O warmes, warmes sonnenlicht

Lack of posting recently, partly because of medical circumstances getting in the way, and partly because there was nothing very dramatic to report.

After periods of drought, followed by deluge, followed by a long, cold winter, the weather recently has been incredibly uneventful. Periods of sun, followed by a bit of rain, followed by a bit more sun, and temperatures just about normal, everything just, well ....... nice. The trees have grown a bit more. The grass has grown, with the sheep keeping it under control. The nettles have grown, of course, but a bit of strimming now and again keeps them down.

Until this week. Now it's hot. Certainly hot enough for the sheep to take to their shelter and start shedding wool in great clumps of the stuff. They are being careful not to run about too much during the day, and we are trying not to disturb them because the presence of a human is likely to make them run about.

Carrot, looking shorn

What has happened is that the most junior sheep, Carrot and Custard, shed their fleece quite early. It's probably the first time they've done this. The others are in varying stages of deshabille, and are looking a bit like part-shorn poodles (with horns, obviously). 

Sheep and shelter - not shared around!

What tends to happen is that volume of fleece tends to denote status: Blodwen, the bossy one who stamps her hoof if the ewe nuts aren't being put out fast enough, has the most wool, and the youngest ones have moulted the most. The younger pair are also sometimes outside the shelter, when the others are inside, which seems hard.

The trees, let's not forget them, are being given extra water, in case the current conditions last longer. You have to think ahead. It's really warm sunshine, so here's the prisoner's chorus from Fidelio that's even better than the well known prisoner's chorus on the subject:

Some growth

Well, it's the end of May, and not a lot of growth apart from nettles. So, strim, strim and strim again.

But we do have a small amount of apple blossom. Nothing on the other trees.

Plums and Quince went straight to leaf, but they are growing. They are still barely more than sticks with foliage, but we can see how they should develop.

The winter was so hard that we are still feeding the sheep with hay, which we weren't expecting. At some point we will have to put up some kind of covering for winter feed on the land, since storing bales in the garden shed has been mightily inconvenient. 

The sheep themselves are quite unworried, and know that noises from the house mean that ewe nuts should he available soon. Other than that, we're trying to open up more of the land so that the sheep can get in and start grazing. Every time we keep them out of a paddock, so that grass can grow or strimmed material has a change to mulch down, they are impatient to get in there and find out what's happening.

But more growing should happen over the next few months.

Inter-species communication.

Still not much growing, just the odd bud coming through on the trees and some new grass coming through the ground in patches, like a teenage boy's first face-fuzz.

So most entertainment is coming from the livestock. Carrot, the youngest sheep, has been seen chasing one of the neighbour's cats, and it was definitely a game. Cat trotted off, but was careful not to get too far ahead and looked behind her to check that Carrot was still playing catch.

That was last Saturday. The following morning, we saw all six of the flock sunning themselves, lying on the ground with legs outstretched, with about a dozen Jackdaws hopping on and off them, picking wool off their backs. And apparently quite happy. Our first thoughts were of sharp-billed Oxpeckers and Rhinos in Africa. The Savannah this is definitely not, but apparently Jackdaws do habitually jump on the backs of sheep and cause no problem.

But something has to start growing soon. The sheep are getting very bored of hay.

Spring is spring, the grass is riz .... er, hang on!

By now, we were expecting to have been reporting on new growth, buds, leaves, etc on the trees. Not a bit of it. After a week of the satirically-named British Summer Time, we still have biting east winds and sub-zero temperatures. The amount of growing that's been done is .... zero.

The sheep are not pleased. They still get a diet of hay, and they're very, very bored with it. Another part of the land was seeded with grass in February, but hasn't produced anything, and we're worried that it may not at all.

Ho hum. Here's hoping for better in a week or two.

Blandings-in-Cotswold?

Not a lot happening in the orchard still, with a cold winter delaying the next growth spurt for the trees. The sheep still need regular drops of hay and ewe nuts to keep them going.

