Tag: winter

Crofting Life, Livestock

A new day dawning

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A new day, a new dawn, and another attempt at starting the tractor. 

The tractor doesn’t like the cold. Not the whole tractor, just the battery apparently. And while it is able to cough its way to life on most other occasions, it’s a pitiful, sometimes nonexistent, attempt when it’s baltic. 

A good hour clearing snow had meant I had warmed up. And it didn’t feel quite so cold. A better sign of the battery being in less of a grump? An illusion really, as I eyed up the tractor now covered in a layer of snow. The gentle fall of snowflakes from overnight had had some merry dance and were now strewn everywhere. Yes, even inside the hay shed. Och well, the charger which had been hooked up like a ventilator giving the tractor some intensive care was showing green. A wee blast with a hairdryer cleared away the snow and the suspense grew. Now was the dreaded ‘turn-the-key-and-hope-for-the-best’ moment (and if the attempt was unsuccessful, the backbreaking attempt of rolling a bale in was now about ten times worse with a thick layer of snow to battle, and they needed a bale of hay as well). 

The wee fairy light button (what ever that warm up indicator is supposed to be but it looks like a string of fairy lights) finally turned off to signify it was ready. And instantly it burst into life. No half attempt, or questioning today. No sign that it had been refusing it move yesterday. 

So with the noise, the cows knew what was coming. The straw and hay was delivered and the tractor was parked back up with the audience of contented cows. And sheep. I got out of the tractor to find five sheep looking at me. They had polished off their remaining hay while I had sorted the cows. At least their hay can be done on foot.

Crofting Life

Clockwork

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Yes, as soon as Tim headed off for the train, the temperature plummeted. A brief sprinkling of snow had graced the grass the night before. Not in any winter wonderland, but in a hastily cast array. But at least at that time the temperature wasn’t in baltic figures.

Monday took to the challenge and made sure it was nippy. The clear skies and sunshine gave a forgiving bow to the temperature. Everything outside (livestock and locomotives) all seemed fine. Until today. Tuesday decided to one up Monday and the temperature overnight was down to -7 degrees.

The cows had been moved to their winter housing at the end of last week and have been quite content missing out on the snow. The new batch of sheep that I bought a few months ago who refuse all bucket training, were finally glancing towards their hayfeeder. Although, it was only a couple of blackies who decided to investigate, the rest remain aloof at the hay concept. Our Icelandics never went five paces away from it, so hopefully the rest will soon get the gist.

So today’s issue was not with livestock, but locomotives. The tractor in fact. Having seen the forecast for more snow and high winds, I wanted to get more straw bedding down for the cows (no, they don’t need it but I like to make sure they have it when required). The tractor refused to start. It let out an unenthusiastic humph and refused to play ball. It prefers warmer weather. I understand, don’t we all? It can deal with chilly weather, but not the down right cold. And last night it was.

So, I’ll try again tomorrow. If all else fails, I’ll be manually rolling it in. I hope the cows appreciate the effort.

Crofting Life, Livestock, Sheep

The Scanner Man

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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 

Baa, ba-ba, be-be-baa
Baa-baa, be-be-ba-ba maa,
La, la-la, di-di-da
La-la di-di-da da-dum

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).

Crofting Life

Winter and the flamingo dance.

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That time of year when snow glistens in the sun. The muted sounds buffed into tranquillity. All perfect winter scenes as social media are serenaded by a whole orchestra of glittery, snowy pictures that burst onto the scene.

And then it all melts. And you’ve got a foot of mud to wade through. The soggy ground squelching, holding wellies down stronger than an industrial hoover. The fear of becoming wellieless grips as each step is taken. The thought of a soggy sock in the middle of an open field, far from any relief of a dry foot grips your chest as tight as watching a movie where the music has gone into ‘suspense’ mode. The potential of looking like a flamingo, but without the glamour safari backdrop, as your welly remains in that last step is a very real, impending doom thought. Separation anxiety very quickly sets in. Noo, this is not the time to try the hippy bare-foot, guitar playing country life walk. This walk was to sort a fence. And a urgent matter. I don’t want a soggy sock. I want my wellies!

