Showing posts with label Bottle feeding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bottle feeding. Show all posts

Tuesday, 3 July 2012

Save them for later....



It's great to have big, fat strawberries in summer, the taste of them fresh picked is pure summer (regardless of the weather) but it's even better to taste them mid winter, similarly baby broad beans and raspberries too.

Of course strawberries are not the same plump, robust fruits when they have been frozen, I'm not daft! But if you've tray-frozen them and they are loose in a bag (hulled and cleaned of course) there's nothing better than using them frozen in a milkshake or in a daiquiri. The same goes for raspberries who are best used frozen for a fabulous, tart Eton Mess.

Broad beans, picked very young are perfect candidates for tray freezing - no blanching required. Gorgeous.

I've been looking for an upside regarding the lack of sun and I feel I have found a tiny glimmer; (for me only probably,) it is that the crap moisture rich weather will allow me to grow broad beans for-ev-er! Fab news for the sproglets and me - possibly not for my hubby who's not a fan.

*

Queenie, positively the last lamb, is growing day by day. She spent the whole day with Pink (the lamb) today and I ignored her cries in the drizzling rain. She's still on a bottle four or five times a day (...as am I) but she has just ten more days of that comfort before she's on pellets and grass only.

Much as I love her, I will not miss the feeds.


Friday, 18 May 2012

Electrocution at The Larches


There can be nothing more stimulating than a bit of electrocution first thing in the morning.

As many of you long-suffering readers of the blog will know, I’m not that good at electric fences. See here I forget their strength and hold on to the wire to pull on a wellington or else I forget to turn the darn thing off before moving it. It’s sad really.

Seems I take after my dad:

Mum and Dad came to stay last week. Mum’s the under-gardener, no weed is left undisturbed and the walled garden is now looking stunning. Dad’s is Vice President of Tea Making.

One morning, with the sproglets at school, the under-gardener, the tea maker and I, (recently promoted from both these positions to Chief Painter and Decorator,) decided to take a stroll down Home Field to peruse my allotment and dig up a few leeks.

Dad had a bad foot and was a tadge wobbly. He decided, rather than struggle down the uneven part of the field, he’d step over the electric fence erected by our neighbour whose ewes and lambs are kindly lawn mowing. He wanted to stroll down the middle section of the field.

I wasn’t worried; Dad knew what he was doing. However, half an hour later returning to the house and Pa looked a little wearier. He went for the old electric wire step-over move but misjudged it and, while laughing, (which didn’t help,) did one of those backwards kicks the snazzy footballers do... Very impressive.

He was determined to be down only briefly and almost as soon as his body touched the grass, he was getting up again. Not bad for a man of.... mumble, mumble.... and all was going smoothly till he used the wire as leverage. Bless. Mind you, he stood up quick.

Divine Justice has had her revenge of course, I shouldn’t have giggled so:

This morning, I escorted our three lambs from their overnight accommodation at the stables to their electrified paddock. Being an inexperienced farmer I can’t seem to work out how to convince my lambs, (getting heavier by the day,) to go over or under the ‘lekky fence even when it’s turned off. Instead I take them down on their harnesses and lift them up and over the wire... This really doesn’t feel like a long term plan, especially as Snowy must weigh a good 2.5 stone now. Hey-ho!

Anyhoo, this morning while doing this manoeuvre I managed to touch a knee off the wire and 'WOW! I still feel zingy now. Like father, like daughter I s'pose.

‘No, no coffee for me today thanks, I’m wired!’

The Archers at The Larches

Lou - Chicken whisperer....

Lou - Chicken whisperer....

Snowy and Moon

Snowy and Moon