Circle of Life.

I'm not as prolific a writer as I used to be. Sometimes this is because I'm mad busy and life gets in the way of talking about life, other times I overthink it and the moments are lost. Occasionally I know I have something momentous to impart, but by the time I've treated a lamb, fed the alpaca or checked a fence, I have forgotten I ever had a point to make. I also try to make a point of not blogging, posting or tweeting when I'm in poor spirits. Over the past few weeks this has been my excuse, I have been a little low. I'm not depressed, I know friends with depression and I'm aware that this is not me, I've just been a little low.

The weather in August was quite inconsistent and we almost lost our hay, (the positive being that we did not.) Our lambs thrived. We birthed three gorgeous cria, with more due in April, and I was determined not to be disappointed that they were all boys. We've had a bit of a spate of boys in recent years and I longed for some girls. The alpaca babies took a longer time to arrive than expected, also a consequence of the weather and I was restricted to the site, awaiting babies. It makes you a little stir-crazy. But they were happy and healthy when they arrived. Then suddenly one was not; happy or healthy. I worked hard with our vet, but the baby developed an infection, pneumonia set in and he passed away. It hit me hard.

Rest in peace little Diablo.

It's taken three weeks but I'm back on track. The farmers say 'livestock, deadstock,' it's a bit harsh but it means that if you breed livestock, you'll have times when issues occur and you won't be able to save that animal. It's life. I realise I haven't quite come to terms with that. Born in St John's Wood, I'm definitely a smallholder rather than a farmer.

My family, friends and my garden have kept my spirits high. It's hard to be down when you have special people in your life. Nature's bounty is always uplifting and it's hard to be down when the kitchen garden groans with fruit, veg and flowers for the house, dahlias scream hello in their showy way, grapes are ripening, sweet pea are filling the air with heavy scent and fat hedgehogs waddle gown the path at dusk. Life is good and I'm grateful.

Selling our range of natural fertilisers at Chelsea Flower Show and Hampton Court was fabulous this year again, thanks to Todd's Botanics and their wonderful team, of which I now count myself as a virtual member. Don't forget to order Lou's Poo Beans if you are planting spring flowering bulbs and our limited edition Christmas bags are on sale now. www.TheArchersAtTheLarches.com.

The smell of hay. A moment in time.

It was a long day yesterday but I wouldn't have swapped it for the world. With happy, healthy children and similar animals, I can't grumble. The weather has been astounding; blue skies, belting sunshine and the merest breeze just to remind one not to moan about the heat.

After the madness of the alpaca mating, [not sure I'll ever get the picture out of my head of one splendid lad mounting our fawn alpaca, huge sound effects, a thin appendage making its way to the correct spot, my girl's tail held high by the stud owner and my 9yo boy looking on with disbelief,] it was nice to return to the usual noises of the smallholding, a lost lamb calling for mum, the cockerels cock-a-doodle-dooing and our neighbour haymaking several fields away.

We three played cards in the garden, while the cats rolled in the grass and the hens enquired if we had any spare food. Later we sat with the alpaca, petting their dusty coats, we tested some almost-ripe plums and picked the sweet peas for the house. We missed dad; mad-busy in the office in a hot city.

At 8pm our haymaking neighbour brought bales of fresh hay, our winter feed for sheep and alpaca. This is the first time we've bought enough to get us through. It feels good to be ready and is a much cheaper way to buy, though it feels odd to plan for winter on such a hot balmy day.

With hubby finally home, fed and changed, we all donned gloves and began stacking the hay in a stable, one on top of the other, raised on pallets to ensure the bottom bales don't rot. The smell was so amazing, almost bread-like. It was so fresh, so alive, it's wondrous to think of this summer goodness being able to sustain our animals in the bleak months. My babies; the 11yo and the 9yo are so strong now, a small bale being no issue. They are growing up so fast and I must remember to capture more moments with them in this blog, to describe in such finite detail so that I'll be able to return to see them in later years.

Sigh.

Well, I'm off to check on the alpaca, particularly Connie who may, mysteriously, be about to drop a cria, if her rejection of the boys yesterday is anything to go by!

Love to hear from you if you get the chance to comment here. Lou x