And so, to redeem that tiny piece of grace, two hands desperately go into starfish mode, the yoga pose (yes neighbours, of course I’m practicing yoga in the middle of a cow field) is maintained as the slow and very cautious bend is undertaken to perform the tug of war against the mud. Who’s going to win? Surely not the mud. The tugging ensures. Until suddenly, you win. The mud releases it’s grip as you fly backwards. Your wellieless foot is still dry. Hooray! Ok, you’re bums now soaking from the landing, but hey, at least you’ve been reunited with the wellie. The mutterings of ‘aye, this is the good life, huh?’ reverberate in the mind. Well, no one can’t say I’m not close to nature. I’m about a foot deep in it!

And I’m not sure if I look better in the flamingo pose or the yoga pose. I’ll go ask the cows.

Crofting Life

As the snow lies

croftingwifie

December ended up being a bit of a blur. Not in the “have you been to Specsavers?” type, but the day to day tasks turned to a ‘lets try and keep everyone and everything alive’ mode.

The microscopic bugs seemed to have held the house hostage. The siege seemed never ending; one attack would finish with that moment of silence before the next one would spring out from nowhere. In the middle of those situations, the snow fell. Suddenly at first. And a lot. And then the temperature dropped. Not to any drastic plunge by any means, but just enough to freeze water. And water’s fairly crucial. So the battle of the ice was declared; a twice daily repetitive strategy was enforced. Grab the wellies, the waterproofs, energy from the depth of your toes (before they freeze), start ‘The Battle’ song by Hans Zimmer in Gladiator, clench the fist, lift that snow shovel high and call out that battle cry.

The byre’s water went first. So the cows were let loose to the top field (which can have a water trough filled from the house). Rocky and Hilda are out wintering, so they needed another gate opened to access the far field which has a burn, which has so far, never frozen. But it has been close, so a 20 minute trudge through the snow to check water was flowing commenced. And in the mean time, let’s not forget the hens. Nor the dog. Or the mini crofters. The clean washing pile was deemed a non essential service and still seems to be suffering the aftermath.

So it was back on one of those days, between two children becoming ill, that I took ill. And was in bed. So the SOS lifelines were called. The dog went down to one set of neighbours, another checked the cows and chickens. And another popped up at tea time to feed the boys their tea (who had managed on cheerios and youtube). And to add a wee cherry on the top, a water filter at the polytunnel decided the situation was just too much, and burst.

The water pressure at the house raised the red flag. The burst pipe hunt began and once the flooded polytunnel was spotted, the repair work began. And it highlighted how much of a maze of pipe work we have, and how hard it is to find anything when it’s three feet under snow.

So the music tempo changed. And along came Elvis and his ghetto. But adapted, to fit the scene. The song, with their rewritten lyrics had been forgotten about until today.

As I cleared a path to the pickup, checked the cows, and attempted to get the boys ready for school, the song came back.

As the snow lies

On a cold and dreich December mornin’

Another water pipe begun to freeze

In the byre (In the byre)

And the crofter cries,

‘Cause if there’s one thing that she don’t need

It’s another job that needs some heed

In the byre (In the byre)

People, don’t you understand

The woman needs a glass of wine,

Or a two week trip to where that sun shines

Have a look for Timbukto

And in her dreams you find her there.

But now we find the schools been shut

And have more work to do

Well, the weather turns

And a soaking crofter with a runny nose

Works in the snow as the cold winds blow

At the byre (At the byre)

And her hungry burns

So she starts to roam the fridge at night

While she dreams of spring

And she dreams of light

In the byre (in the byre)

So now, the snow swirls around outside. The pick-up already covered again in snow. The school run never attempted after the messages arrived of adverse weather and school closure. And the gentle strumming from Elvis softly plays as I dream of spring.