Speaking of havoc

 So here we have two innocent horses enjoying the sun?
Or?
No: here we have two horses who, for the first time today, have become true friends. For the first time, that is, since Max died. That's 18 months. How do we know that?
Well; the mark of true friendship between horses is that they nuzzle and chew each other's withers and backs. Especially in sunny hot weather when the flies

 are biting.
It's hot now and they need each other because one place they cannot reach themselves is the tops of their own backs and necks. For that they need a friend. There's only the two of them. So needs must. Rocco's eaten humblepie (he'd never admit to needing Ritz) and Ritz is smiling to himself because he's wise and he knew Rocco would give in, in the end.... So, Rocco is now on Ritz's side - sort of . Thus in this next photo Ritz is boldly putting his  neck over the electric fence (knowing it's not on) and Rocco is sniffing it gingerly to check if Ritz is right. Rocco muct have been seriously stung by electric before he came here cos he's always been very very wary of it...

Then here we have Ritz turning his back on the electric wire as if to say that he doesn't give a damn.
And he doesn't.
Later on this afternoon when we were all occupied with unloding two tonne of pig feed Ritz decided he'd had enough of the sun and flies. He barged straight through the electric fence 'gate'.
First thing we knew he was trotting into the orchard.... closely pursued by Rocco.
Linda and I went to fetch them; they were in high spirits, spooking at us and cantering round, ducking and diving around the trees and flower beds to evade us. Rocco was particularly animated. Well, he'd been vey brave - going against his instincts and following Ritz put him in unknown territory so he was a little bit scared and therefore nervous and therefore flighty. He got into quite a sweat. They were in a mood to gallop round the garden all afternoon. I decided discretion was the better part of valour and fetched a bucket of horse nuts. Rocco was so relieved to have a good reason to come to me - Ritz was just happy to have some food!
He got his wish though: we put them in their stables away from the nasty biting flies: we may love the sun but for them it is hell - the flies are unrelenting and attack in those places where the horse can least easily brush them off. As usual, Mr Ritz spread a little bit of havoc and got his own way.....

As I said

First they're nibbling food from their mum's bowl. Then they're eating food from their own bowl; "Mum isn't the only source of food?" they suddenly think....
Then they're off.
"The little Flowers were out this afternoon" reported Linda before going home at the end of the day.
It won't be many days before they're trotting everywhere and causing their own kind of havoc!
As I said --- like clockwork...

Like clockwork

You can almost set your clock by a piglet's development.  Here we are, exactly three weeks on since Truffle's Little Flowers were farrowed and they have their noses in their mum's  bowl. They may not be eating too much but come the end of the week they'll have developed a taste for it and then they'll be as eager as she is come mealtimes.

It's also time they were out, running about and meeting the rest of the herd. To which end  this afternoon I removed some the obstacles to their exit routes from the pen. Won't be many days before I'll be showing pictures of their escapades!

Delinquent to wow visitors

 "She's the smallest sow we've ever had at Elsham" said Pirjo, ace runner and keeper of all things animal at said estate.
Small she may be but Andromeda is big on character. The nice Mr Thompson, her minder whilst she was visiting the very handsome J.D., advised us on more than a few occasions that she was forever moving house - of her own accord. Not least the day before farrowing her last litter after he'd decided to put her in a nice pen with a new ark and lots of bedding. Wasn't good enough for Andromeda. Soon as his back was turned she hopped over the fence and in with another sow, presumably a friend, and promptly farrowed there the following night.
She's the original Delila's Delinquent (see blog 24.3.10) and was always a bit of a handful. Many was the time The Bestest Gundog was despatched to retrieve her, and her litterpals, from the far end of the field before they were weaned! They were the litter that taught us all about free range piglets!
She's not tried any pen hopping since she's been home

but since she is rather fond of standing up at the fence or gate so we have all become familiar with the sight of her tummy.   And a very nice compact bodypart it is. In the past few weeks she's gone from being just a little rounded to being distinctly lightbulb shaped so we're keeping fingers crossed that she is in pig to Samson.
That's why she's gone up to Elsham. We're hoping that she'll have her next litter of piglets there to Wow their visitors. In the meantime, she'll love having her back and her ears scratched frequently and often. In this photo she's just giving the transport a critical once-over.... she was a little reluctant to board first thing Monday morning but The Big Boss persuaded her it was a better place to be and, with the temptation of breakfast en route, she soon complied.
Before long she'll become the Main Attraction.......

