Rectory Reserve

STOP PRESS!

2012-01-25T16:27:00.000Z

To Precious and Samson this afternoon from 2pm onwards - 11 squiggly piglets. Full report and photos to follow

Waiting....

2012-01-23T21:43:00.000Z

We're waiting for Precious to have her piglets. She started making her nest yesterday. Best part of a bale of straw and lots of different size sticks. Spent most of the moring at it.
"We'll have piglets within 24 hours" I told the boss confidently when I came in.
I crept round in the dark after evening stables last night; listened outside her ark.
"No piglets yet" I reported when I went up to bed.
This morning she was late up for breakfast. Most unlike her. So I crept quietly up to the ark and saw her fast asleep in her lovely fresh straw bed --- alone.
"No piglets yet" I reported before leaving with The Bestest Gundog for another day in the field.
Rushed round when we got back this afternoon. Finding Linda in the stables changing Ritz's rug: "Any sign of piglets?" I asked. "Nah, she's having us all on; been trotting round her pen most of the afternoon but she's looking very 'due' ".
So we're still waiting.
In the absence of pictures of little piglets I thought I'd include this photo of a beautiful Lincolnshire sunset over South Ormsby, taken last Wednesday as The Bestest etc. and I were leaving after a day's 'work' over there. Nothing at all to do with piglets.
But then, nor is Precious at the moment!

Hesitation....Repetition....Nature's way

2012-01-17T17:56:00.000Z

It is said that 4 or so days after weaning the sow comes in season and is ready to mate again. Delila was weaned last Tuesday and moved back to Samson three days later. They were in no great hurry to catch up on the news of the previous 3 months getting on first with the important things in life.... dinner, checking out the premises etc. On Saturday, like a long married couple, they were meandering about together, enjoying the sun but otherwise just chilling and chomping. Same again Sunday.

Yesterday was a different story. Samson was not particularly interested in his breakfast. "Aha" I thought.
Sure enough, after Delila had finished all the food he started following her round like a lap-dog. Whenever he got the opportunity he nudged her in the belly - "Hey, you, here I am" he seemed to be saying.

She ignored him. He hesitated, thought things over then pursued and nudged and pursued again.

She ignored him. He nudged some more. She moved away, trying to ignore him. They might be a long married couple but she'd no intention of making it easy for him. Well.... not too easy.

Then he stopped hesitating and became quite insistent. "Oh, I didn't realise you were being serious" she said, turning in the direction of the ark. He followed. She went in. He followed. She looked out the door and disappeared inside. He looked out the door and disappeared inside. Soon she came out. Followed by him.

They wandered across to me at the gate where they each had a drink and a nuzzle. "See" he seemed to say "I won her round - again".

He's such a charmer.

There was no hesitation next time. She turned; he nudged; she walked back to the ark, he followed...... For all I know they may have repeated the ritual all afternoon but I left them to it - no need to be nosy,

"Samson & Delila have been at it!" exclaimed Linda when we caught up with her this afternoon. We were off to the saw mill. When we returned and were unloading she chirpily told us they'd repeated the process again when she was doing Tea Rounds. So she's recorded it in the Hog Book.

The cycle continues.... a coy hesitation then repetition.... no worries.... just nature's way......

Repetition, hesitation, deviation?

2012-01-17T14:36:00.000Z

Apart from gale force winds it's been a very quiet start to 2012. With the pork provisioner not attending any markets till (or "while" as they say in Lincolnshire) 20th January there's been no need for to-ing and fro-ing. However, piglets being weaned reminds us that there are other cycles to attend to. Hence Friday 13th was the first of the new year's Pig Movement Days. Lots were planned; the 6 'Victorian' hoglets had to be transported from the barn to their new rented premises a dozen or so miles away. That entailed moving the one gilt - Victoria - in with the Merkel the Ferkel et all (EU Leaders litter) - a feat which under normal circumstances would have required at least two humans. But who cares for normal. Linda hefted Victoria out of the barn and across to the stalls, hardly hesitating to draw breath (actually, she admitted to questioning her actions half way but by then it was, as they say "Too late" to buzz anyone.....).
So, Hoglets loaded and off without a hitch. Settled at other end, instructions left for the care and the removal team were back here within minutes of The Bestest Gundog and I returning from another day in the field.