So - what about some fictional husbandry, i.e. Blandings? It's come in for a lot of criticism from people who don't think it looks right, but it grew on us as the series went on. Timothy Spall doesn't look anything like depictions of the Earl of Emsworth on the front covers of the Penguin editions from the 1970s, that many of us grew up with. But if you think that he has a younger son of about 20, then mid-50s seems about the right age. And he does do bewildered very well, as he does most things. The real problem is that Jennifer Saunders isn't remotely frightening enough for Lady Constance. The original character is in the Aunt Agatha class of intimidating grandes dames.

But what links Blandings with our own plot?

• The Earl of Emsworth is devoted to his livestock, especially the Empress of Blandings. Richard and Sarah are constantly fussing over the sheep.
• The Earl of Emsworth has a completely disorganised desk, as does Richard - the archaeological method of filing has its uses.
• The Earl of Emsworth has innumerable nieces, as do Richard and Sarah, well 3 anyway.
• The Earl of Emsworth wouldn't go anywhere near the house of Lords. Come to think of it, that puts him in good company with most people.
• The Earl of Emsworth is constantly bewildered by the inane witterings of gormless 20-somethings. And Richard has just got through a batch of undergraduate exams.

So - no butlers, no East Wings, but something of Blandings spirit.

And with luck, things will start growing soon.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it ......

Well, all right, it's only been 3 inches of the stuff. Relatives from habitually snowbound places like Canada, Scotland and, errrr, Cambridgeshire, can scoff. But it's been a dramatic week. The sheep have been posing for what, if we get out act together, will be next years Christmas card:

Why can't we get at the grass, then?

They've been getting noticeably woollier, and have reacted to snow with all the calm and tolerance of a habitual fruit cake-eater at Christmas, i.e. wondering why what they usually eat is covered with all the superfluous white stuff. They've been seen digging holes in the snow to get at the grass, while Sarah has been upping their hay rations.

Apple, a fit and healthy sheep!

Their health has also been an issue. Apple, following her attentions from the vets, recovered very quickly. But that meant we had to get the rest of them wormed. And the beautiful white carpet of snow was chewed up very quickly as the vets came and tried, with Sarah, to round them all up (the only day they could come, Richard had to be in London - or so he said!). Up and down, and up and down they went, much to the amusement of the neighbours. This lot can spot a gap between the advancing humans and go through it like a dose of salts!


Fortunately, they were all rounded up and done, eventually. Other than that, it's a matter of keeping them fed. We've bought a hay bale, which is so large it occupies most of the garden shed, and we're gradually working our way through it before spring comes. We're acquiring a new respect for farmers, who have to do this for many times more animals than we do, and must feel completely at the mercy of the elements.

Get stuck in, Girls!

Beyond that, we are contemplating whether or not Timothy Spall, as the Earl of Emsworth, makes a convincing livestock keeper. Still pondering. More on this at a later date.

Sheep-hoo-o-o-o-ey!

What a week! It's freezing cold now, though actually with nothing like the snow that the rest of the country has. But the drama as 7 days ago, when one of our sheep was ill - our first livestock crisis. Apple (pale-faced blonde) stopped moving around as much as the others and was right off her food.

It was all rather like the Empress of Blandings refusing to eat because all was not right with the world. Unfortunately, there is no equivalent of the universal hog call, Pig-hoo-o-o-o-ey!, for sheep. We needed, first a vet, and then, when between 3 of us we'd been unable to get hold of her, a vet plus a student. Off her food, Apple might have been, but she could still move around.

And even then, when trying to corner the sheep, another of them bolted and leapt over the inner fence, that's meant to protect some hedging we've put down from being munched. That's a 4-foot jump from virtually a standing start. This lot can move.

Once we got hold of Apple, the vet suspected liver fluke, and after some medication was inserted up the backside (very disrespectful!) she was better within a day.

We also get some very good information from the vet about how difficult all sheep farmers are finding it at the moment. The rain in summer fell at all the wrong times, which means the hay is poorer quality than it should be, and remaining grass has been all munched out. It's noticeable, just walking around the area, how waterlogged the fields are.

We're tied to the weather now: at the mercy of whatever it does to us.