today but we are having another problem. The entrance is fairly steep and has got a bit muddy over the last few weeks, inevitably the quad and trailer full of silage for the heifers gets stuck. Team effort is in order and two of us push whilst Susan tries to drive it up and out. Some wheel spin and elbow grease and suddenly its raining mud, all down the back of my neck. I try not to shriek like a girl but its cold and makes me jump, dissolving into laughter I manage one more push and the bike is free. It is decided that we should go up the road and use the top gate in the future.
There is a wall fallen down at Wallace field. The halo group are going to help us fix it on Fridays, it’s a good group project and it’s a fair old length that’s come down. First its time to dig it out, get all the stones out of the area and sort them into size order, which makes it easier when reassembling. It seems the boys have it under control and soon have a system going on, so the girls and I clear out to get on with another job. The stable needs mucking out and the calves have made a lovely mess on the hard-standing their hay hecks are on. We spend a happy hour shovelling various types of poop about. You get used to the smell after a while and the fact that it will be great fertilizer is a motivator. We also discuss muck shovelling as a gym alternative, who needs weights and tread mills when there is shovels and a barrow? Its green gym; a free work out and a good turn for the animals and the environment. Its social and you can see results quickly, if only in the fact that the stable looks clean.

Im feeding the creatures at Houghton. Six bales are in the trailer and two dogs are eager to assist. It’s a fairly simple process although with all the gates it does involve a lot if jumping on and off the quad. The bales for the cattle are put out in the water meadows, they are happy to see me and I have to dodge their horns as they come charging over for breakfast. Best place to be is in the trailer. The ewes are waiting too and theirs goes in the two hecks that are in the field. The dogs very interested at this point, can we round them up, can we can we? Not today thanks. On my way back I get a bit stuck, mud is pretty much a way of life at the moment and I’ve become quite blasé about it in my wellies and waterproof trousers. They every now and then you get caught out. There is an old drain I think in the side of one of the gateways and of course I step in it, up to my knee in very cold water and mud. I have a little difficulty getting out, partly because I’m laughing too much and partly because mud is not easy to grip to pull yourself out. I mark the spot with a stick, which Skye promptly steals and runs off with, enjoying this new game. I squelch back to the house to get dried out, that is what Aga’s are for after all.
I need to learn how to drive the tractor. We don’t have one at Houghton or Wallace Field but Liam has one at Willowford. Sounds simple doesn’t it? I drive two cars and a Landrover at the moment without problems, but have never driven a tractor. This is a particularly elderly specimen, only slightly younger than me. I manage to start it and get it in a gear; gear stick appears to be just that, a metal stick with no indication of where the gears are. The pedals seem to be a huge distance apart and I manage a few feet before stalling it. Start again, get to the deepest part of the mud in the yard and stall it again. At least I haven’t lost the bale off the back yet. Liam jumps off to open the gate and yells to be aware it turns quite sharply. Ill say, I round the corner and nearly run him over. On the whole not my best work, I think I’m going to need some practice. Possibly in a large field with no people or creatures in it. I pride myself on my driving skills so will not be defeated by a crotchety old tractor!
Time is up for the geese. It’s almost Christmas so early this morning the man came to kill the geese for us so that plucking and dressing could begin in earnest. I’m a little sad to see them go and decide not to go watch them meet their fate. I hover at a distance in the field for a while before getting on with other tasks. It’s done quickly, which is a consolation. We have twenty seven to pluck including the one I’m having for Christmas dinner. There is a plucking machine which rough plucks, I get a chance to have a go with it them then our little team gets to the harder job of pulling out the stubborn ends of feathers and the hard to reach areas that the machine has missed. I become somewhat engrossed by getting all the little bits out. The end of the lambing shed is soon full of clouds of little feathers, which we collect in bin bags. I’m going to take some back to home to Leeds with me at Christmas in the hope that my ever-creative little sister can make some pillows or something; it would be a shame to waste them.
Merry Christmas everyone, hope you all had a fabulous festive time, next blog in the new year…

Today we took the heifers in chestnut field; the ones who decided to jump the fence and visit some neighbouring black and whites, back to the main part of the farm. I was a little wary after the previous incident so stood by the fence (repaired by my own fair hand) that proved no barrier to them last time. Apart from them being particularly nosy, peering over every fence and gate, there was no incident. I guess now they know the way there is no problem.