Summer -good and bad

 Declaring the drought and announcing a virtually nationwide hosepipe ban had the desired effect. The rain gods were propitiated. Without hesitation they all withdrew their industrial action and returned with a vengeance -making up for lost time.
We mere mortals should be well satisfied. Not only are the aquifers, ponds, rivers and reservoirs full but we have surplus water everywhere. From where we now stand, sit or swim, we are wallowing in their largesse. Never again shall we insult them by suggesting they had packed up caring for us and gone away on long leave. In future times when we feel we are short of a drop, or even a bucket full, we will keep stumm. Counties, countries, continents will conspire to welcome little or no rain. We shall await the offerings of the Rain Gods with patience and humility. Honest -we will.   In the meantime we must look for the good amongst the bad.     So the swallows

 which were so late in arriving have made their nests and hatched their first broods. The sky around and between The Old Rectory and its outbuildings has been filled these past few days with the chirrupping sounds of young fledgelings on their preliminary flying sorties.Other good news is that Truffle's brood of Summer Flowers are growing stronger by the day. On the downside, they have yet to play outside in the sunshine. They venture  gingerly to the doorstep of the ark, occasionally a little further, but Truffle soon herds them indoors again. Maybe, like us, they look out and wonder: "Will it ever stop raining?"  Elsewhere around RectoryReserve the porcine herd are wishing pigs could fly instead of having to wade through ever increasing amounts of muck. We wish that for them too. At this time of year they should be recovering from the winter; spending lazy sunny days mooching and gruntling and wallowing and scratching. Instead they are dragging their bodies through the mire. I imagine them looking up at the endless grey skies and snorting: "Enough! The joke is over! We don't like mud that much!".   Elsewhere, though, nature is benefitting from such generous watering. The berries are filling up on the bushes. Too wet to pick unfortunately. The grass is 6ft high and lush but it is far too wet to harvest for hay. We hear tales of a local farmer whose crop lays rotting on the ground. The
price of a bale next winter will be prohibitive for many. Cases of abandoned horses and ponies will escalate.  The effects of so much rain will ricochet well into the future. Today I walked the dogs in the wildflower meadow and smiled at the abundance of flowers and thistles; is it just my imagination or are they more varied and colourful than in previous years? Perhaps I am just looking for something pretty amongst all the gloom. For gloom enough there is: The Great Yorkshire Show was cancelled after the first day today - the first time ever for weather reasons. Closer to home a Food Fayre was cancelled at the weekend; a well regarded country show a fortnight back was totally waterlogged; we have more markets, shows, food fayres coming up. How to plan? How to budget? How to provision. The list seems endless. The weather plays havoc in ways other than the obvious.

Nature has a way of balancing out - eventually. We have to believe that the sun will return and with it maybe some balmy breezes to hasten the drying out of field, pen, house........

For now though Pilot's look says what we all feel.
Stop the rain; the joke is over; the wettest drought in history is no longer funny. Let's just get back to normal. Please.
Or - someone up there please advise - is now the time to be building the Ark??

The naming of Truffle's

Continuing from the previous - it didn't take too long to come up with a name for Truffle's little family. What with Rosie being here when they were born and the fact that it's high summer (so why doesn't the weather know that?????) we've decided to name them the Summer Flowers. One, naturally, will be called Rose but we'll wait with the naming of the others till we know how many boys and how many girls there are. Until they venture out of their ark we'll not really be able to discover that. Unfortunately, if it continues to pour that may take a few days. Meantime, they're better off staying in the cosy warmth with mum......

Mini truffles

 Rosie's here on work experience for a couple of weeks and I told her that it looked like Truffle would farrow on time so there was a good chance she'd see some new piglets before the end of the week. When I looked closely at Truffle yesterday though I couldn't help thinking it was going to be sooner rather than later. So I told Rosie to gather some sticks as she was doing her rounds today because Truffle might well be needing them to make her nest!
It's always strange when a sow doesn't come out of her ark at mealtimes. "Aye Aye" I said to myself when Truffle didn't appear for breakfast this morning. I climbed over the gate, tiptoed quietly

across and peered in through the doorway. Sure enough, there she was with a bunch of little squiglets happily suckling. They were still very tiny and topply wobbly so I'd guess they were born in the early hours of the morning.
Clever girl. She hadn't bothered with a nest, just re-arranged the straw. And the eight little ones - 2 swallowbellies and 6 blondes - were cosy as could be. This second photo was taken at 2pm and already they all look stronger - shortly beforehand one of the blondes had been peering inquisitively out of the door - before tottering back to pile up with its brothers and sisters.
Now.... what are we going to name this lot........????