News
Always makes me feel sad
Last night one of our ewes had triplets. Triplets are a mixed blessing. As sheep only have two quarters (teats) they are not good at coping with triplets or quads so whenever they have a multiple birth you end up feeling mixed emotions - pleased they are so productive and the lambs are so sweet but recognition that this is going to mean extra work 3 or 4 times a day bottle feeding the weakest of the bunch.
Anyway last night's ewe is a Norfolk Horn sheep and they are my favourite (well- apart from Ouessants - and you can't help falling for those because they are so small, cuddly and are prepared to do the most undignified things to get a piece of bread). I love Norfolk lambs because their legs always seem too long and they are hugely inquisitive. In the evening, when everyone else has gone home or is watching TV, I like to sit on a bale of hay in the lambing tunnel and wait. It is always the Norfolks who come up first - sticking their nose into my pocket, in my face or trying to climb up my back. And then, because they have frightened themselves by their own audacity, they gambol away on these long, fragile looking legs - running, leaping and kicking in mid air.
So I found it particularly sad that it was a Norfolk lamb that died. From the moment she was born the middle triplet just didn't seem right. She didn't react in a normal way or start doing the things that lambs normally do. In fact, she never made it to her feet - just lay on her side pawing the air. We checked her (and tubed her - which is a way of making sure she got all the nutrients she needed from her mother's first milk) and could find nothing physically wrong but clearly their was something, presumably internally, wrong with her. By lunch time she died. Her mum had two other lambs to take care of and therefore seems not to have noticed the loss.
But I know she has gone and I hate it when we lose a lamb. It seems such a waste.
It's as if I planned it
For the last 3 years we have had a regular visitor from the States. Her name is Gale. She comes at different times of the year and rents the annex to the farm house. On her first visit she fell in love with (everything and) Minette - a pretty Ouessant ewe. Gale now sponsors Minette and during the year we keep her posted on what she is up to (flirting with the rams, escaping, eating too much bread - that sort of thing). As we were getting closer to lambing time Gale asked if the annex was free because she wanted to come and see some lambing and help out. I explained lambing took place in February and Easter and Minette's lamb was not due til Easter. But the way things turned out Gale decided to come for the February lambing and arrived on Saturday. For a few weeks before she kept emailing me to make sure that all the ewes had not had their lambs. And I agreed to do what I could to ensure she was not only here when some of the lambs were born, but was actually in the tunnel, in a front row seat. Of course, this kind of promise is reckless. Everyone knows it is impossible to get animals to do what you want them to do, even when it is in their control. But agreeing to make sure Gale was there for lambing was just taking this one step beyond that.
It is difficult to know who was more delighted when, last night at 10:30 (5 hours after Gale arrived), one of the ewes started to lamb. We called Gale. She was the mid-wife's attendant til just short of midnight. Two ewe lambs were born. She saw it all, helped as necessary and, I believe, went to bed very very happy. Of course I stage managed the whole event - how could anyone suggest otherwise? 19 Feb 2012
Every now and again
Sometimes, as I welcome people to the farm and tell them what they are likely to see, a parent will say - oh no, I have forgotten the camera. It happens less and less - as more people have phones with cameras but it does still happen. In fact it happened yesterday. Two little girls came in, excited at the prospect of holding a lamb, but no camera to record the moment. I offered to help. Lovely to see them enjoying themselves.
Feeling like a Fraud
It feels a little strange to be closed today. But it is a Monday - and before we had our brochures printed, our signs made up etc we all agreed that our strategy for the year would be to close one day a week and that Monday was the best day for this. So there we are. Of course, what we didn't know when we made that decision was that we wouldn't be open for business on our opening day (Saturday - see below). So here we are, we have been open one day and we get the next day off.
Normally at this stage I would be baking scones, kneeding dough, icing a cake and generally running around in circles. So actually, sitting here typing and watching my bird feeder - aflutter with so many different types of birds - I could get used to this "one day on, one day off" work schedule. 13 Feb 2012
Business as usual
After yesterday's disappointment - happy to say we are now back in business. The team spent all yesterday with hairdryers, hot water bottles, heaters and anything else we could lay our hands on to thaw the pipes around the shop. But it was only just after 4pm when we finally had water flowing. It was not surprising it took so much effort - once frozen the weather was against us. By midday it was still registering -3C outside the shop.
So once clear, we wrapped all the pipework in duvets, blankets and anything else we could lay our hands on (the pipes in the tunnel have got last year's fleeces from the shearing day stacked up against them). And this morning there was only one place where the pipe had frozen. This was easily cleared and we are now ready and waiting.
