Farm Life, October 2019


It’s funny, each month as I start to think about what has happened to write my regular Farm Life piece, I always think nothing has happened. This month was no different.

It has been dominated by one word though.

Mud.

There has been a lot of rain and it has turned most of the fields to mud. We don’t live in a dry part of the world as it is but our soil is very clay and this makes the ground even muddier.


Only the day after last month’s post was published, Cupcake gave birth to her kid, another little girl which we have named Pickle. You can read all about the birth and the pickle she got herself in here.

The farmer has been to two sheep sales and bought in new ewes. Some will be put to ram in a few weeks, we may leave some until next year, depending on their size come November 5th. I wish we could have all gone but the two year old is going through a ‘running off’ stage so I knew the farmer wouldn’t be able to concentrate on buying with us hanging around.


We took six lambs to the abattoir. Three for the mother-in-law and three for us so there is little else in the freezer at the moment other than lamb and, with the older two at school, we had a little helper bagging it up and taking it to the chest freezer.

The hens and my Ryeland are plodding in the front field but the mud is problematic for their feet and you can tell the days the sun has shone by the amount of eggs laid that day.


The donkeys are in because of there mud which I know they are not happy about but I try and make myself feel better by thinking they would be more miserable up to their knees in mud. Unfortunately, I cannot express this sentiment to them.

We bought another new ram off a friend which I told the farmer was another Romney ram but, on arrival, it turned out to be a South Down ram because I am unable to listen. We still bought him though and, even though he is a little on the wild side, he is very cute.

In the last month, the wet field conditions along with the ‘grass is always greener’ mentality of my hens means they are now at large around the farm. They turn up everywhere and it is very funny. The run excitedly to me and the boys try to chase them back to the field but end up just running around the yard chasing each other.

My ban on poultry buying was relaxed slightly when one of our livery ladies messaged from a horse and tack sale saying they were selling hens and did I want any. As I didn’t physically buy the creatures myself, I took this to being ok and two Polish lovelies arrived. One can fly as high as a bird. The other has something amiss from its brain-she reminds me of Hei Hei from Moana but they are beautiful and keeping home in the shippen with Diamond and Diana who already live there.

Chester the South Down ram was taken to a pen in the front field to live with Shaun the Ryeland ram. I feel slightly sorry for them actually because they can see the ewes but can’t get to them and I have seen my older two Ryelands wiggling their bottoms at the rams from afar. Aren’t they teases? Don’t worry, the boys will have their way soon enough.

I went on a felting course which, I suppose you won’t seem comes under farm life but it does because of the wool used to do it and it has got me so excited about ideas and possibilities and almost too excited to shear again next year-but it does seem like a long way off until then.

Until then I will practice.

So until next month. By then, the rams will be making sweet love and it will have been my birthday (it’s a birthday ending in a zero) so I have high hopes for an animal gift off the ever suffering farmer. Keep EVERYTHING crossed.

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