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.
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.
This week, a Sheep Scanner was up our track. Our neighbour had organised it and very kindly let us tag on. As I held on to one of the ewes, we got chatting and he reminded me of my last episode with a Sheep Scanner.
Ah yes. The last Scanner Man now has a whole song made up about that episode with many thanks to Billy Joel for providing the inspiration and tune. Yes, substitute Scanner Man for Piano Man and you’ve got yourself a tune to sing along to in your head while they are busy working.
This week’s scanning session was nothing like the first episode. I’ll set the scene. The snow was down, drifting, icy, and road conditions weren’t great. I was at the end of the track waiting for the school transport to drop off our eldest. As the taxi driver tried to leave, the van wheels spun on the compacted snow. Never fear, I was dressed in full ‘outdoor-time-to-get-stuck-in’ gear. Not elegant, not classy; but fully prepared with snow shovel, grit box, and a tow rope. As I worked at getting the lady back to moving, a pick up arrived. One with duct tape around the front, pulling a trailer, and a guy with the window down asked if we needed help. No, it was fine, the lady got the van rolling and he then stopped me in my tracks, ‘Are you Beth?’. Hmm, yes. I then realised he was speaking to someone through his pickup’s audio. It was my neighbour! She was stuck in town with the snow and he was the Scanner Man for her sheep, could I show him were he was going. Aye, ok.
So we headed up the track. A few times I thought his vehicle must have died. Maybe the duct tape wasn’t doing so well with the pot holes. But no, he eventually arrived and we parked up at the neighbours. My boys by this time wanted out. The Scanner Man was on his phone. Right, let’s get on with it. And this is where I thought, Man, if people thought I took a lot of photos, you should watch him! As we did the two ewes, I desperately was trying to remember which one was scanned with what. Finally, the boys were bundled back in the pickup, and we headed on to home. Our own cows checked as the cold bite could be felt, the fire light, and tea sorted.
By this stage, the tune of The Piano/Scanner Man was now on repeat.
It’s four o’clock on a Fri-a-day, The snow laying thick and quite fast There's a young guy stopping his pickup Making use of his duct tape galore He says, Beth, can you show me where I'm going? I'm here to scan your neighbour's sheep The snow held her back and I know she's got two to be done You'll be glad for waterproof clothes
Show us the scans, you’re the Scanner Man Show us the scans today Well, we’re all in the mood for the lambing results And you’ve got us feelin’ alright’
And so, the song stayed with me. Every spring, the tune and chorus is back. Oddly enough, it was ages afterwards at the Royal Highland Show that I discovered who the Scanner Man was. Worse, I was told the episode was on his vlog. Yep, there I was, having had no idea that he had been filming the lot and the boys could be heard in the background.
So thankfully, this year’s Scanner Man didn’t have a phone. Or at least I never saw it. He did have a single orange croc which was this year’s highlight (for the boys that is; the sheep never asked a thing about it).
Birchwood Croft, Inverness-shire 