Next job was to part Scrabble from Samson. The hurdle channel was meticulously constructed to ensure Scrabble knew where to go. Two judiciously placed bowls of food saw her journey' accomplished with hardly a moment's hesitation. "Why did we need to set up all these Hurdles?" asked somebody. I think it was Conley. Scrabble was quickly transported up to the woods; she happily trotted out of the trailer into her new pen without hesitation or deviation; snout hardly leaving her bowl - eyes maybe lifting for a second to register new surroundings.Maybe.But actually, I doubt it! Hurdles packed up - a bit repetitive this -and everyone back to the Church Field to move Delila up to Samson. Another hurdle channel constructed. As you can see, Delila wasn't hanging about. I think she'd have jumped over the gate if it'd been less gloopy on her side. She positively ran into the trailer -Linda and the bowl of food may have motivated her but I think she'd have gone regardless. No deviation; no hesitation. Hurdles packed up and removed to Samson's pen entrance. Sturdy construction built (Repetition). Delila out of trailer and straight through gate without looking left or right. Again no H or D. Maybe raised her eyes a moment to acknowledge where she was but I can't honestly say I noticed! Food over and it off to check out who'd been sleeping in her ark and then it was "Hello Samson, nice to see you again".

"What did we need these hurdles for?" somebody - probably Tony that time, asked........... Packed them up and moved the whole kit and caboodle up to Darbie and Joan's pen. ( More repetition)..... Another hurdle channel constructed from pen to trailer. Opened gate and down they jumped (thanks to the mud there was a height difference of at least 18 inches between inside and outside pen!) and trotted on to the trailer with only minor deviation by Darbie. May have had something to do with the foodbowl they were following. On the other hand I think they were ready for a new adventure. Still we packed up the hurdles and took them up to the woods with the trailer transporting the two girls. Repetition. Reconstructed the secure hurdle channel from trailer to pen gate. Opened trailer and out they trotted - with just a little urging from Tony but only because they were still happily chewing on their food - and followed Linda into their new pen without further hesitation or deviation. Hurdles not required. "They just provide that extra little bit of security" said the boss when somebody else questioned (Linda?) why we'd bothered with the hurdles........

Thanks to the amenable nature of our pigs and the slick synchronisation by us humans all that lot was achieved in just over an hour and a half. Why do people always think things go wrong on Friday 13th? I haven't a clue.

Done and dusted

2012-01-12T21:23:00.000Z

Before going off to the 'office' on Tuesday with The Bestest Gundog I opened the old stalls door. The wandering piglets were wandering more than they were at home - even followed me up the drive on Monday afternoon. So I thought that the open door might get them investigating and when it came to weaning it would be easier to get them to go in there! Came home Tuesday afternoon and noticed a light on in the Stalls:
"All done and dusted." said Linda when she came over. I was surprised: I must have looked surprised; "Oh" it's not too soon is it????" she asked. Well, no. I was just surprised that she'd got it done so easily. "I had a bowl of food and they just followed me in she said." Well, I thought the last lot were easily weaned but this lot were even easier... just walked through the door, snout in bowl, shut the door. Deed done.
Delila didn't even notice....till, oh I don't know, probably not till Wednesday afternoon. When she made a bit of a fuss: as if she'd just noticed the little ones hadn't come home for a while... "Oh, I'd best behave like a sad sow" she thought to herself..... Tomorrow she gets to go back to Samson...I suspect she knows that, which is why she's not so sad to lose the little ones...... Another litter done and dusted she probably thinks to herself.....

Pine tree pasture

2012-01-10T21:04:00.001Z

RectoryReserve continues to expand...if not in one direction then in another! When we moved here twelve or so years ago we tried to acquire a 3 acre strip of pasture bordering our drive. It had previously been attached to the premises but on one occasion of the property being sold, the field remained with the vendor rather than transferring with the remainder of the property to the buyer. Presumably a pricing matter. Our original offer was refused. We made subsequent attempts to no avail, most recently at auction when we were outbid at a ridiculous price. Santa popped up on his travels though and offered it to us out of the blue if we could complete by Christmas. The dust hardly settled under The Boss's feet and before you could say Hay 'n Oats, Ritz & Rocco find themselves grazing in a Totally New Place! Pine Tree Pasture we've called it. We put the electric fence up in a howling gale on Saturday and moved the pair up on Sunday.

Usually when horses moved to a new paddock they gallop around in great excitement, checking the boundaries and looking for aliens. These two are not normal. Ritz put his head down immediately and started eating: Rocco stood as if transfixed; looking out into the horizon to left and right. All day as far as I know. Looking, looking and looking; for what? Blackbirds coming over the hills? (It's said that in ancient times blackbirds were the size of giraffes and horses were the size of rabbits; that's why horses always leap when a bird startles out of a hedge two fields away). Who knows? When I came past on my way back from walking the dogs later in the day Ritz & Rocco cantered purposefully across to the gate. "Take us home" they said. So I did. Very fast. They towed me home; one trying to trot fast than the other, with me in the middle. Same again on Monday. Great excitement coming home. Wanting to come home fast. We think Pine Tree Pasture is great. They think it's scary, new, unsettling, 'far from home' and insecure. Being flight animals, in a new place they are constantly on the lookout for danger - something to flee from. I put them in the familiar confines of The Rectory Field this morning. They galloped around as if relieved to welcome the familiar. "This is better; this is what we know; this is home!" they seemed to be saying. They kicked and bucked and rolled. Relaxed. They'll grow accustomed to Pine Tree Pasture in time; I'll know they're 'at home' there when they go for a good gallop round. Funny things, horses..... you can lead a horse to grass but you can't make him eat.......

