Author: croftingwifie

Crofting Life

The Reluctant Five

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Yes, not the Famous Five, for these five are not famous, nor show any potential of upsetting the original Famous Five (but I fear if I make too much comparision I will have the copyright police sending me some fantastic and highly legalissed e-mails. Which I don’t want, obviously.

The Reluctant Five are not new on the croft, they joined us back in September. Five ryeland ewe lambs from nearby. Since before having ever owned a single shoop (for that is surely the legitimate, grammatically correct form for a single sheep), a work colleague had mentioned to be that I must get ryelands. Add on a decade and I do finally have ryelands.

Getting these sheep came after a spell of the classic of going from ‘we love sheep’, to ‘who bought them things in?’, usually said in the tail end of winter when the grass isn’t growing, the fields are covered in snow, and you have no idea when spring is going to arrive. So the last lot were sold, and it was planned to go about a year sheepless. Uh huh, it lasted only a few months. And we have sheep again.

Now these girls have settled in well. One has even been nicknamed Little Miss Crumpet (being a bit of an air head and got herself stuck twice). However, the recent snow fall meant I needed to quickly change which field they were in. And this meant walking them along the road, past five neighbouring houses, past a field that they couldn’t resist, and various new things that they just weren’t sure about. Which is fair enough, so we went slowly, very slowly, with me walking and talking behind them so they knew I was there (with their wool over their eyes, they can’t see much and voice is needed; and I did not pull the wool over their eyes, it is their natural placement of wool). Which meant, if anyone heard me, I had to talk like a commentator in a sing-song voice for about half an hour as the Reluctant Five and I meandered up the track. Sniffing (them, not me), checking out the new smells as they went very hesitantly. And what do you talk to your sheep about as you get them to move? Good question, I just hope no one over heard me, that matter is between me and them.

The Reluctant Five are now up closer to the house, have been guided to where the hay and nuts can be found, the wool lifted from around their eyes so they can hopefully see just that little bit better. They seemed content with their adventure and what probably feels like they have just reached the north pole by the most unadventurous sheep know to go on an expedition.

Crofting Life, Sheep

Sheepless Nights

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We are sheepless. Not a Sean Connery version of sleepless, but no sheep. Deliberately, as in, they have headed off to pastures new. The latest flock graced us for six months, ensuring the grass was kept down at the end of last autumn and putting important nutrients back to the soil with their poop.

But their time had come; seasons come, seasons go, and it was the time for them to head on. So no more counting sheep each day. Nighttime counting is really hard due to having to count eyes (reflecting spooky looks back from the light of a head torch), I really don’t recommend counting your sheep at night. I preferred daytime checks. And even then, they were renown for making sure one was always hidden during the daily count. Their cute faces who learned to come to the whistle, their different personalities, their propensity to find any slight gap in fences and abscond. The hay field now will rest, the grass is starting to come to life and it will soon be putting its energy into its gorgeous grass.

And while the sheep have gone, I still have multiple fleeces from previous years to sort, wash, and prep. But in the meantime, the veg patch seeds are being planted.

Sheep

The Gap

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The Sheep Gang found the gap. Not the Watford Gap, but a gap in the fence. I had spotted one on the wrong side of the fence last week so went to check how it had gotten through. Having rattled the treat bucket, the whole crew came running; no issues with the fence buster culprit getting stuck on the wrong side. With them all distracted by treats, I went to explore. And what I found was a fairly large gap between an old gate and a strainer post. I made the executive decision to shift them to another field and ignore the gap. All grand. Then, I got the message one night that the dung spreaders would be arriving first thing the following morning. Now I needed to shift the sheep again.

Bright and breezy (if that’s how you define sheets of rain coming off the hill) and I was trudging across the field, another bucket of treats with the Crew making me look like the Pied Piper. This time I convinced them to go into the Old Woods.

The Dung Spreaders did their work which meant I then had fewer options for the sheep. No problem, I gave them hay where they had been initially and let them back.

But this was where in the short space of time, I had forgotten about the gap. And it was only a few days later that a neighbour spotted their adventures. Something needed to be done.

Baler twine, a knife, and a mobile sheep gate, and I went to see what I could do. The result was satisfactory. Whether it could be classified as fencing or weaving, I’m not sure. But no sheep have been successful getting past this new border patrol.

Tractor

Flat tyres

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After dropping Tim off at the station to head back to work last week, I asked the boys how long it would be until we got a flat tyre. We had a few options; mine had been one. In reality? Three. Yes, it was only three days into solo parenting/farming that I discovered a flat tyre. No, not the car; I’m not too bad at changing that now. But the tractor. The byre needed another bedding bale. An hour had been spent moving sheep to a different field so that I could rig up electric wire to allow the cows access to the top field. Sun shining, chilly, but lovely. It was only as I walked back that I spotted it. It was well and truly sunk.

Out came the compressor and slowly the tyre went back to its normally shape. I was hoping that this would just be a really slow leak. Now, compressors are pretty noisy. So it was only when I switched it off that I could hear the angry hiss from the wheel. The brain coggs started ticking. I decided that if I went quickly, I could surely jam a straw bale and another hay bale into the byre before it went flat again, and I wouldn’t need to move bales for a week. It was a race against the angry hiss and the countdown clock was ticking. I also realised that I would need to park the tractor in a way to ensure there was access to the tyre as I was unsure if I would be able to get it back up, how you jack up a tractor, and figured nobody would be happy if I parked it right up against a wall.

Cows bedding sorted, extra hay jammed in, one parked tractor, and one flat tyre. Now, I’ve never had a flat on a tractor. So what else to do when I don’t know what to do? I rang George McLaren in Dingwall where we got the tractor from. They have been great with us, and I know I can ask any question. And the conversation went the usual way:

Me: George, I’ve got a flat tyre, what do I do?

G: Tyre places can do them (names a few), give them a ring. We can do it too but they’ll be cheaper. Any issues though, get back in touch and we can sort you out.

Me: Great. What tyre do I need?

G: What type is your tractor? It will be a (lists two types of numbers) or a (lists another set of numbers).

Me: Hmm, not sure, can you look it up for me?

G: I’ll just take a look…

And so, with the needed info, I called Ness City Tyres, the place in town I think needs to do loyalty points for those of us who seem to be the frequent flatters. And, by 3pm, the tractor was back up on all fours. I found out how to get the tyre off, now know what pressure it should be, and also found out that my dislike of compressors is very reasonable in terms of safety.

So huge thank you to George at McLaren’s, and Duncan at Ness City Tyres. Just in time for the next lot of snow forecast.

Food, Garden

Baked Apple Season

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We are nearly at the end of our apple supply from last autumn. Some varieties keep better than others, and the last remaining box seem to have the ability to keep their youthful glow. No shrivelled up, wrinkly ones, or fusty minging ones in this box. They look the same as when they were picked last autumn.

And they are great for doing baked apples with. Simple coring, then adding raisins, butter, sugar and a pinch of cinnamon before going in the oven. Served with some cream, and it is one satisfying dessert.

This last box should last us for the next month. We will then be appleless until the autumn. But we still have heaps of potatoes. Which is not quite the same as apples, but both can be baked; just think I’ll leave the sugar and raisins away from the potatoes though.