We are making some bonfires at Wallace field, so I load the quad and trailer with ingredients, paper, some straw, chainsaw, baler twine (is there anything baler twine isn’t good for?) and head to the bottom of the big field with the seven calves in it. We take the bits and pieces into Orchid field and get busy making fire. I’ve left the quad in the big field and when I look over again it is surrounded by the calves. They are so curious, what’s this in our field? Humans brought it, is it food? Is that some hay wedged under the seat?! I can’t help laughing, leave the quad alone and go eat your lunch! And for heavens sake don’t get stuck in the ladder.
At Willowford it’s blowing a gale. We are taking the tups out today, they have done their job well and now they get to have a well earned rest in one of the sheds. We go for carrot and a touch of stick to get them in, me jiggling the bucket and Liam and Millie the dog bringing up the rear to catch any stragglers who haven’t got the message. One of the ex-pets from two years back, mostly Suffolk and extremely chunky now, thinks that the bucket must be for her and proceeds to leap at me at regular intervals. I have to be quite swift footed, but then when don’t I in this job? We soon get them in, take Geoff out and let the ladies loose again. There is a terrible moment of heart rending indecision from Bob when we try and entice him to the pens, food or ladies? Food or ladies?! Ladies wins out as it always should with any good tup so we have to get them all in and pull Bob out into the pens. I’m afraid there is some bad news, we have had to have Magnus put down. His back injury was too great and he was doing himself more harm trying to stand, the vet came and put him to sleep. It is a sad day, he was a good tup. The boys Bob and Geoff are reunited and after a bit of friendly sniffing and kicking get into the shed and are looking for their lost friend. Bob is still king and Geoff stands behind him, but a trio no more.
We need to get some wheat crushed at Wallace Field. The wheat that we harvested and spent ages drying and bagging earlier in the year is now being fed not only to the birds at Houghton, but to the cattle too. Now somewhat like sweet corn in humans cattle can’t eat the grains whole as they would just come out the other end still whole. Enter neighbour John with his flash new tractor and the crusher, a great big hopper with crushing plates below powered by the tractor. So the wheat is passed into the top and soon it is rattling away at full speed. Shovel in hand I get to the task of scooping it up and bagging it from the bottom. A very noisy fifteen minutes later there is a whole bag of crushed wheat. Looks and smells a little like muesli but with a slightly off-putting vinegary tang, that’ll be the prop-corn we had to use to dry it. Doesn’t stop the calves happily munching it down!

The second of my seminars was this weekend. First we visited Daylesford in Gloucestershire, a wonderfully large operation with a very fancy shop which I felt somewhat out of place in my muddy wellies. Later it was on to Abbey Home Farm where our seminars were to take place, those of us staying over were to sleep in the green room, with its lovely roaring fire, in a somewhat school-trip themed pile on the floor. The next morning it was rotations and fertility building for us first years followed by a grand vegetarian feast and liberal sampling of a local organic beer. Day two saw the first of the specific Agricultural units for the now huge group who have decided on this path, the three of us did ‘Sheep’. About half way through the morning out esteemed tutor decided we had had enough words for a bit and we should go handle some sheep. Thus we spent a happy half hour catching lambs in one of the pens and condition scoring them. I would have been sorely disappointed if a unit on sheep hadn’t included some sheep handling! The afternoon also brought a treat in the form of faecal egg counts, those lambs were getting pretty fed up of us by then. A long journey home through increasingly erratic and horrible weather left me in a particularly sleepy state. A good weekend though.
