MY 21st seemed to go down well. Some of the lads from college must have turned on the charm when talking to my mum, she keeps mentioning how “lovely” they all were and how she doesn’t believe any of the stories I have told about them.

My mate, “Direct”, had five beef sandwiches and “Keg” ended up particularly the worse for wear. Don”t ask! A good night was hopefully had by all.

Timetables have changed after semester break, so now we get some new modules and at least one day off a week, unlike before.

I really don’t know what half of us will do when we leave college and get a full time “proper” job this summer. “Don’t we get a rest in February?” we’ll be asking, or “What do you mean I don’t get 20 weeks holiday?”

Another batch of cakes arrived at college the other week from the Blue Bell Tea Room at Kilnsea near Spurn Point, courtesy of Ruth who is on the degree course and whose mum runs it.

Some of us on the receiving end of this stream of tasty delights are secretly hoping that if the canteen contract at college comes up for renewal, Ruth’s mum is going to bid for it. Before that, though, I think a visit to the above mentioned tearoom is in order.

A recent beef conference at college was well attended, with Sir Donald Curry and Lord Haskins chairing the event. The best speaker for me was a farmer and processor from Nebraska in the USA. I couldn’t believe the scale of things over there. His co-operative of five farmers finished about 90,000 head of cattle a year and were regarded as small. He said there were four companies in Nebraska alone which finished more than 1m cattle a year each. Serious numbers indeed.

We had an Australia Night at college, so I went as a Crocodile Dundee-type person. I realised that when I set off in my shorts, vest, boots and stupid bush hat that I actually wear such clothes in summertime for working in. So this worrying realisation was either a sign that I look stupid in summer (highly likely) or that I should emigrate to Australia (not just yet.)

Anyway, in the meantime the scanner man came to the farm I work on to scan the ewes for lambing. They scanned better than last year, and it will be soon that time of year again for full-time milk delivering and lambing duty.

Also, the chime of distant wedding bells is in the air as my sister, Sarah, is now engaged. I think my dad keeps having cold sweats at the prospect, and the occasion is booked for August next year.

It sounds a long way off to me, but the planning conversations have begun. I’m half tempted to move away and just come back for the actual day to avoid all the bedlam! Does anyone possibly have the telephone number for Australian immigrations, after all?