Through the kitchen window

2012-01-07T20:26:00.000Z

If you asked them they'd probably say they were just coming up to give some company to the little guy on the stone slab (which incidentally covers the entrance to the well)! If you ask me, it's high time they were weaned! If they are going to start hanging round the house so often they'll be trotting in through the back door as as soon as it's left open. Good job they haven't sussed that there's food in the house or they'd be in already! They're at the stage where every open door is an invitation. Before she left this afternoon Linda had to go in search of 5 of them as they weren't in any of their usual places. As a long shot she looked in the garage - and out they tumbled in relief. They weren't the only ones who were relieved. As is her wont, Linda had left the doors open when she fetched out the lawn tractor which tows the muck trailer. It never crossed her mind, as she shut up later, that the piglets would have gone in there whilst she was otherwise engaged. Well - why would it? I'd guess they were there for a good hour or more...... dread to think what havoc they may have wreaked during their enforced sojourn......... do hope I don't have too many surprises in the morning when I look..... And to think I was smiling as I saw them through the kitchen window.........

Undecorating.........

2012-01-05T20:54:00.000Z

In a daze this afternoon, undecorating the tree, packing away baubles, bells and bunting, mulling over the whethers and whats of New Year resolutions....... something caught my attention on the other side of the window. It didn't register for a few seconds - you know how it is when something's out of context and out of place....... the penny suddenly dropped though - Delila's piglets were looking at me through the glass!

It's almost two weeks since we cut the wire which enabled them to escape from their mum; since then their explorations have taken them ever further afield but this is the first time (that I'm aware of) that they've come to investigate the house! They snuffled everything in sight and chewed everything else and then scampered off

in search of other excitement! Typical piglets.

Following on from the successful weaning of the previous litter we've been feeding this lot in one of the empty stables. They're now becoming very familiar with the routine: so much so that Linda reported this afternoon that they were outside the (closed) stable door waiting for her to serve them their tea ! They've also been visiting the the other weanlings in the barn - no doubt asking them how much they had to pay for their luxurious indoor pad! However, the stalls are now prepared so that at any time over the next week we can shut the stable door whilst they are eating and then carry them off one by one to the stalls........ Since Delila can behave in a most undecorous manner at weaning time, that'll make our lives a lot easier....

Hog-maneigh: Or 'A message from Mangal'

2011-12-31T22:52:00.000Z

"It's not just the humans that reflect at this season of the year: I've been having a bit of a ruminate myself. Me and Bread (Ginger to you all) were having a little chunter whilst chewing the broccoli just this morning. We've a lot to look back on - we've produced 9 families between us since we first met which is no mean feat. The Honeymoon may be over but we're not past it yet - we've been cosing up this past couple of weeks ....well a chap doesn't want to boast but come spring and I'll eat my tail if there's not another brood of mini Mangals running about the place.
And then, as she pointed out, it's not all just about the two of us: there's the other branch of the family. Samson (have to admit he's been a pretty good sort since he moved in here)

with Delila and Precious have produced a fair few porklets between them, not forgetting that little hussie, Aster with her two girls. That's 23 litters between us here at RectoryReserve alone. No wonder there's piglets running around here, there and everywhere. Further afield there's Andromeda and Truffle who've left the Reserve to run with JD. Three piglets there already and another batch any day now. Then there's Gavin and Stacey and their offspring, and Lotos and Bonnie and their families and Polly who's still about these parts too. So the Great Hog alone knows how many little porkies that adds up to.

To think, 4 years ago Ging and I were the first Curly Coats about these parts in decades. Compared with Dodos we were. Humans came from far and wide to admire us.
Now everyone's heard of the Curly Coats of Fulletby. We've been on TV 3 times this year alone: we're represented at many of the best local farmers markets; we're on facebook and twitter (curlycoats07). So, I said to the G-biscuit this morning, "What next?". "Don't you worry your handsome head about that" she said. "Just leave it to the Boss - he'll come up with something." "Our children are our future. We'll leave the rest to him". She's right you know. I've been worrying about this for days and nights and now she's written my Hogmaneigh message for me ; the past is where we come from, the present is where we're at and the children are our future....may yours be as prolific, blessed and merry as Ging and Mine!

