Tag: country life

Crofting Life

Busy

croftingwifie

Things have been relatively quiet on the blogging front for me. I have been acutely aware of it. For the past year, I have built up a substantial number of posts currently filed under ‘drafts’. Getting them out of the starting blocks has been an issue, let alone getting them checked and over the last hurdle into the published section. Things would happen, but by the time I got a chance to write it, I seemed to get writers block. My brain just wanted the power button to go to sleep mode. One of these reasons, was for being so busy.

‘Busy?’ I have been asked that very question (but say it with your eyebrows slightly raised and a look of ‘aye right, you’re having a laugh’). And this is one sticky point (like chewing gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, rather than a sticky toffee pudding sticky-but-oh-so-good type of sticky; just in case you got the wrong idea). I will not go into detail on the background but I concluded from the lady’s question and further (patronising) statement, that during the entire lockdown she has a) had no dependents and b) no requirement to work. I was about to turn up at her door the following day, hand over a 2 and 4 year old, the keys for a tractor which doesn’t like the cold (honestly, it’s a battery problem, not a tractor that wishes it was in Spain. Well, maybe it does after the cold spell we had back in January, I never asked it, but even if it did, it’s not going on any holiday!). Anyway, she could have my two Mini Crofters for a day (luxury really), the tractor which won’t always start, 13 cows to feed, oh, and why don’t I turn her water off so she has to sort that too and then ask her why she’s not done anything. I wouldn’t, may I clarify. But the thought did cross my mind. Instead, I just looked at her. It was a shell shocked type of response. I’m not really known for my witty comebacks, my responses are more like fine wine and need to sit in a dark space for a while before suddenly appearing. But it did highlight a serious flaw. There are people who have literally sat about and become completely disconnected from how lockdown has affected different people, different groups, differently. Now, I’m not about to stand on a preacher’s block and ask why some have just done nothing (or even why the lady thought that was everyone). I should clarify, sitting does not necessarily mean you have done nothing. Nor does it mean you are disconnected. Neither does the act of being busy mean you have accomplished things.

Did the lady receive no post or deliveries throughout lockdown? Did she never once need to access the NHS? Did she ever wonder why food shops were open and how they managed to have food to sell? From our level, even the Crofter has had to keep working throughout it. And that has been one of our major issues. His work is based in Norway, which as a country has been fairly strict with travel and quarantining. Two weeks of quarantine before going out to the rig would have made it 4 weeks away, 2 weeks home. So they upped the work time to cut back on the number of times he needed to quarantine. So, his away times were long, his home times brief.

Not only that, schools have been off, then on, then off again. The teachers have had to manage working through it. In the spell after Christmas, our oldest, being in nursery, had it five mornings a week on google classrooms. There was then another session with his key worker. I did not make every one (about the time the byre water froze and I was running kettles up and down was when I decided keeping animals alive was a higher priority than logging on). And that’s just it, keeping everything alive was pretty busy.

And so in answer to the lady who thought I should have ‘managed’ a lot more; well, why not come by for a cuppa? Don’t worry, I won’t abandon my children or force you to jump start the tractor. But just, if you have so much spare time, bring wellies, washing up gloves and wine, as I’ll take it you are happy to help (and I won’t preach; but I’m not bad at getting three points all starting with ‘W’!). And the benefit? Come walk in my shoes and you’ll gain the smell of fresh manure, probably get insomnia, and understand why I never wrote a trilogy in lockdown.

Crofting Life, Livestock

The Final Countdown

croftingwifie

Harry, Theo and Alan’s opportunities to perform their version of Shawshank Redemption are limited. In fact, if they manage to escape now they really will need to be added to the team in Hollywood’s Ocean’s 11. Yes, after the trio escaped on their first day, they were named after escapology artists: Harry Houdini, Theodore Hardeen, and Alan Alan. Harry was the ginger ninja who nearly became folklore by heading for the hills. Runty MacRuntface, who was no where like a runt now. Thankfully bucket training became a very useful tool. But they have now got to a stage where they are ready for the next chapter.