Kate and our team of volunteers yesterday were great - they battled through the icy weather to feed the pigs, keep the animal waters free of ice and still managed to clean the pig, chicken and goat houses. What a team!.
So wherever you are - if you feel like checking up on your favourite animals, cuddling a lamb or just dropping in for a cream tea - we look forward to seeing you soon. 12 Feb 2012
Disaster
11th February. Everything ready to go - cakes all baked, lambs in the tunnel but no water. Legally we can't open if there is nowhere to wash your hands (and no toilets). So we will have to stay closed til we have it fixed. So Disappointed! 11 Feb 2012
In the Bleak Mid Winter
Talking to my friends in various parts of Europe and even other parts of the UK, I realise we have been let off very lightly with the snow. We had about 15cms on Saturday night and nothing since. The temperatures are still low, so very little of it has melted and, on the whole, it looks very beautiful. It is also luminiscent - so when I go to check on the ewes at 3am or even 6am there is no need for a torch, because the snow reflects back even the small amount of light in the night sky.
But in the lambing tunnel is a different matter. It is dark and I never know whether to turn on the overhead lights so I can get a good look at the ewes or to shine a torch on them. The dliemma is whether to risk blinding the odd one that gets in the way of the beam from the torch or wake up the whole lot by turning on the fluorescent tubes. In the end I normally bounce the torch light off the roof and try to see everything I need to by reflected torch light. It is only if anything looks suspicious that means I have to then make the decision on overhead lighting.
So what is suspicious in the field of furtive lambing?
Well - like most creatures (humans included) sheep usually stop eating when they are giving birth. So often, one of the first signs of lambing is that a ewe that is no longer cudding (chewing the cud - ie the food that they have swallowed and regurgitated for a second chewing (I know - it sounds gross, but they all do it)). They might also start making a nest. Not the kind you would find in a tree but an area of straw that they have pawed into shape. And then there is an expresssion they pull - often accompanied by grinding their teeth - that lets you know they are are in labour. So these are the things that could be happening at the front end - you then have to look at the rear. Usually, there will be a trail of mucuous and this might hang around for a few hours before anything else happens. But sometimes the first thing you will see is a lambs leg sticking out. At this stage the light goes on.
Whatever the signs (unless the lamb is literally falling out) - the next thing I have to do is get the ewe into her own pen. This is important because if she needs help and you climb into the pen to help all her mates get stressed and start to run around, causing a careless stampede (imagine someone having a baby in the middle of London train station, in rush hour and you can imagine the difficulties). This makes it a very unsafe area to deliver a new born lamb. We once did find a lamb that had obviously been trodden on.
Once penned the ewe has the best chance of delivering the lamb, in her own time, in safety. If everything goes well, labour is not normally long and the ewe will push out one or two lambs in quick succession (but sometimes 3 or 4). We stick around and make sure this is what happens and that each of the lambs start to breathe as soon as they are out. Often this means cleaning them up, rubbing them and making sure they can get air in their lungs. If they are OK, they have their navel sprayed with an antisceptic, to make sure they don't get an infection and are given back to the ewe. Their mum needs to be checked to make sure she has milk in both quarters and that the lamb feeds as soon as possible. The lamb gains its immunity from the antibodies in the ewes first milk, the colostrum. Then you can leave them together to bond. The poor lamb also has to get over the shock of being born into a snow filled world, in the middle of the night.
After a quick check to make sure none of the other mums have started lambing, I can then turn off the light, tramp through the snow back to the house and head back to bed.
The End of an Era
When I first came to the farm eight years ago or so, I was a townie - I lived in London and my experience of farms and farming was limited. But from my first visit to the farm I was captivated - this clearly wasn't a farm like any other.
On arriving, I went past a paddock of "old gentleman" (rams who had finished their working life and were now serving out their retirement- munching grass, doing a little head-butting). I then met Mouse, a brain damaged Herdwick sheep, who hated being locked in a field and was allowed to wander around wherever she fancied. And then there was Small, the Kune Kune pig who had been born with a cleft palette. Unable to eat normally, she had to be hand fed twice a day, with warm bottled milk, handfuls of pig pellets and slices of banana. She was called Small because to begin with she was - she couldn't eat like her brothers and sisters and therefore didn't grow quickly. But by the time I met her she wasn't small at all- she was the same size as her sister, Portia. Year in year out - being hand fed had served her well and she had defied all the veterinary advice suggesting she wouldn't reach maturity.
I came to stay at the farm quite often and it wasn't long before I was allowed to feed her. This was like an initiation. Small was a slobbery pig because of her cleft palette and no one told me that after she had her bottle of milk she liked to wipe her mouth on the back of your trouser leg. She got me the first time, but after that I was wise to the manoeuver and would make sure I always kept in front.
