I always joke that ridiculous things happen to me. Sometimes they wouldn’t take up enough words to write a whole blog post. Sometimes they are not interesting enough.
I also joke that the farmer won’t let me drive the trailer because he worries what I would come back with. The truth however is that until I find out/remember when I passed my driving test, I won’t be able to drive one anyway.
Apparently, if you passed your driving test before January 1997, you can drive a trailer. If you passed after that, you need a trailer licence. I was 17 in October 1996 so I may well have passed before then but it was a long time ago and I never seem to find the time to get my driving license in front of the computer to check.
The lack of trailer means I only usually get small animals and poultry-things that will fit in my car. When we went getting Stud Muffin the Billy goat, he travelled in the boot of my car so I felt as if a whole new world had open up to me.
I saw an advert for a nanny goat. It was of dubious breeding (I should have known then) but it was cheap (again, a warning sign) and I thought, with Muffin still here, I might get one more goat baby.
So off I went with my two little farmers in tow and we travelled across the county to a run down field with a few sheds in it.
I rang the person and two rough looking men came down to open the gates. I’m not going to lie, I was a bit worried at this point.
He looked at my car and said that the goat was not going to fit in the boot.
He took us to see the goat and it was indeed the size of a small cow so then he tried to sell me another goat. In this other pen, one was on the floor having some sort of seizure and at that point I decided to meekly ask if he would mind if I left with no goat.
He huffed about having other stuff to do so I bundled the boys back in the car and left that place as quickly as I could.
I told the farmer when I got home (Forgiveness is Easier to Seek than Permission) and I got told off for taking the boys somewhere that could be dangerous. I actually agree with him on this and I have learnt my lesson.
Next up, I had to have a move round of poultry since buying some ducklings and three fancy chicks which were not on my shopping list but that I couldn’t resist.
I had five older chicks in my usual chick place so I moved a coop into the chicken field and deposited the chicks in there.
It was a busy day and I knew I should go and check them. I even looked over the fence at one point and thought it looked like some bigger hens were in the run but I laughed to myself that it was impossible and carried on with what I was doing.
The farmer went to collect the eggs for me and I asked him to check the chicks. He came back saying there were five hens in the run and he hadn’t looked for the chicks.
I couldn’t’t believe it. I went over to investigate and the chicks were in the covered bit of the house with the door closed and the large hens had somehow got in the run.
The children hadn’t been in the field all day so I have no idea how it happened but it was hilarious-especially when I let the adult hens out of the run and they flapped about for ages complaining about their cramped environment.
To make matters worse, Shaun the new ram and the rest of the pet lambs decided to come and see what all the fuss was about and totally surrounded the little coop.
The final ridiculous thing to happen was regarding one of the children’s shoes. You’d think this time of year would mean dry shoes. Not here.
This lot would find a puddle in a desert so it is a constant cycle of drying out shoes and wellies. Every. Day.
I’d left a pair of shoes outside the back door to dry out and as I picked one up to put on the child, I saw it. Cat poo.
The thing that got me more annoyed is both boys have much smaller feet (for now) than everyone else in the family so the effort that Rocher must have gone through to crouch and aim into the shoe must have been immense.
I have no idea what I did to wrong her but I am convinced the deed was aimed at me. Maybe I bought a different brand of cat food or something.
These three things happened in one week. Not every week is so eventful but this one was. I may add about the shoe disinfectant to my list of uses for Zoflora on the farm.
Haha oh dear, the cat poo!! I do love your stories of farm life, it would be dull if everything went to plan!