Look who's come to dinner

2011-12-27T14:49:00.000Z

How many of us are lucky enough to see mice in the wild? The Bestest Gundog and I see them quite often when we're out on a beating day as they scuttle along the hedge bottoms. But to turn around and find one looking up at you, just like that, is not exactly commonplace.

This little chap was hanging around this afternoon waiting to join the pigs for dinner. He just sat and waited his turn. No wonder feed bills are rising.......Probably does it every day. First time I've noticed him but you'd need to know where to look in order to see him.

When he'd had enough he skidaddled across the mud and off through the fence and down the field to... ....... wherever field mice go to. No wonder Waifa cat was hanging around helping us with teatime chores!!!!!

Present from Santa Mangal

2011-12-26T19:17:00.000Z

We all know that Mangal has a 'thing' about dinner bowls: sacrifices to the Gods 'n all that when Ginger's time to return to him comes round again. Well, he's really excelled himself this Christmas. Look what I saw in the ark this morning! Yep; the remains of a feed sack.
So, if a bowl means "Return, I can propitiate the Gods on your behalf" just think what a whole feed sack must mean! The fact that it was empty when Mangal requisitioned it is neither here nor there: an empty bowl foretells food to follow; an empty sack must at the very least suggest one knows the source of all feed. How more charming could a Boar be. "Worry Never Ginger, I can provide". Now - that must indeed mean a very Merry Christmas and Prosperous New Year to Number one Sow methinks.......

Merry Christmas

2011-12-25T21:08:00.001Z

Nature's Christmas Gift.

Here's hoping you've all had an equally magical day.

Ho Ho Ho

2011-12-24T23:04:00.000Z

"Here I am having a mid-morning rest at work the day before yesterday; humans were all having a bit of a break and sipping some stuff which made some of them a bit wobbly. So I thought I'd have a little lie down in the sunshine. Jolly warm it was too. Thirsty work. It was the last day out before The Important Holiday and most of them, She who must be Etc included, were muttering about how much stuff they had to do before The Big Day. So, I ask you, just why did we finish work so late? Without stopping - and have lunch at the end of the day when it was nearly dark and my tummy was rumbling? Humans!

More funny things. This time last year everything was white and frosty - including my whiskers - and I kept finding hares under the snow everywhere. This year it's taken me all season so far to find just two hares and one rabbit. Well, that's not much to boast about is it? And out in the garden we've got all these things sprouting up through the ground, which is very confusing. I'm looking for pheasants and woodcock and stuff and She keeps muttering about daffodils and primroses.....

And, if that's not funny enough, we have that twinkly tree in the house again. Why do humans bring trees into the house. She spent ages putting twinkly things on it too. And there are parcels and stuff under it but I've sniffed 'em all and they don't seem very interesting. Not smelly enough if you ask me. But she's quite excited about it all so I suppose it must be important for some reason. All this talk about Christmas really doesn't ring any of my bells. But since She's excited I try and understand. Funny though. She said we'd give the little grunty things a special Christmas treat this morning. I don't think they know anything about Christmas. But She and Linda were concerned that the piglets weren't having a chance to get away from the Big Sow that is Delila. Seems they've spent so long tied to their mother's tummy buttons drinking milk that their own tummies have got too big to let them get away through the fence in the usual way. Bliss if you ask me. No piglets running around to worry about. And now it's so muddy in their pen that they really need to get out into the big wide world and learn about other things and meet the rest of the herd - not least the Big Bores with all their Curly Tails of Christmas Past and Future. So She cut a hole in the fence and, nosey little things that they are, it wasn't long before they were out and about and now it won't be long before I have my paws full again...... and I'm supposed to be having a few days off before we're back at work again next week...... some Christmas rest that's going to be. Here I am already keeping an eye on them at feeding time this evening..... my bones tell me it's going to be a busy few weeks ahead.

Anyway, since I'm here and She's a bit busy doing things --- someone came to stay the other day and left what she called an unwanted gift - ---which means she's been making Hot Toddies all day and she's just made another one to take to bed ---- She's asked me to wish you all a Very Merry Christmas and to say that She hopes all your wishes come true and all your pressies are wanted ones....... and now I'm off to see where she put the mince pie for Santa Paws cos all this intellectual stuff makes a dog just a wee bit peckish....... Merry Christmas everybody...."

