DIARY FROM A FAMILY FARM IN ULSTER
MORROWS WORLD
DIARY FROM A FAMILY FARM IN ULSTER
ONE of my Silver Campine hens hatched out nine chicks at the beginning of the month. Eight are still alive and well and nine would have been if I had been quicker to put the chick drinker into the pen, as the ninth drowned in the trough. I watched the hen over the Christmas period sitting huddled under a heavy pine tree, snow and frost only inches away, totally focused on her role in life – to stay on those eggs, no matter the conditions around her. I was so pleased to see the result of her endeavours cheeping around her feet and equally pleased to see a rise in the temperatures.
I didnt know whether to take the chicks away and rear them under a lamp, but decided not to, out of what Im sure is a misplaced empathy with the mother hen. How on earth do I know how she would feel about losing her chicks after all the effort put into hatching them? Shes a hen and Im a human and I am quite sure it is a bad idea to expect animals to think or behave like us. However, whether it is my city rearing or simply being female, I am afraid to confess in these circles that I am guilty of doing just that on many occasions.
Last week I was helping Johnston bring a few cows in to be served and I stayed to hand him the various bits and pieces he needed. He started to complain about this wee Jersey, who according to him, was purposely "humping her back" just to make his job harder. Well, I can only say I could see her problem! I get the same sort of split emotions during calving time – which of course will be upon us in the next couple of weeks.
I understand with my head that a cow who backs herself into an awkward corner when calving makes life difficult for the farmer, but my heart wants to protest that shes doing her best and its not much fun at her end either! Best just to keep my mouth shut and slip her an extra taste of meal afterwards. Thats on the commercial side of things, but with my wee hen, I am going to let her have a go at rearing the chicks herself and just hope the nasty weather doesnt come back.
The last phase of all our building work was to take place last June, just before the farm opened to the public and that was to have the area round the house tarmacadamed. Well June came and went, as did all the summer, the autumn passed and there was still no sign of the men after Christmas. Johnston had been ringing on a regular basis, but to be honest we had really lost interest in the job and had got quite used to the various bumps and holes in the drive. I was able to manoeuvre down the broken path to the freezer shed reasonably safely – even in the dark and so we had quite given up the idea of it ever being finished.
Indeed we decided to upgrade our plan of a half-term holiday in the Canary Islands to a week in Florida for the whole family with the money saved. I spent the first couple of weeks of this month searching the internet and teletext to get the best deals for flights and accommodation, got it all sorted, booked and paid for last Monday, then on Tuesday the contractors rang and on Wednesday they started work! So now we have a holiday of a lifetime to look forward to and a driveway fit for a palace. Who can complain about that – except perhaps the bank manager!