Happy (belated) New Year!

Well, here we are into the second month of 2016 and I am only just getting around to writing a blog! The festive season came and went and I had a lovely time with my family, spent at my sister's home in Sheffield. She and her husband love cooking and so we had a lot of gastronomic delights, although I could have done without the horrendous cold that floored me on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day – I haven't had such a humdinger for years! It was unseasonably mild, even in Sheffield, and we managed to get out for a short stroll around the Botanical Gardens, where some plants were already coming into flower, including a ceanothus – a very confused plant, I think. On either side of the entrance gate were two small shrubbery beds with a yellow witchhazel on one side and a red one on the other, both filling the air with their lovely perfume. The Botanical Gardens also boast a series of Victorian glasshouses, like a miniature version of Kew Gardens, and they contained some very interesting plants from around the world.

Between Christmas and the New Year I started a decorating job, at Jeni's place of work (is that classed as nepotism?). They had had the shop next door converted into a new office suite, complete with conference room, photocopier room and a disabled toilet and shower. All of the plasterwork was new and all of the wooden door surrounds and skirting boards, so it has been a long job (and I haven't finished yet!) but it has had the advantage of keeping me warm, dry and, above all, gainfully occupied, during some horribly wet and windy weather! On a couple of drier days I have managed to keep up with my gardening job, but it's no fun weeding in sub-zero temperatures or on heavy clay soil that sticks to my wellies, but it's all grist to the mill.

In an effort to integrate a bit more into village life, I inveigled Jeni into coming with me to the local Burns' Night held in the village hall. It was great fun with the haggis being piped in, in traditional manner, and a wee bit of Rabbie Burns quoted, as well. However, at sometime during the evening, we were persuaded to join the Pylle Pageant in May and have now been cast as a couple of agricultural labourers' wives! The Pageant is to celebrate the coming of the railway to Pylle in 1862 and we have to dress (as far as practicable) in costume of the period that we can either make ourselves or hire. Most of the 'upper classes' will be having proper costume fittings but I think I will be dusting off the old sewing machine and trying to produce a couple of lowly dresses for Jeni and me. It actually sounds as if it will be a fascinating day with displays in the Church and at the Old Rectory, plus my singing group will also be performing.

Part way through January I received an email from my friends and WWOOF hosts down in Cornwall, asking if I could do an unscheduled farm sit to enable them to go to Jo's mother's funeral which would necessitate them being away for a few days. Happy to help out and have a change of scene I duly went down to Launceston on 28^th January. I arrived at lunchtime and then spent the afternoon helping James with the sheep as 'Scanner Man' arrived to see who was expecting what and when. Of the twenty ewes that we selected back at the end of October, nineteen were safely in lamb: most of these are expecting twins with four due to produce singles and two to produce triplets! As I reported, back in November, both the rams used were very keen and covered a lot of the ewes in the first few days and, of course, most of them held to that first service and will be lambing like billy-oh in the first week! Unfortunately, I won't be able to get there until the second week, by which time it will be all over, bar the shouting, and Jo and James will be exhausted! I was very pleased (and relieved) to discover that No 74 is expecting twins, but will definitely have had them by the time I get back in April. While I was standing by the pen, chatting to James and awaiting the arrival of 'Scanner Man', I felt something nuzzling my fingers and looking down was amazed and very touched to find it was No 74, acknowledging my presence in the rather low-key way that she does – it's now nearly four years since my intensive nursing of her, and she still remembers!

The next morning I took James into Launceston to catch a bus to Exeter so that he could catch a train to London and then south to meet up with Jo for the funeral, and I returned to the farm and took up my duties: in the mornings I had to feed the ewes with some pellets – luckily, the amount that they are having at the moment fits into a bucket, which is much easier to dispense from than the sack, and means that I wasn't 'felled' by hungry ewes before I could tip them into the trough. After that I loaded the trailer up with huge armfuls of haylage and drove the quad bike out to feed last year's lambs. It has been so wet that all the fields are at saturation point so that I had to use four-wheel drive to get through the deep mud in the gateway and up the hill to the hay rack. Once they were fed I had the fun job of trying to count them – they are quite nervous so that every time I moved to count a batch on the far side of the hayrack, they would scatter and I would have to start again! When I had established that there really were 51 in the field I headed back to the yard, parked up the quad and trailer and headed off on foot, with the dogs in tow, to check on the rest of the sheep further down the track. The four rams had a hay rack just inside the gate and James had taken down three small bales of hay and put them under a tarpaulin, for me to feed as necessary. Continuing on down the track, we then entered the wood where a side track led down to the small but turbulent stream, which I had to wade across to get to the fields behind the old mill, where the rest of the sheep are overwintering. Again, James had positioned hay by the lower gate, but this time it was a large bale, which I could unpeel and use to top up the hay rack in this field. There were 54 sheep in this group but they were much easier to count as they are all older and have seen it all before, so just carried on eating as I counted. From there it was a long, gradual hill back up to the farm and a welcome cup of coffee.

The weather was not too bad while I was there, despite the weather forecast, but most days were damp and windy and not conducive to remaining outside longer than was strictly necessary, but I did manage to do a bit of work in the vegetable garden, weeding and mulching one of the raised beds and starting on another so, hopefully, when I go back in April I will be able to plant some vegetables.

I would have stayed longer but I had to go to a funeral myself on Thursday 4^th so, with a heavy heart I turned homewards and went to the funeral of Frank, my son's godfather, a farmer and definite 'character'! The church at Backwell, just outside Bristol, was packed with his many friends and family, including his newest great-grandchild and the service was as good as these things can be, with a wonderful tribute read by his son and a touching poem, that I had not heard before, read out by his youngest daughter. It seemed, in some ways, such a short time since he was caught feeding Christening cake to a 9-month old David! I was sad that I hadn't been in touch much in the last few years, but hope to renew my friendship with his widow and grown-up children, in the near future.

Well, tomorrow is Monday and, if I am to keep on doing the occasional travelling to justify the continuation of this blog, I must go and paint doors in the morning!