Easy peasy weanie pigglies

2011-12-14T21:51:00.000Z

"How'd you get on?" I said to Linda on Tuesday when I got back from a day in the Field with The Bestest Gundog.
"Nearly done and dusted" she said "If it's not too late could just do with a hand to close the gate whilst I get the last one away from Ginger".
I thought she was kidding but a quick look into the barn revealed otherwise.
There were 6 of the Victorians snuffling round their new environment!
The little things were so inquisitive that they'd followed me into the stables when I was doing breakfast so I left a note for Linda saying that if they did that with her in the afternoon she should just shut the door and keep them in there till The Boss and I could help her move them later in the afternoon when we were about. Should have known that'd be like a red rag to a bull. They certainly followed her. Six of them have been following her everywhere for the past three weeks or more. So she deftly caught and carried each one single-handedly from feed room or stable to the other side of the barn! No mean feat with porky piglets. It took two of us to carry Number 7 across the yard after Linda had slithered through the squaddy and snatched him from Ginger whilst she was snuffling the last of her supper. She hardly paused as he was dragged from under her snout by a very small, strong, determined hand!
"You must have eaten a double portion of spinach for breakfast" I said to Linda later over a glass of wine with The Boss by the fireside !
Never have our piglets been weaned so easily........

Whither will we wander....

2011-12-12T22:11:00.000Z

Here we are with the promised update. Good thing The Dog knows how to step in from time to time. He's pretty smart as we all know but now he's in his 4th season as a Working Gundog he's become almost psychic - knowing what to do before I even think to tell him. Most of the time that works just fine but there have been more than a handful of occasions when he's been so far ahead of me that he's doing things I'd actually like to stop him doing before he misunderstands what I intended asking him to do. I know he doesn't ever mean to do the wrong thing, it's just that I haven't been able to make clear to him that what he thinks is right isn't quite right in the context of what he's decided for himself to do. You're confused. Anyway working three, sometimes 4, days each week gives plenty of opportunities for rights and if an exuberant, over-eager experienced working dog gets it wrong from time to time we put it down to ........ well, an experienced over-eager spaniel doing his job they way he knows best.

As for what else has been going on. We (Linda and I that is, The Boss being philosophical about these things) bade a sad farewell to Ludo (that's her on the right), Clarence and Aster (below) at the beginning of the month. We'd known for weeks that they were going but when their new owners came to pick them up we realised how much we'd miss them. Ludo is one of the Indoor Games litter born in the snow last November; along with her sisters, Cluedo and Scrabble, she spent a good deal of time indoors so we got closer to them than would have been the case otherwise. When they moved outdoors in the spring they quickly became the noisiest group on the estate (till Darbie & Joanie came along that is!). They all grew into very fine young gilts and, with her distinctive snout markings, Ludo was definitely the strongest of the three. No wonder she was the pick of the bunch for breeding.
Aster and Clarence, meanwhile, had grown into a handsome couple, quite devoted to each other. Though we shall miss breeding from them here it is rewarding to know that they have gone to a home where they'll remain a couple. Aster's already proved herself a first-class mum so she'll surely go on to breed many beautiful litters with Clarence. He, of course, will probably not at all mind sharing some quality time with Ludo whilst Aster is otherwise indisposed. They've all gone to an excellent new home near York and we will be overjoyed to hear the news of tiny trotters in early 2012.
Unlike the Indoor Games, Ginger's present litter - the Victorians - born on 23/4 October - have been rushing around hither and thither almost as much in the past fortnight as the Pork Provisioner! Not unlike the PP there is almost nowhere they won't go! Wherever we look, and even when we don't, there they are - nibbling boots, climbing inside vegetable trugs, rootling in the stables, investigating the chicken pen, stealing corn in the Poultry Palace, following Linda on her tractor down to the end of the Church Field and, here, even digging up the lawn outside the Kitchen window. A nice young man has been feeding the herd breakfast on the occasional mornings recently when The Boss and I have had to leave home before daybreak; on the second occasion the piglets were "running around everywhere" so John spent 45 minutes rounding them up and putting them back in with Ginger! Unfortunately he decided the quickest way with one of them was to pick it up: it squealed, Mum grunted aggressively and that started the whole herd off. All except Mangal - who went into his ark and dissociated himself from the whole affair.
"We had a hell of a job calming everyone down and freeing the piglets from Ginger's pen when we got home!" The Boss told John the next day when the latter hailed him in his car to ask if everything was OK! "She was doing her nut and wondering how she was going to make another hole big enough for them to get through before they drove her completely mad!" he continued. Poor John was mortified. "And you needn't think we'll be paying you after you upset them all like that". Well! It's a good job John can take a joke.
What's not a joke is the hectic schedule the Pork Provisioner set us in the run up to Christmas. Nine markets in the past 14 days, 6 of them consecutively and 2 on the final day - have tested stamina and systems to the limit. We're not finished yet but we are over the worst of the rush! The bad points? Leaving home before dawn; freezing no matter how many layers of clothing; spending the evening packing up for the next day...... The good points? Customers coming back to say how much they loved the products they'd bought; selling out of our best sellers before lunch-time; selling out of our new Chorizo the day we launched it; putting our feet up in front of a blazing log fire on the last evening.
The year before last we did our very first market at Christmas: last year many of the Christmas markets were cancelled due to all the snow: this year we've done as many as we could get in to; whither will we - piggies and people - wander this time next year? If we only knew.......... (and if The Dog knows? He's not telling......!)