I now live here and over the years most of the old gentlemen have passed away, Mouse went missing four years ago but there was still Small. And then, last night, Small passed away. She had gone off her food the day before and we thought she might have a respiratory problem. This had happened in the past, when she guzzled her milk too quickly or breathed in some straw dust. But following a course of antibiotics she would be OK. But this time it didn't work. Yesterday she had a little milk, a couple slices of banana and went back to bed. When we went to check on her at 9pm she had died.
It felt like the end of an era - like Small was the last "character", the last quirky animal that made the farm unique. But then I remembered Gigi, the Golden Guernsey goat who thinks she is human, Squeak - the pig who needs to run around in circles before she will eat and Bridie, the Highland cow, who will gallop across the field and stick out the longest tongue, just to get a few grass nuts. So someone coming to the farm for the first time would make their own list of special animals, their own reasons why the farm remains unique. 21 December 2012
An Unusual Phone Call
Yesterday we took a call from someone with a strange request - they were trying to locate someone they had never met and hoped that we might know them.
This was their story. They had found a digital camera in Tonbridge Wells, Kent. It had no contact details and so they had looked at the photos to see if there were any clues as to its owner. None of the photos gave any clues - except these photos of our farm. They expanded the details of the sponsporship notice, found our name, found us on the web and gave us a call. They were hoping the family might be the sponsors of Bracken (the goat on the notice). Unfortunately we didn't recognise the family. If the camera details have been set properly they took the photo in April 2008. So - if this is you or you know who it is, get in contact with us and we can get you in contact with the people who have your camera. 4 Nov 2011
The Big Event!
This morning we had a fantastic surprise - Imogen our White Park cow gave birth to a beautiful calf! A surprise? - well yes..... We had organised artificial insemination for Imogen back in January but if it had worked, she should have had a calf last week. So when she didn't - we assumed it hadn't worked. Yes - she looked a little fatter, yes she seemed a little bad tempered but that didn't mean she was pregnant. So this morning, when Kate went out to feed the pigs, she couldn't believe her eyes - Imogen seemed to be pushing and bellowing like a cow in labour.
Neil went to check and sure enough a calf was on the way. The pair of them escorted Imogen from the field to the shelter (well, the weather forecast suggests rain this afternoon and we wouldn't want the calf to get wet!). Within an hour of arriving in her new pen she gave birth to Quad. Isn't he beautiful? 28 Oct 2011
Why Quad? - well - his name has to begin with Q - according to our naming policy -and he is her fourth calf.
Don't forget your camera
Yesterday I was wandering through the orchard on my way to pick some apples. It was such a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the ducklings were splashing around in their paddling pool and the baby goats were chasing each other around as well jumping on and off the rabbit hutches.
I saw one little girl completely surrounded by baby goats. They were trying their best to get to her bag of food, nibble her jacket and play with her hair. She was loving it. Her mum and dad were nearby and she called to them to take a photo. Her dad told her he had left it at home, on the charger. I saw her little face fall. So I suggested that I took a photo and put it on our website.
So here it is Isla! 
Bad Goats and Exploring Piglets
Gigi has disgraced herself. After being a pain all day - eating all my potted plants, leading Grace into the shop time and time again, by early afternoon she hit a new low. I made the mistake of leaving my front door open, only to return and find she had urinated all over my leather sofa. Not only that, but as she had jumped off she had left piles of droppings scattered across the floor. She is lucky she started the day as my favourite goat - otherwise I might have been tempted to start looking up recipes for goat curry!
And it has been all change on the piglet front. We have two groups of kune kune piglets around at the moment. The oldest ones have become so round - having spent days grazing windfalls in the orchard, stealing the duck food and generally scrounging anything they could find, that the time had come to put them in a paddock and take control of what they ate. So they are now in a pen and the youngest group are now out and about, wandering through the orchard and looking for people to tickle their bellies.
Mrs P
On Friday we faced up to the realisation that Mrs Pugwash - our Large Black Pig - was not going to get better. She had been going down hill for a few months but the day before had seemed to have hit a new low.
It will come as no surprise to learn that normally pigs gobble down their food in no time at all - and it as well not to try to come between a pig and its dinner! So when a pig ceases to be at the fence calling for its breakfast you know something is wrong. Mrs P (as everyone came to call Mrs Pugwash) had always had a good appetite - she was a large pig and keeping that body on the move meant she needed plenty of food. But for a while she had slowed down. She would eat her food but slowly and was more interested in the treat at the end of the meal (a cake or an apple) than the pig pellets.
