Demolition...and jumping into deep water.

Three months have flown by since my last entry.  Much has happened.  Lambing came and went in a flurry of days that seemed to blur into nights.  Three of us were on duty and at times we were all standing watching when the action hit, marvelling at nature in its purest form, witnessing the birth of lambs.  It was good fun.  It was elating. Tiring, and at times sad.  But that's the nature of Mother Nature, cruel and kind in the same breath.  On the whole it went smoothly and we had a good success rate, with lots of cute bouncing lambs at the end of it.  The scanning helped enormously and allowed us the confidence to know exactly what to expect...apart from one ewe that was scanned as a single but had a double. 

The small girl was very good; lambing dominated her Easter holidays and as a result we didn't get out and about much at all.  Instead, we lived between the lambing shed and the farmhouse kitchen consuming flapjacks and lots of cups of tea.

She did her fair share of helping too.  Her job was to carry the lambs out of the lambing shed into the nursery paddock after their first few days of life.  Once they had been tagged and tailed (and castrated if necessary) they were turned out into the big wide world to do what lambs do.  Suckle, pronk and gamble.

Now, many weeks later our lambs are nearing 30 kilos in weight.  We are waiting to hit the magic number to be market ready.  Then, off they go on their next journey, a one way ticket.  Its all part of the plan.  Its one of the other slightly sad bits to this vocation.  At least we know our lambs have been raised healthy and happy.  And they taste good too!
 
And to the other side of the farm that's been dominating the last month....our building work.  It took an age to get to the point where we were ready to sign the contracts, and as soon as we did we booked the removals, packed up the farmhouse, and rehomed ourselves in the cottage. 

The builders arrived in a flurry of machinery and made quick work of gutting the farmhouse.  The electrics need a full rewire, as does the plumbing...they wouldn't pass building regulations in their current state.  The ground workers set to work a week later, beginning with demolition.  I felt a pang of regret and sadness watching the Cob barn turn to dust.  She was a majestic old lady with many tales to tell no doubt, but crumbling at the seams with no foundations and rotting roof timbers.  Many attempts over the years had been made to patch her up, including a concrete ring beam on the top of the walls to support the roof timbers.  This was her final death bell as it only served to compromise the cob further and condemned her to demolition.

The great thing is we can salvage many materials from her, most importantly the cob.  We have another smaller cob barn, the Ologist's workshop and machine storage which is in dire need of a facelift.  The old lady signed her organ donor card with all the boxes ticked and we get to salvage and reinvent her in other ways on the farm. 

The enormous cob barn doors will be rehung on our hay barn, giving the ponies and sheep greater shelter in the winter.  Some of the roofing joists and timbers will be used for raised beds in the kitchen garden. All of the stone has been cleaned and set aside ready for stone walling.   It is part of the cycle of life.  It is important to move with the times and not be held back by pure sentiment.  What will stand in her place will be more suitable to this farm as it is today.  Our acreage won't support the farm with stock or crops alone, we need something else to make it sustainable, hence the holiday units. 

The first week of demolition coincided with the June heat wave across the UK.  We had been watching our hay, and made a call to cut and bale it that week.  We had already lined up a local farmer to help us, and so the day came and in glorious sunshine - 30 degree heat - we made hay.  The Ologist purchased a hay bob last year in time for haymaking so he could turn the hay ad lib until it was ready.  This means that the farmer only has to visit us twice; once to mow and once to bale.  We learnt the hard way from our first year here when we were relying on contractors to make our hay and it wasn't turned enough so when it came to baling we ended up with wrapped haylage - not much use to us. 


This year the hay bob did its job, and in fact the Ologist turned a few other fields locally that day for the farmer in return for the mowing.  We called our knight in shining armour to rescue us at the end of the day - he's a strong young local chap of herculean proportions and we were very pleased to receive his help with lifting and stacking bales after an exhausting day.  We now have a barn full of top quality sweet meadow hay.  Our reward was a swim in the pond!  I now cannot keep the small girl out of the pond.  She started off more than a little squeamish about the squishy clay and the weeds - now all it needs is a sunny afternoon and the pester power wins.  The millions and millions of tadpoles have now turned into frogs, however we see not one frog bizarrely enough.  The newt eggs have all but hatched and gone, and once we are sure of this we will get in and clear some of the weed to make way for summer swimmers.


We have managed to get through our lambing this spring  with only one tame lamb.  We found a dead ewe one morning and she left behind a four week old ram lamb.  It is touch and go at that age whether they would survive on their own; we spoke to some local experienced sheep farmers who suggested getting the lamb onto a bottle.  It took us a few days, but within a week he would come running as soon as he saw us in the field.  The small girl would do the evening milk feed on her return from school.  The dog would hang about and lick the lamb clean of milk droplets.  Win-win for all involved.


Work has also started in our kitchen garden.  This area is not on the contract, as such, but our Chief on the ground working team knows that we need a concrete base poured, which means a bit of levelling is to be done.  He's smart.  He knows that on site there is always some downtime when another contractor is late on delivery and the digger drivers are waiting about patiently to begin the job.  He has a number of our 'extras' up his sleeve in case of delay.  Also on a big job as this, there is a scale of economies whereby it is always better to order a full truck of readymix rather than only ordering the exact amount required.  He knows we will always find a space for a cube or two of cement.  Fortunately over the weekend we pegged out where my garden shed will go - for gardening endeavours, animal feeds, machine storage etc... So yesterday was my lucky day and I got the ground levelled and half the base poured with excess readymix.  We have two more major foundations to lay so it will take a while, but it looks like I'll get my department after all. 



I am feeling a little bereft as 'My Department' on the farm has gone.  Its been demolished.  It was my space.  Known as the Growing Room, it was not just the place I grew tomatoes but much, much more.  It was a ramshackle breeze block former pig weaning unit, with cracks in the walls and a draughty see-thru ceiling.  Not particularly glamorous or aesthetic in looks, but while I made cuttings and potted up plants, lots of life decisions were poured over in there.  It was my haven.  It is important to have your own space to go to.  To do what you want there, and to have free head-space.  We all need it.   The new shed is promised, funds permitting, but at least I can see the foundations for it are being laid - literally.

It is all go, go, go here.  Hopefully it wont be three months again before I get to update on progress.  We are on countdown to the summer holidays.  I have one ambition.  To be brave enough to jump off the jetty into the deep water....dare care to join me?