Just to say

2011-12-10T21:15:00.000Z

She asked me to let you all know that normal service will be resumed very soon. It's been a bit hectic and there've been lots of market things going on and the computer wasn't working. We've been out a lot too so between days in the field I've been doing lots of sleeping....... anyway, watch this space for the catchup ... there's loads been going on .. and that's without the hares I've found for her...... well someone's got to make sure there's a decent meal on the table in the evening........ And the pesky cat's been busy too - never seen so many mice - and then there's the piglets running everywhere... so many tales to tell you all .....

A subtle progression?

2011-11-28T22:37:00.002Z

It started with a visit to the birdtable, moved to sleeping in the Poultry Palace and progressed to the outside Pump House. Snow came but the stranger stayed outside. Gradually though it ventured indoors for short spells. Then, as suddenly as it arrrived it disappeared.
"Gone!" we thought. Didn't dare miss it; it hadn't been here long enough for that. Then one evening it was back.
And stayed. Came indoors more frequently and gradually moved from scullery to kitchen to snug to... spare bedroom. Probably thought that since nobody else slept there she might as well.
As a precaution we took her to the vet. Found out that she would soon have had kittens. Little rascal. That's why she was behaving strangely before she left for a few days. Found herself a comfy home then sneaked off to find her mate! Not stupid then.
Pilot and Gunner accepted her without question. She probably told them to. Wasn't long before she was telling us what she wanted. Couldn't call her quiet cat by any stretch. Soon she was not only coming for walks with the dogs in the morning - scared me sometimes thinking we might lose her in the long grass or the wheatfields (she knows her way around though) - but doing the evening rounds with us too whilst impatiently demanding that we hurry up and go up the road for our last-thing walk! When the first mouse was brought in we thought it charming.... now it's a matter of: "Now what's she got?" and I haven't caught as many in the house in the previous 11 years as I have in the one since she arrived.
A year on I realise that quite a few little routines and habits now revolve around her: We leave the porch window open all the time so she can come and go (will that change when it gets really cold I wonder?): I feed her breakfast while making morning tea (none of the others get that): I look for her now when doing the morning feeds (I'd never find Puddy Cat attending to the daily chores!) and talk to her during evening stables: our nightly walk up the drive is punctuated by Words with Waifa; before bed I check if she's with the dogs or on 'her' bed upstairs. We know when her Miaow means "Out" or "In", "Food" or just "Hello"; she's not a cat to pick up and cuddle but she purrs like a lioness, demonstrating how much she appreciates contact with other creatures - human or canine.... and she seems determined that she's here to stay.
Puddy Cat might agree to differ but the skinny, shy creature that arrived last November has made a subtle progression into a place which would be empty and sad without her.

In Cahoots....

2011-11-21T21:57:00.003Z

Delila's last litter of piglets was born on 16th March. It was the evening Clarissa Dickson-Wright was featured on The Great British Food Revival talking about the revival of rare breed pigs and associated pork dishes.
At precisely the time the programme was being aired and Clarissa was saying "My Delila, what a magnificent pig you are!" said MP lay down and gave birth to 10 bouncing piglets. We named them all Clarence or Clarissa in her honour and very nice pigs they've turned out to be too.
Some 6 months later Delila's turn to farrow came round again. Over the past 3 years an order has been established: Precious, then Delila, then Ginger. Thus, Precious farrowed on 2 August, Delila should have farrowed in the latter half of September and Ginger obligingly delivered her litter on 2 November.

"She probably just missed a cycle" we said of Delila when she'd still not farrowed by the beginning of October. "She probably missed a couple of cycles" we said when nothing changed by the end of October!
"Fancy Ginger farrowing before Delila" we said a week later.
"Have you checked Delila lately?" The Boss said to Linda a few days later.
And a few days later again: "You're sure she is in pig?"
"Nothing's changed" Linda kept saying. And then: "I think it looks like her bag's dropping" said The Boss after he'd done breakfast duty a couple of weeks ago. But still nothing. "You'd better have stern words with Delila" The Boss said to Linda one day last week. We all agreed she must be in pig because she was definitely very round. "Or Fat" said Linda. Secretly we were cutting back her hard feed ration just in case it was just fat! When subtle changes - dropping of the bulk in her tummy, slight enlarging of her bag - did happen I think we all thought we might just be willing them to happen.
Last Friday evening a repeat of Clarissa's episode of The Great British Food Revival was aired on TV.
At breakfast on Saturday I remarked to myself that Delila was definitely changing shape and meant to say to The Boss that we'd probably have piglets on Monday - Linda's day off. But The Bestest Gundog and I were off beating and I was in a bit of a hurry so I forgot.
The text came through when we were on the Beater Bus after lunch: "Delila's had her piglets!"
I admit I leapt in the air with joy - and not a little relief. I got a few funny looks but that's part and parcel of bush-beating! And then it occurred to me. Once is a coincidence but twice?
Question: (a) How did Delila know that CDW was going to be on TV again? and (b) How did she know which night it would be?
Admittedly, when CDW called Delila's name, said magnificent Sow snapped her head up and locked on to Clarissa like a magnet. Was something deeper going on? A meeting of souls? A sudden inextricable telepathic bond. Clearly they are in cahoots ---- but how?