The livestock trailer was moved into place yesterday so they could get use to it, prod about and be familiar with it. For yes, in that they will then head to their forever home.

They have done really well digging up the ground, escaping (they would notify you in the space of ohh, about half an hour if you accidentally left the electric off) and well, just being pigs. They have covered more ground than I had initially calculated (based on the previous pigs’ digging ability; it turned out these guys were less moving and shaking and more digging and shovelling). Covering more ground was great. Ok, the electric fence needed shifted more often then planned but as it was set up to expand their ground area over time, it was very exciting when you could keep extending it for them. They then head off before winter hits. The winters here are not pleasant (we have done pigs over winter once and said, not again, not necessarily for the pigs, but for us). We are high up and can be hit with snow which doesn’t lie even at the neighbours (aye, it’s the tropics down that way when you head for the council road).

The ground the pigs have been on will still need some work. Stones have been lifted and shifted but there are plenty from more recently that need uplifted. When the pigs were smaller, this was easier. A smaller sized pig can come up beside you and want a good scratch. But they have grown. Now, they are not massive but have the potential to join a rugby scrum and win. So with that, I have left the stones recently for once they go and I don’t have to rugby tackle everything (because yes, they will play along and yes, they would win, I accept that so I just bide my time). Rushes can have a very strong root base so even they will need to be fully uprooted to ensure we don’t get a new crop next year. And then the soil needs levelled. Pigs are good at digging, less so at tilling. They aren’t really the immaculate golfer’s lawn makers. No, they are the serious ploughers, not the high demanding massive tractors needing fuel to run but muscle fuel doing what they want to do.

So, tomorrow we say farewell to them and soon hello to pork back on the menu. If they do escape think I will just claim full ignorance as I’m sure they would do well out in the hills, spooking hillwalkers and running like mad when they hear the sika deer shriek. So coming soon, is pork!

Crofting Life, Livestock

The End of the Line

croftingwifie

The Travelling Wilbury’s were probably not singing about electric fencing. Nor, guessing by their picture when I googled them, did they have the same problem as I do with predictive text. Both electric fencing and predictive text have the ability to cause a pent up feeling that you really are, at the end of the line. But its this song that came to mind (well, the one line, have no idea what the rest of the lyrics are or what the song is actually about) when dealing with both issue (fencing and predictive text; being able to memorise more than a line in a song is pushing it).

About 12 hours after the Crofter left for work, I had a pig on the run. Yep, after quite a drawn out bedtime (predictive text has tried to change ‘time’ to ‘line’; why does it think bedline is a word??). Try again, after the bedTIME battle with the mini crofters, I had finally broke free to fun, no, run (aghh, how do I switch it off??) and shut things up for the night. Dog let out, polytunnel shut, etc. Great. Get back to the house and whoa! There’s Harry, the not so wee finger (aghh, ginger!!) ninja pig on the wrong side. Thankfully, the pigs are now all bucket trained and will happily follow you at your heel (more so than the dog but we’re coming to that)

I should also now add that I have changed to a different device (yes, most of my blog posts are typed on my phone) to try and decrease the agitation of predictive text. It may also explain to some why there can be some really odd spelling mistakes and some random word selections recently, well, you now know why. A good writer will blame the annoyance of iPhone predictive text…

Harry soon joined Alan and Theo. This was after a quick sprint up and down the track to turn off (and then back on) the electric fencing. However, it soon became apparent that they were quite friendly with it. They are bright sparks, but we need them to stay within their means. Sorting fencing I figured would be a job for the morning. As I headed off to put the food bucket away, Gus, the dog, took off. I called him back. Great, he came. Turned round to shut a door and like that, he had disappeared.

And this is where I am also at the end of a line. His movement had been restricted back when the cows were near calving. It has been slowly reintroduced. Not always plain sailing but he has also been doing the job that we got him for. But over the past few days he has been doing the disappearing trick on us. All you have to do is turn for a second and he’s away. So what do I do? Answers on a postcard please, I’m away to look up some lyrics.