Time Flies

I hadn't realised how long it was since I had added to my blog until I sat down and struggled to remember the password.  Once in, I then looked and could see my last blog sitting there, dated March 2012.  So - there is a lot to catch up on.  Lambing, piglet-ing, kidding and hatching ducks (I thought duckling-ing was pushing it too far) and that is just the births.  There have also been deaths - but not very many but, not surprisingly, no marriages.  But all of this has been covered in the News section of the website.
The main problem this year seems to have been space.  In the past, every year we have bred Kune Kune piglets and every year there has been a waiting list.  But last year was a disaster - nobody wanted to buy them.  Given that we always sell them as pets - partly because they are such characters and partly because they are so slow growing it is not commercially viable to feed them until they are big enough to eat, because it takes too long.  I am sure it is a sign of the economic times we live in that people are cutting back on the non-essentials and pets certainly fit into that category.  And so we find ourselves with rather a lot of young pigs needing space.  This would be a little challenging in a normal year but this is not a normal year.  This is the year Farmer Neil decided to re-form all the pig pens - mainly because the fencing was in such bad shape.  So the area that previously would have housed eight pig arcs and paddocks is now one big mass - no fences, no arcs just cordoned off from the public.  It is also the year that started with the driest winter on record and seems to be moving into the wettest summer.  So for months Neil was not able to get the old posts out of the ground or the new fencing posts in.  Although things have moved on a little since then - it has not been in a good way.  We are now struggling to keep the grass down in the areas where visitors can walk because on the days when it is not raining, the grass is often still too soggy to mow and strimming when mowing becomes impossible.  Tied up with vegetation control, Neil has had no time to get on with re-fencing.
So with lots of piglets and no paddocks Neil had to start getting creative.  First he moved a number of the piglets into goat paddocks - which was an inspired decision.  The pigs had so much to eat (as goats are, despite their reputation, picky eaters) and a wilderness to explore.  The goats, on the other hand, were re-shuffled and met up with goats they hadn't seen for years (as they lived on a different part of the farm) or, in the case of Peter the Golden Guernsey, learnt how to live with sheep.  Which also worked well - perhaps the fact that they are French sheep helped - as he was half-way there.
But there were still a number of piglets that needed housing.  So Neil came up with the not so inspired idea of putting them on the lawn.  At times the lawn has housed a small group of sheep, a convalescent ram or a single goat awaiting collection.  But none of these occupants could have prepared us for the devastating effect that 7 piglets, who have not yet settled down into their "grazing pig" trait, could create.     
I am not going to pretend the lawn was ever suitable for bowls but it was fairly smooth - just the odd mole hill.  Now it is like a war zone.  The area under the trampoline is particularly bad.  It is like the whole lot has just been rotavated.  And of course,  after rotavating you would expect to roll the ground and then lay it with turf. But something tells me that that isn't going to happen for a while.  Perhaps after the fencing has been finished!

Fingers crossed

It is raining and has been for much of the day.  I know we need it but I can't help thinking - why Sunday?  Why does it have to rain at the weekend when it could rain during the week and most people would be at work and hardly notice.
When it is so damp outside the temptation is to stay indoors.  But I was getting a bit stir crazy so I have just spent the last half an hour in the lambing tunnel, sitting amongst the lambs (it is one of the perks of the job). They are getting very naughty now.  As they get bigger, they get more confident and with confidence comes the desire to push the boundaries.  So whereas I used to be able to sit in the middle of the pen and only a few brave lambs would venture over to sniff me, chew my sleeve or try to nuzzle into my pocket - now they all try it.  And their antics begin almost as soon as I sit down.  Some lambs start to climb up my back, some to chew my hair (well, it does look a bit straw-like), while others jump across me, as if I am just a continuation of the straw bale.
So far these lambs have spent their whole life in the lambing tunnel - they don't know about the world outside, the cold winds, the rain and the grass.  But by the end of the week they will be out on the field, in a very different world. And for a few days they will be shell-shocked.  When we open the tunnel gates their mothers, who have been locked up for the last 6 weeks will make a dash for it.  Given the opportunity they will run as fast as they can.  Despite their colossal size and their huge udders, they will sprint along the track, towards the field.  Some will stop at the first sign of succulent-looking grass, others will just keep their eye on the horizon.  None of them will even think of their lambs until they reach the end of the track and the closed gate.  Meanwhile the lambs will remain, now traumatized, in the tunnel.  The stampede over, the door to the big wide world open, the lambs will be in a state of shock.  Their world has suddenly been turned upside down, their confidence vanished they try to hide in corners or stand their ground, bleating for their mum.  Then, little by little, one or two will go through the gate, a couple more will follow and before long a group of them will be on the track, trying out the grass and weeds.
Meanwhile, having munched their way through some of the tenderest shoots they could find and realizing they can't get to the field as the gate is closed, their mums will suddenly remember their babies. They will start bleating and retracing their steps, and before long, the whole lot will be bleating and looking around for their off-spring.  Then one will lead the stampede back down the track towards the tunnel and before long, mothers and lambs will meet, pair up and let themselves be led to the field.
It follows the same pattern each year but I never tire of watching it.  But as I sat in the tunnel this afternoon I found myself looking at these healthy young lambs and thinking how lucky we had been to have been spared the Schmallenberg virus, the latest disease to hit sheep and other farming livestock.  I crossed my fingers and hoped that the ewes that will be coming into the tunnel at the end of the week, ready for Easter lambing, will be as lucky.

