farmers holiday

Farmers don't have holidays
I think most people knew
After 30 years without one
farmer George thought he was due


where to go he wondered
throwing darts at a map
But trying to get to Timbuktu
would stress an enterprising chap


Timbuktu Has had a drought
for twenty years or more
so with imminent global warming
those folk should know the score


George found a cheap flight
the terms seemed quite severe
it wouldn't allow cows on board
nor sheep, goats, or deer


as for his trusty sheep dog
they seemed a tad unkind
the only way that he could fly
was if George went blind


packed up his clothes in a feed bag
of fifty shades of green
hanging outside he hung wellies
never have they been so clean


stopped at check in security
for committing a crime
in the deep recess of is pockets
his knife and some baler twine


luggage search to destruction
secreted and hidden away
fencing pliers, staples and split pins
foot shears and purple spray


fourteen days of interrogation
hoping that he will tell
the members and the accomplices
of his murderous terrorist cell


released to care in the community
to his croft in mud and more rain
to rip up his holiday brochures
he won't try a holiday again

Farmers weekly

It's that time of the week
the family all dread
There will be no mischief
till the Farmers Weekly's read
Farmer Brown flicks the pages
his rages never fail
when he comes upon the page
of farms up for sale


that well appointed property
in a vale of verdant green
where no rusty tractors
or old machinery to be seen
sheep in adjacent field
well shorn no patch of bald
no sign of scour at the back
no foot rot or scald


the cattle in the pasture
well fed and straight of back
with a shiny coat and healthy
all his cross-breds lack
there are poultry in the farm yard
no droppings or bits of straw
unlike Browns scrawny critters
pecking at the door


the farm is so attractive
a sale there's bound to be
to the just plain lucky
of the peasantry
Browns farm was just like this
before he bought a cow
so many years of falling prices
who would buy it now?

shearing

June is round the corner

A busy time of year

With little chance of frost at night

And many sheep to shear

Looking for machine oil

To keep shear blades dandy

In the junkyard of the byre

For things that come in handy

.

The dagging shears with rusty blades

Electric clippers stuck

A few choice words of wisdom

Will start them with some luck

The sheep line up in terror

As enthusiasm fades

All except the first two

Will need iodine first aid

.

The shear line becomes blurred

The back begins to ache

Not employing shearers

Has been a big mistake

A hot bath awaits you

To ease labours of the croft

Lanolin smell pervades the house

The day your hands are soft

Treasure of the Andes (1993)

Lockdown

The lock down

The day before lockdown I developed chills then a high fever. The fever lasted 4 days coming out in time to see Kathy go down with it. Was it the dreaded Covid-19? We don't know but health has not returned. Both are feeling physically drained with sore throat aches and pains in joints and lymph glands.

So what mischief have we been up to in our rural idle?

When the government announced that dentist would be closed. That was just the trigger the fillings needed to make a great evacuation. Kathy has rumbling pains in the mouth, but my vacant fillings are painless sharp holes to tempt the tongue to flagellate. Oh the joys of soup.

With no shops to deliver cheese to, we can spend the time repairing the fencing. Building a colditz for hens and Stalag 3 for the pigs. We keep watching for odd behaviour with the pigs and am sure they have started another tunnel. I can't remember placing a wooden horse in the field.

Pigs Boris and Trump in the sunshine

The weather has its own problems. We went from bog to desert in just a few days. The warm weather is very welcome, but grass is hard to come by. The goats have made their demands, no milk without grass. Much in the same vein as America's no taxation without representation. As we do not really need the milk it is a bit of a stand off. I think they are planning a mass die off as a protest (a trick they learnt from sheep).

We have 3 kids this year so far. Flora and Fern are due in May and will probably be their last mating, unless they know better. Of the kids 2 are male and one female. The males are in good shape and hope they will be able to work in September. Last year Fern had quintuplets and Flora had quads. We expect our bottle feeding will triple overnight.

Remains of the leylandi branches broken off in the storm.

Otto born March 2020 first outing

                                                                                      

This years kids begin with 'O' the males are Otto and Otis. The female is Oleander. The females have to be biological, the male names can be anything male or otherwise. Last years kids are doing OK. Nettle is working on her book 1001 ingenious escapes.

Oleander, Oatis and Otto

The dry weather is affecting the slug population. We have seed trays in the greenhouse, wide spacing as per government advice, and the space between liberally coated in egg shells and coarse grit. I have no illusions that this will deter slug attacks, fully expecting a total crop loss. In times of lock down, exercise is important. An obstacle course of rough surfaces should keep the slugs fit and healthy on the way to a light lunch of lettuce sproutings.

Most families are discovering the kitchen during lock down. Kathy has everything under control food wise. She is well aware of my Brown, green and Yellow sludge that I can concoct from harmless vegetables. An abundance of eggs has been the major contributor to tasty meal times. We don't use them! We barter them with our neighbours, for cakes, bread, and pesto.

As for the poultry we have broody geese, and hens. The incubator is full of turkey eggs and guinea fowl eggs. Our luck they will be all males.

Life would be boring without some light hearted competition. To lighten the moment, we have a contest, who can last longest without shouting at the television. I was doing quite well until Matt Hancock, the unhealth minister, tried to explain the perceived lack of PPE. 42.3 seconds before I lost it.

It is encouraging to know the supermarkets think we are fit and healthy. Home delivery is out of the question for us sprightly 70s+ . Kathy hits the supermarket once every 10 days or so in silly old farts hour. Her eye catching rubber gloves will soon need face protection. At last the world war II gas mask may come in handy, even if it is for a dog!

Speaking of dogs, the hour exercise is dog walking time. A chance to sample the fresh air between dung spreading. The pot holes in the road make a useful long jump course for the dogs. Wildlife is abundant, with bees and butterflies. MacDonald food containers are less of an eyesore as is the bags of dog excrement hanging from low hanging trees.

Dougie and Molly practising social distancing

                                                                                   

We are hoping for a continuation of good weather, and who knows we may even collect a bee swarm this year.

Like many families in the lockdown we have a double lock on the knife draw!

Hope everyone survives the lockdown safely be careful and take care. Remember you are never more than 6 queues from a hand sanitizer

ps does any one want a DO NOT RESUSITATE tee shirt, unwanted present!

Christmas on the croft

t's Christmas on the croft
the family gather round
to look in awe at the luxuries
that the Pound shop has found

the bird is tough on carving
impossible to chew
it should of hung for another week
or made into stew

the pudding needs some cheap brandy
but there isn't any
so they've raided your secret hoard
and smothered it in Remy

board games for the afternoon
Monopoly takes the air
accusing eyes look scornfully
as you promised not to swear

Chocolates do the rounds again
Your favourites can't be seen
you're not fond of drinking coffee
so must love coffee cream?

from the byre is bleating
goat milking must be done
as you rush out for its sanctuary
to escape all the Christmas fun

silence descends on the family
suddenly they are board
you promise to enjoy this Christmas
as you'll spend all the rest abroad

farming year full of woe

The farming year is full of woe

With setback and reverse

You can’t afford the ills we have

Now comes blue tongue curse

The DEFRA yearly survey

That tumbles through the door

You see your well tended stock

is less than the year before

Chickens scratching up the land

Treasure seeking lot

Very few now lay an egg

And too thin for the pot

Poultry is a mugs game

But one day could be a winner

When Delia does a recipe

For roast fox Christmas dinner