Tag: lockdown

Crafting, Crofting Life

Ace of spades

croftingwifie

Crofting is one of my current day jobs (thankfully, and hence why I stopped lambing although it doesn’t mean I don’t work at night, I just cover it if needed). Anyway, besides the day job, I have other interests. Yes, I like my cows but I don’t cow whisper all the time. The brushcutter and I get on well. The flail mower, the garden, the mole traps, are all things I enjoy doing. And they tend to get the priority. They give a huge satisfaction in seeing your accomplishments. But I also have ‘indoor’ interests. Spinning, knitting, cross stitch, oh, and card making. Yes, I like making cards. The past couple of years I haven’t had the time. Really. Ok, maybe I did but I was too sleep deprived. But this year has been better for sleep (believe me it has, just maybe not the four episodes last night). So why did I think that this year I would manage cards? Does getting more sleep boost the ‘yes we can’ mentality? Who knows, but the 2020 Christmas card making side of things has had a few glitches and seems to have taken its inspiration on from that one undercooked bat…

1. Yes, just like covonavirus started in Wuhan and we were all watching it but took no action; I started thinking about the cards in October. But took no action. The brain then went into full blown lockdown mode and has refused all access to any sense of creativity what-so-ever. Great start.

2. Card making prompted a panic usage of four-year-old wanting to use paint. He has never asked to paint stones before. But get out my things and whoa, he wants to not just paint, but paint stones. And with a four year old painting there needs to be a two metre distance between the two of us. It’s not just a government thing, I don’t want splashed with his paint, nor do I really need the house redecorated. And the house was not built with two metre distancing in mine; it’s just not conducive in the work area. Either he paints, or I card make.

3. Access to the carder has had to be limited to only one person (glue on a two year old can spread round your house faster than a respiratory virus. Don’t believe me because you can’t see it? Try glitter at home…). That means I’ve had to wait until two mini Crofters are in bed. And as the saying goes, I’m not an early bird, nor a night owl, just one exhausted pigeon. I lead my children by example by going to bed the same time as them when it’s just me.

4. And as 7pm is the new midnight and drinking bourbon is the new eating bonbons; so 23rd January is the new Christmas. Think I should just wish a Merry Christmas one and all and please don’t expect them to be made, let alone posted, until the Crofter gets home.

Crofting Life, Livestock

In the jungle, the mighty jungle…

croftingwifie

Yep. The lion sleeps tonight. And as much as I come across as a lion to some, I don’t have the skill to sleep like a lion. I can go through phases more akin to the night owl. And not that I want to, but whether a career with night shifts and on calls did it but I can really struggle with sleep. This past week has been no exception. Now, it’s not just that I struggle with sleep. If I have been asleep and a mini crofter wakes up in the night for whatever reason, I can’t get back to sleep. Ping, that’s me wide awake and ready to go get ’em. I blame the on call rota for that. Which is fine if you need an emergency operation in the night. Not so fine if you still have to crack on with the day jobs and there really isn’t anything you can do during the night. One night of it is fine, a few start to take their toll, usually at the four plus I start struggling. Top it with about a 3 hour sleep night and I feel like I’ve just forced myself to stay awake after coming off of night shifts. The eyes are gritty. And you spend the day clock watching to bed time.

But as bed time approaches and I start closing curtains, I spot the cows. Not bellowing, but they have been mingling at the water trough for a while. Hmm, who’s serving drinks at the bar and why are none of you socially distancing? Cows usually meander to the water trough throughout the day. It’s unusual for them to be at it together. It’s not a group exercise to the water hole as it is for other creatures. I watch Tilly, she raises her head and there is no water dripping. Aghh, something has gone wrong with the water. Scrap the early bed calling. Grab a pair of gloves, my stick and off we (the dog and I) head up the hill to check the water source.

The thing is, it has been a wet summer. Or so it seems. And we did get a bit of a downpour the day before. Has gubbings come off the hill and blocked it? Hmm, no is the answer. Everything looking like it should be other than, there wasn’t much water in the burn. Gus and I snake back along the pipe. Fine, fine, fine, and there we are. A connection point with water leaking and a soggy mess down hill. The connection is more stubborn than I am so I quickly give up and decide to put the cows onto option two. If you aren’t happy with your drinks at one bar, head to another.

And this is where confusion enters the scene. I shut off tap one up stream, which is needed before turning on tap two. Start heading to the next one and I hear water flowing. Ehh? I go back up and check. The pressure gauge has gone up and there is definitely water coming down. Which means the tap was off. So the leak further up was only because of the high pressure (so hence I couldn’t get it any tighter). When did that happen? And how? I plod over to check the trough and sure enough the sound of water gurgling and spurting through is a lovely noise. The cows stop their mumblings, have a bit of a tussle as to who gets served first before each one soon starts heading off back to chomp grass.

As to how the tap got shut off? It’s near the beehives which I had checked the day before. I had forgotten the tap was so close to them as its under thick grass. I had no awareness of turning the tap when taking things on and off the hive but it would seem I and part of the beehive was the root of the problem. Although the idea of the bees joining forces to get the tap off for a practical joke isn’t far from the imagination.