The first of the snow has arrived. I’ve to take some silage to the ewes and the cattle on the hill at Willowford but have some trouble with the quad so decide to skip to job two on my list. Magnus the Gotland, who was working so hard at tupping his ladies, has had an accident. The vet has been out and confirmed it, he has slipped a disk. He is looking pretty sorry for himself in one of the barns so I’ve to go get him some company while he hopefully recuperates. There are two ewes on the hill who are unfortunately to go out as mutton, they are old and past their best so they have been separated out. Now I have to go get them to keep Magnus company. Now the cattle are quite happy to see me despite the fact that I don’t have a trailer full of silage for them and follow me around the field in hope ill produce some from somewhere, nothing if not optimistic. It isn’t the easiest task finding sheep on the hill at the best of times, it’s lumpy and has quite a lot of reeds that the sheep love to hide in, but in the snow it’s even harder, white on a white background. Eventually the cattle stop following and trying to lick me and I locate the two ewes. A good jiggle of the bucket I’ve got soon gets them on their feet and we are heading to the barn. At least Magnus will have someone to baa to/snuggle up to in this cold weather. The cattle got their silage a bit later when we got the tractor started, jump leads are essential on the farm.
Friday brought something of a change for me. Ayliffe who does the education on the farm needs a hand with Rowan class who are coming to bake Christmas treats. So I find myself somewhat bewildered wearing an apron in front of red group who are making shortbread. Makes a change from wearing mud surrounded by cattle. Soon we are enthusiastically weighing and rolling and arguing if it’s mixed enough. Stars, trees, hearts, a donut and a snowman head are all produced and the aroma of cooking biscuits fills the Tyler room. After a Christmas quiz the wares are examined and tasted before packing up in cellophane to take home as presents. I’m eying up the mince pies made by another group but they are all hovered up. Feeling fully festive now we leave the kids to collect this week’s meat order from the butchery. Perhaps I should make mince pies at the weekend…

I’ve been sent on a solo herding mission. Now in general Sheep dogs will work for one person, Trim is a one woman dog and will start to round up the sheep for me, but I have little control after ‘away’. I’ve been working on Skye and think he will at least obey simple commands from me, time to test the theory; I’ve to get the lambs in at Walllace field. In a flash he’s away and bringing the lambs up the field to me, Trim heads around the outside of the field to catch any stragglers. Just a couple of ‘lie down!’ and the lambs are thundering through the gate next to me followed by a very keen Sheepdog who did exactly what I asked. Trim brings up the rear having been around the entire field. It would have taken me a horrible amount of time to do that without dogs; I know I’ve tried. It wasn’t me who did the actual herding but I feel ridiculously proud of our team work, and give Skye lots of pats and praise. What a team! Now to weigh and sort out six fit lambs for next week, with the dogs carefully watching every move from the edge of the pen just in case they need herding a little bit more. Collies are workaholics.
We have some walls to fix at Willowford, some have become a little dislodged by cheeky sheep with no respect for boundaries so a lesson in dry stone walling is in order. Although considering it throws it down all afternoon there isn’t much dry about it. First lesson, if you pick up a stone find a home for it. We dig it out the foundation a bit first and make a flat-ish base on which to start. Soon there is a concentrated silence as we work on this rather large jigsaw. There is something very satisfying in finding the right place for each stone and seeing the wall start to emerge. At some point I ponder how the stones were originally transported here, Liam soon puts me right, we are right next to another more famous wall that is somewhat ruined. The stones didn’t travel far; they were pilfered when the Romans left.
There are some Sycamores in Tarraby wood. This is bad apparently; we don’t like Sycamores, at least not as much as some of the other trees. So today I’m getting a tree felling lesson. I don’t think I’m ready to be using a chainsaw, I definitely want a course in that one, so am helping with a bill-hook. Richard, my expert of the day, explains the finer points of tree felling and the problems of trying to do so in a wood, namely the tree wont fall but will get caught in the branches of other trees around it. We soon have the Sycamores down and I am happily chopping off the smaller branches with the bill-hook. It’s quite satisfying and I’m even allowed to yell ‘timber!’ at one point. They’ll make a lumberjack of me yet.

We are trying to take greatest advantage of the grass available to us at Wallacefield, this means moving people around quite a bit. We are taking four of the heifers to chestnut field, which is always something of a mission as they generally wont cross the stream down the bank so have to go by the road. It has to be a military planned operation and I am dispatched to just after the turn off to make sure they don’t head off toward Carlisle. After a while I can hear a commotion, three distinctive Longhorn heads peek over the hill and come trotting towards me. Where is number four? They are swiftly herded into the field and I find out what has happened, the fourth has decided to take a detour at the junction (weakest point in the journey) and has jumped the fence to make friends with a herd of young black and whites belonging to a neighbour. Chaos of course ensues. I’m told to sit tight while they try and retrieve her and send her my way, got to guard the road. Eventually after several minutes and lots of shouting the last pointy head appears on the road. I shoo her into the field with her herd mates, who she proceeds to tell the tale to. I guess I missed the excitement on this one, but I think I’m glad.