On Thursday she didn't seem interested in either pellets or treats. We called the vet and after an examination, he told us she had an inoperable tumor in her stomach. Consequently she would find eating progressively difficult or impossible. It was therefore a kindness to put her to sleep. It was with a huge amount of sadness we agreed.
She had been with us for 12 years and was part of the family. 13 August 2011
Moving livestock
I am not sure which was funnier - watching Neil (the livestock man) try to move the ducklings to their paddock for the first time, or trying to move the piglets. Both piglets and ducklings had been in stables for a while. The ducklings had never seen a paddock before, the piglets had been carried from their paddock to the stable in a wheelbarrow.
Neil had been so confident the procedure would be easy to execute he suggested I watched him and took a few photos. I realised pretty quickly photos would not be possible. Neither ducklings nor piglets moved in an orderly way. I stood along the path they should have travelled on, only to see them running in the opposite direction. Then, in the case of the piglets, they all went racing back the other way. The ducklings, on the other hand, were not used to walking any distance and just sat down. Those behind them didn't notice, so just walked over them. It was very funny to watch - but just about impossible to capture on film. Shame! 12 August 2011
A room with a view
I live on the farm and have a flat on the ground floor. For Christmas last year I asked everyone to get me bits and pieces for a bird feeding station, which I now have set up outside my sitting room window (I can see it now - two goldfinches, a robin and 3 tits). Outside my bedroom I have a new addition - a bathing and drinking station. The drinking bowl has been there for many months - but the "duck pond" is a recent addition and it is proving to be a great draw. It was installed for a pair of ducks who, it seems, have fallen in love and want to be apart from the rest of the group swimming on the river. Most of the time they are prepared to sit, side by side by the water bowl. But when the weather warmed up a bit, they kept trying to climb in. Time and time again, they would upset the bowl,leaving themselves no water to drink or preen themselves with. So after a few weeks, when it was clear this was THEIR spot, we decided to give them a more permanent solution. Someone had given us an old child's sand pit a number of years ago. So we pulled this out of the store room, dusted it down and filled it with water. The ducks now spend the day in and out of their small duck pond. But just now I heard a duck/pig commotion. I went to the door and saw the ducks standing, open-beaked by the side of the pool, while a piglet had a good soak! I will try to get a picture if it happens again - but he was just too fast for me last time, by the time I grabbed my camera he was out. 9 August 2011
A load of Bull
In 2006 one of our White Park cows, Imogen, gave birth to a black bull. Both parents were white White Parks but, as can sometimes happen, a double dose of a recessive gene lead to a black calf. We named him Lucifer. Unfortunately the market for a male calf of any colour is very limited. With a calf that had none of the characteristics listed for a White Park we thought he would, when he reached the right age, have to be sold for meat. But within a couple of days of being born, we heard that someone was thinking of keeping a herd of black White Parks. We contacted them and, after some negotiation we agreed to a sale. He therefore avoided castration and, at 8 months went to his new home.
Lucifer 2006, a few days old
Last month we held the annual Norfolk Horn Breeders Group meeting. One of the people to attend was the stockman for the herd of black White Parks, where they also have a flock of Norfolk Horn sheep. He handed us a photo of the most amazing looking bull .... the kind of bull who seems to know he is not just handsome, but a little scary as well. And guess what? It turned out to be Lucifer - though you would never guess from comparing the photo above with the one below! 9 August 2011
Lucifer the Magnificent 2011
A Mate for our Kid
Gigi's aunt, Ginger, kidded this morning. She had a little girl -they both seem happy and healthy. Ginger must have been a bit snappy yesterday as she got ready to have her baby, because Gigi didn't seem to spend any time with her. She was out and about the whole time. She spent sometime in front of the shop - but when I wouldn't let her in, she sat by the car outside the shop, waiting for me to relent and give her a cuddle.
Later on, when she worked out I was a bit hard hearted, she came in through the back door.
It soon became a game - sneaking in and then being carried out. There was no shortage of volunteers to carry her out and give her a bit of a cuddle on the way. But visitors beware - she seems to have developed a taste for hair (I thought it was just mine, which looks a bit like straw - but she doesn't seem to mind the colour!) 22 July 2011
Gigi
Photo Karen Steel
Geraldine's orphan kid is now known as Gigi and she is turning out to be a real wanderer. She is so small she has no problem fitting through the bars of her pen and so, when she sees someone who looks interesting, she squeezes out and follows them around the farm. On Sunday someone told us she had followed them around for a while and then, when they sat down in the orchard for a rest, she climbed onto their lap and went to sleep! 13 July 2011