Warming Up

David Millward's photo - thanks David

Warming up

In the weeks leading up to closing for the winter many of our visitors wish us well for our holiday.  Leaving the shop they will say something like "Enjoy your break - you deserve it" or "Bet you are looking forward to putting your feet up for a while".  Usually we smile and agree - but just sometimes we find ourselves saying - We are closing to the public, not having a holiday!.  But when we say that, it is usually because the weight of the workload ahead of us is praying on our minds.  Because closing to the public is just that .  Everything else on the farm carries on, all the animals still need to be fed, cleaned and cared for and all the jobs that we can't do when the public are there each day, can now be started.

We start the 3 month "downtime" with a plan.  This could be called the Preposterous Plan.  It lists everything we want to do but it takes no account of the fact that:

there are only 3 of us to implement it;

only 3 months to complete it;

downtime is the start of winter and the weather will make many jobs impossible.

Oh, and then there is Christmas right in the middle - with a magic combination of all the family descending on the farm to be fed and watered and all the farm helpers staying at home with their faimilies.

Sometimes, if the weather has been kind, one month into the plan will still make everything seem possible.  We will have made good progress with preparing the ground for new fencing, laying down a new foot path, demolishing an old field shelter but then the snows will arrive or one of us will get (and pass on) a virus. Something always happens to throw the plans off course.

So, like most people, we end up working really long hours for the few weeks just before we open.  By this stage we are working hard not because we are trying to finish off the list but because we are trying to get the farm in an orderly way, from the havoc created by starting item 1 or 2 in the list (items 3 to 20 never got a look-in).

And so it was this year.  

Close to the top of the list was to re-work the shop toilets and replace the pig fencing.

The toilet facilities have been unsatisfactory for a while - as there were three urinals and one toilet for the men and only one toilet for women/disabled and nappy changers to share.

So we arranged to have all the area re-designed and agreed with the plumber and builder that they would be out by the end of January.  Unfortunately - like most building works - this over ran and although most of the job was completed and cleared away by the 4th February, the final touches were finished on the 10th - less than 24 hours before we were due to open.

With most of the builder's rubble out of the way on the 4th, I started cleaning the shop, painting the toilets and shop and getting the shelves cleaned and the stock put out.  Brick and plaster dust are always a nightmare to clean up and the shop took much longer than I had hoped.

A large part of Friday was spent baking, with the remainder being finished on Saturday morning.  But by  Saturday morning it was clear that the drop in temperature overnight had led to all the water systems in the shop to freeze over. I finished the remainder work in the house, while everyone else tried to get the pipes defrosted.

In the end, it took all day to get the water moving.  Without any water for people to wash their hands we were unable to open  to the public. It was so disappointing and strangely ironic.  To have put so much effort in to getting the toilets finished - it was then not possible to use them because the water was frozen.

As for the pig fencing, I can still see the stack of fencing posts in the disabled parking bay.  They were delivered just before the temperatures dropped and the snows arrived.  We could no longer see where the posts were due to go, let alone make holes in the frozen soil.

So all in all, an inauspicious start to the year..... Things can only get better.  

3rd February - we must be nearly there - surely?!

It is the same every year.  We close at the end of October and it seems like we have all the time in the world to put in hand the maintenance jobs that aren't possible when the farm is open to the public.  November slips by, some progress is made and we all feel quietly confident that everything is possible.  Then December whizzes by- a blur of cooking, eating, shopping and entertaining. On to the New Year.
January arrives, slaps us round the face and demands to know how it is possible to finish all the jobs we have started before we open our doors mid February.
By early February and the birth of the first lamb, the full horror of the situation is all too apparent.  We have a week left and about 1000 hours of work to complete.  Yet again, we have taken on way too many jobs, assumed there would be no hitches and forgot to factor in that we are only a small team.
By the time we open, on the 11th February, some things will have to be sorted.  The lambing pens are ready and our first twins are happily leaping around the pen. There will be more.
The posts for the new pig pens are still in the disabled parking lot.  Yesterday's efforts to start driving them into the soil failed as the ground is now frozen rock solid.
As I write, the builders who have been changing the toilet arrangements in the shop (who promised me they would be finished by last Friday) are still very much here.  My efforts to clean and prepare the kitchen yesterday were thwarted by the fact that the plumber still hasn't finished the pipe work and therefore there is no water.
On the positive side, once we start lambing we have to check on the lambs round the clock. As I got up this morning to do the 3am check, I began thinking that it would be a good idea not to go back to bed, but to head to the shop and start painting. But the thought of my nice warm bed was too great.  I went back to bed and worried instead.  At this rate, this time next week, we won't even be going to bed.