All in a days work

2011-11-14T21:39:00.001Z

"I started writing this for Her last week cos She told me we had some busy weeks ahead. I thought a few minutes each day might turn into a picture of what we do at work. Tuesday was a typical working day: up early to feed all the other 4 leggeds and the chickens and ducks too. Then off in the little red car to the village to meet all my mates. Except my favourite, Amy - a black labrador - wasn't there again. But I soon didn't miss her because after what seemed ages we were off. She Who Must be Obeyed walks slowly and whistles a lot and I run helter skelter everywhere looking for the pesky birds. Sometimes they're slow or get tangled in the bushes and I catch them before they fly and SWMbO gets growly with me. Can't work out why. Thought my job was to find birds and bring them to her. We wait around a lot too in between.It's difficult to sit still when there are so many exciting smells in the air.She doesn't seem to notice them though. And there's lots of banging; sometimes a bang makes a bird fall out of the sky and I think it's part of my job to rush off and get it as quickly as possible, but she gets really whistley if I do that and often shakes me; but if I don't get them when they fall she tells me to go and find them later. I'm still trying to work that out. We do this all day long; lots of running and lots of waiting; and at the end I'm whacked. But not so much that I can't get up for dinner.

The second working day of the week started like the first: guarding squiglets whilst SWMbO fed all the others. Then it was off in the red car again .
When we got out we were at a different place from the day before. Not one we go to so often - big gaps in between.Not so many dogs and the people are different too although I recognise one or two familiar smells from the other place.
I like this place; it seems quieter and less frenetic and she lets me get on with my work in peace. Although on Wednesday she did growl at me and shout once when I went to fetch a bird from the field after a big bang.
I had to leave it and go back later and that confused me and I couldn't find it at first but after a while I understood what her arms were saying and I found it.
There are lots of big birds at this place; here she

took a picture of what she called swans who kept flying overhead, though by the time she got her clicker thing out the swans were almost too far away to see; but you can just make out the two black dots in the very bleak sky.
It was a very warm day again and I had a lot of running around to do, what with finding birds in the undergrowth and then collecting the ones the bangs made fall. Then there were others that she said I had to find though she didn't know if they were there; they're the best ones cos she's always very pleased when we find them. There was one of those long beaked birds too that I found in the sugar beet so even the big man with the banger seemed pleased.

Just when we though it was tiring end of day time the boss decided we had to run through another wood - here I am peering at something which was in there but which she said I mustn't go after yet. By the time we finished it was very bleak and my tummy felt empty and my tongue was dry. When we got back to the litttle red car she put my new coat on - she seemed annoyed though when she saw it had little holes in it which she said had something to do with a mouse ... I was too tired to notice though and just had a nibble of my food that she brings with me and went to sleep all the way home. Where I fell asleep till dinner time'; after which I fell asleep again. The next day we didn't go anywhere but the next two days we worked; once in the very familiar place with all my mates and once in a place we haven't been to since the snow fell and I got a stick thing up my nostril and had to go the nice vet man. It's still very warm for running around all day but I don't get as puffy as I did when we started.
Anyway, she's got that green bag out so we must be off again tomorrow. Happy waggy me.
I'll keep padding my notes and perhaps She'll let me tell you all about it another evening. I find it jolly exciting even though it's all in a day's work.And you might too."

Miserable Monday

2011-11-07T21:00:00.000Z

"A typical murky November Day" remarked The Boss as we were driving along this afternoon and, looking out the window at the drizzle colouring the countryside a misty grey, Tony and I could only grunt agreement.
It was a suitable backdrop to the deed of the day though. Regular readers will know of our Curly Coat Custodian scheme and today we were fetching Debbie(Harry) and Annie(Lennox) at the end of their custodianship. Looking at the picture of the girls above it's difficult to see them as the young weaners we took to "Pastures New" on 24 April. I said then that I suspected they had landed on their feet! Bellies more like! I don't know if they have been the best loved and most spoiled Curly Coats ever but I'd bet it's a close run thing. That's Annie above having her tummie tickled. "I used to do massage" said the nice Custodian lady "so I've been practising on her" - well, I don't see a pig complaining! And, if further proof were needed of their good living - the curls themselves really give the game away. That's a coat any Curly would be proud to own.

