Showing posts with label Farming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Farming. Show all posts

Sunday, 4 August 2013

Rock and a hard place....









Yesterday we grafted. We mended fences, contained lambs and sheep. Emptied an old field shelter of its floor boarding and sheep droppings, lined it with straw and set down some equestrian matting. At the back of the shelter Hubby put up a grid system with various heights to hang the heavy feeding troughs for the alpaca. All this work is prep for winter; a place where the alpaca family can shelter if the weather turns really bad. By all accounts, alpaca would rarely be taken into a stable, always preferring to be out in the elements so the field shelter is a half-way house.

We praised our morning's work over a lunch of tuna and olive bread followed by juicy peaches but it was soon time to see what other jobs needed doing.

I deigned we should move a hefty mountain of Shropshire stone that was sat in the alpaca field, fearing the ladies might hurt their legs on it. Hubby suggested I might actually be 'inventing' work and went off to find a real job while the sproglets and I began to fill the trailer with the cumbersome pieces. Close to the end of this real job I managed to put one heavy stone down, dislodging another. The second stone then rolled onto my ring finger. The pain under my nail is now amazing. I presume I'll have one of those revolting blood blisters, though as yet there is no sign thanks to my Barbie pink nail varnish! (Well, it is summer!)

One thing we have learnt over our past 4 years here is that gates need to be shut. Yesterday we managed to add to our workload by forgetting this. As Hubby and daughter drove Dizzy Discovery down to a lower paddock, they passed through our largest field housing more than 100 borrowed lawnmowers. Unfortunately they left the gate open. The ewes and lambs figured this was surely an invitation to follow and duly poured through the gate. I was in the alpaca field which has free access to this lower field and, fearful that these sheep might stampede Shadow, our baby cria, I ran like Mo Farah to close the gate. The 10yo had the same thought and we met at the gate, heading the sheep off just in time. Phew!

That, it seems was the easy bit. We then spent the next 20 minutes dashing about like sheep dogs, trying to drive the flock back to their big field. Hilariously, once we had completed this task we realised that our cade lambs were among the throng. In truth this didn't really matter, they could easily graze together but the 10yo called their names and from a sea of faces Coco, Bino and Oreo appeared. They happily followed us back to their patch where their was less competition for grass.

If I look back at our move to The Larches on the 28th August 2009, I had no real expectation for learning and yet in 4 years we have learnt so much. When we arrived at The Larches with a 6yo and a 4yo, we'd never even owned a pet as a family, had only gardened on a micro scale and had no clue how to mend a gate or fence. Look at us now, we've moved from unconscious incompetence to conscious incompetence.

On the 28th of this month will will have completed our 4th year at The Larches. If it wasn't for our lovely neighbours we'd still be in the dark ages regarding sheep, land and horticulture. Bless them for being patient with us and bring it on year 5!




Tuesday, 3 August 2010

The Farmers at The Larches

Busy? You betya!

Since last we spoke The Archers have been playing at being farmers. There's the daily harvest from the walled garden, the burping of the Elderflower Champagne in the cellar. There's cleaning chickens, collecting eggs. The daily push back at mother nature is becoming an hourly task as I strip weeds from vulnerable sweet peppers and physically remove caterpillars the size of an infant's arm, from the cabbage. [Note to self: cover the cabbages next year!]

Tabby, our most jock-like cat, is very helpful on the cabbage front; by hiding under the plants, he finds he can stop the process at source by eating as many butterflies as he can catch, - 'bout 9 a day, we reckon.

Benny, our James Bond-like cat, has been slightly lack-lustre for a couple of days. A less compliant prey appears to have caught him on the face with a claw or tooth, this caused an abscess and a fierce temperature. I am chucking tablets down his neck morning and evening from the vet and already he's vastly improved.

To ensure a plentiful winter I'm cooking and freezing vast quantities of ratatouille at the moment. (My recipe, so the kids are calling it Rata-mamma - Good name!)

The plums are a week away from ripe, the blackberries any day now and I'm sure I saw some sloes down the field - vodka-everything here we come.....

The other day we ate a plate of food with food miles of almost zero; local pork chops with my garlic, our potatoes with local butter and our chives, our apple sauce and our Rata-mamma. For pudding there was cherry pie, (thanks to a donation of local cherries by a farmer.) Quite special really.... Hugh Fearnley-Wotsit would be so proud...


***

We three, the sproglets and I, went to a friend's house at the beach for a couple of days. 4 mums and 8 children was really fun, I kid you not. The beach on the welsh coast was beautiful, 100 miles away on tiny winding roads, it was originally a little fishing village. The sandy protected bay was great for the babes who ran in and out of the sea all day long. The only bad part was that I erased all my photos from my memory card.... I'm very cross with myself. Hubby thinks he may have a magical programme to reinstate them - we'll see.

***

As I write, a tractor is tractoring (what is the correct verb I wonder?) up and down Home field outside my window, it is turning the golden hay. I can't believe that we arrived to The Larches only last year - the 28th August. Funny really, as it seems like we've been here forever and I wouldn't change a thing.

The Archers at The Larches

Lou - Chicken whisperer....

Lou - Chicken whisperer....

Snowy and Moon

Snowy and Moon