It’s tough at the farm at the moment. Some would say we are currently experiencing being victims of our own success.
You see, we really wanted our children to love the farm and, I am sure if you follow my social media feeds, you will see that they actually do. It is something natural in them and we are very lucky.
The two boys especially live and breath farming. One loves animals the most and one adores tractors. While I am of the opinion that our work here is done, the farmer has been increasingly worried about safety.
Farm safety is a real worry. With the sheer size of tractors and other farm machinery, it is impossible to see little people who are so near to the floor. While all of our children possess some fear at the machinery and tend to run to me, they are still drawn to it and, if it is stationary, they quite often run and try to get on it.
Most farmers leave keys in the farm vehicles but we have had to rethink this method as quite often little hands have been found precariously near the ignition.
While they play with their toy tractors, the real things are not toys and can be lethal but it is so hard to get this point across to tractor-mad little boys who just want to be like daddy.
A large fence had been installed around the garden to prevent escape routes which have occurred before but, as I explained to the farmer, we can provide a million toy tractors in the garden but none will be as exciting as the real thing and the excitement of the real farm.
It is not just a simple case of going out there with me. I never leave them alone on the farm yard due to cars and other machinery being driven but the youngest has a habit of running and, despite his little legs, he can be out of site within seconds. One minute I am feeding a lamb and the boys are in the lamb bed with me. The next, the baby has legged it and is clambering on a quad bike.
A series of gates and pens has helped but they both climb and it won’t keep them in for long.
So tears are what we are living with because, let’s face it, the hot angry tears of a two year old is better to bare than the tears because one of our children has been run over.
We may have succeeded in the farming gene but the common sense gene is still work in progress.
I would usually say send wine but in this instant, I’d say send farm toys.