The other week we had some of the herd blood tested to see if there was a mineral deficiency that was causing Hadley not to get in calf. The results came back this week and it seems we do have a deficiency in both Selenium and Copper, Selenium deficiency can effect fertility, but any deficiency is not good and copper was way down. After a swift consultation with our vet and the Soil Association it is decided that a mineral bolus should be given to the breeding herd, we will gradually give it to them all over the next few weeks. They are the same size as the ones we gave to the sheep at Willowford a few weeks back, but cattle have considerably bigger heads so it shouldn’t be as difficult. The size of the bolus gun is ridiculous though. Im glad they will be in the horned crush when we do it. On another note Hadley hasn’t been seen bulling since we PD’ed the cattle, could it be she is in calf now?
Sometimes a bit more carrot and a lot less stick is needed. We are moving the sheep at Willowford and Bob the Leicester and his ladies are going into one of the small front fields that is a bit of a nightmare as the entrance is behind Hadrian’s wall down a little path. Luckily for us there are a couple of wily old Swaledale’s in this group, and of course Bob, who know what the rattle of a bucket means. Once in the main field I get ahead of them and rattle away, the two old bird’s ears prick up and they come wandering over, I entice them down the path and herd instinct means all the others follow. Once they are in the field I make sure they get some of the treats in the bucket, positive reinforcement, they will remember and the trick will work again.
This week’s picture is and example of modern farming, meeting in the potting shed with laptop and chainsaw…

This weekend I have been to the first of my apprenticeship seminars at Carey Organics in Herefordshire. It was a long trip but worth it. It was great to meet my fellow apprentices and see round another organic farm. The apples from Carey’s make a very nice cider and we were very happy to sample it. Aside from the socialising and wide ranging discussions on farming in the pub (always a good place to put the world to rights) we covered the living soil and organic principles, standards and conversion. Both very interesting days and sparked much debate. I look forward to a few weeks time when we all meet again.
At Willowford we have to reapply the raddle on the boys who are now out with their different groups of ewes. Magnus has been on top form and has already tupped 20-odd of his ladies; Bob and Geoff have done about 8/9 each. Magnus even jumped the wall and saw to a couple of Geoff’s ewes. Such enthusiasm for his job is very encouraging but it seems like he has slowed down now. I’m not surprised he needs a rest. The other two have some catching up to do.
There are some leaks at Willowford. There is a trough with a pipe puncture and a suspicious wet patch in one of the front fields. The trough is a fairly straight forward fix, it has a hole in anyway so we switch off the water and put in a new one. A nice flat surface is prepared with stones, it’s a little bit crazy paving but the trough doesn’t wobble when I’m done. The pipe is trimmed and reattached to the trough. After turning the water back on a disappointingly slow stream of water flows out to fill the trough, it’s going to take a while but there doesn’t look to be a leak anymore. The wet patch is another matter. It could be a field drain again or maybe a pipe between the troughs. We dig some random holes and some drainage channels to try and get a look at what is going on. It seems like we have found a spot where water is bubbling up but there is far too much water to see. Hopefully the channels will clear the water and a few dry days would be nice please…
Kevin of the Wildlife trust has come to tell us about a chicken problem, ‘one of your chickens is trying to Spatchcock itself…’ The lambing shed is full to the roof with hay and the chickens just love to get in there, poke around and lay their eggs in inappropriate places given a chance. Trouble is this one has got stuck down the side of the bales and is clucking pathetically. It was only spotted because the wall is slatted, its feathers were poking through a slat and Kevin saw it wiggling. I get a torch and crawl along the gap between roof and bales, easy for a chicken, tight squeeze for a human. When I get to it I can’t reach so have to pull out a few bales and give it a leg up. The chicken is very happy to be rescued; it lets me carry it out to its perch-mates without a fuss. Now I know it’s not injured I can have a good laugh at it.