Annie & Debbie were from Precious' New Romantics litter (born on Valentine's Day) and their home for the past 7 months couldn't have suited their name better: at the bottom of a well tended garden filled with delicious fruits and veg. - many of which have graced their bowl (along with a Christmas cake, though I don't believe that fell off one of the trees); designer ark; garden bench alongside, from whence I suspect emanated many a starlight bedtime story; playdogs for company and to serve as breakfast alarms; any many other benefits only Annie & Debbie will ever know about. Truly the luckiest of pigs. One of the most rewarding aspects of the Custodian scheme from our perspective is that our pigs get to lead such varied and interesting lives. Our Custodians tell us that the experience is one they'd not have missed for the world and lessons learned from the pigs will last a lifetime.

Not such a Miserable Monday then.

Spoiled piggies

2011-10-31T21:16:00.000Z

Fifteen weeks ago we delivered 2 of Ginger's Deserts litter, Dorothy and Spamalot, (not the names we gave them!) to their Custodians at Kirton Lindsey. They were just little weaners and looked quite lost in their very capacious quarters. The blog at the time shows their tailor made des.res. which was probably an indicator of how spoiled they might become! They demolished it. A nice shiny new ark has replaced it! Spoiled pigs? Hmmm.
They've grown a bit - well, quite a lot really. This is Dotty (or it could be Spammy) washing her trotters following a rather sybaritic wallow, which she demonstrated for my benefit. Clearly the other water bowl is used in much the same way! Note also the beautifully coiffed curls.

We were visiting on Sunday to drop off another 3 Curly Coat weaners, this time from Precious' Fruits litter born on 2 August. By the way they offered to help lift the straw over the electric fence (erected to separate them from their new companions) it was clear that Dotty and Spammy have struck up a rapport with their Custodians. It's not just their rubenesque physiques which provide a clue that they are spoiled rotten - a pile of uneaten apples by the ark was a bit of a giveaway too! Factors such as these erased any worries I might have had about how the three youngsters we'd brought with us would fare.
The older girls will be able to show them all the ropes and fill them in on 'What goes on around here' as well as telling them pig tales at night to help them sleep.

Dotty & Spammy's pen was rather larger than necessary for two pigs so it had been split in two with an electric fence and a shiny ark procured for the new arrivals.
Custodian junior carried the first weaner from the trailer and gently placed her over the fence into her new pen. She promptly ran straight through the electric fence to the larger pigs! Who, instead of enquiring gently, chased her mercilessly. We watched. Till someone suggested there was strength in numbers and maybe a second weaner should be put in the pen! So the second was added to the melee - and she too ran straight through the electric fence! So now two weaners were chased around by Dotty and Spammy. They must have thought it was the best game ever.....
So we added the third weaner to the mix.
She ran exactly the opposite way. And then got lost and couldn't find her mates at all in all the undergrowth. They'd gone off to the pile of apples - very sensible since they'd been short-rationed at breakfast. They found some other goodies there too. When they'd had enough they set about exploring and somewhere the three weaners eventually found each other - but they were all in D & S's pen so they were chased around until they made it back to safety through the electric fence. Where Dotty and Spammy would not follow - they'd had enough of a shock when the fence was first connected and no way would they put their snouts anywhere near it again!
We heard later in the evening that all had settled down and the little ones had safely gone to bed in their ark. Exhausted from all the adventures of the day, maybe they'd dream of happy days at RectoryReserve with their siblings or perhaps they'd be excitedly anticipating what their future as spoiled pigges would be like... .

To Ginger and Mangal....

2011-10-25T21:38:00.000+01:00

When Ginger gave birth to her first litter of 7 piglets in November 2007 they were the first Curly Coats to be born in Lincolnshire for 40 or so years.
The paparazzi came out in force: radio and TV coverage was generous. Everyone was curious about these strange 'new' creatures or, as one news presenter phrased it, "Dodos returned from the grave".
A lot has happened since. From a base of 15 imported to the UK in November 2006 there are now over 400 registered Mangalitza Curly Coat pigs in the country. In Lincolnshire alone we now have 5 breeders, hopefully insuring against the whole stock being wiped out in the event of some
awful foot & mouth type disease. We still meet a large number of people at Markets and Shows who have not heard of the Curly coat pigs but there is a growing band of pig lovers who now recite the story of their introduction back to us. And even in these recessionary times our sales of gourmet Curly Coat Pork Provisions are increasing as their unique flavour wins over a growing band of people who value taste and provenance.
This is all thanks to Ginger and Mangal. But they are quite oblivious to the contributions they have made to our lives. Their world syncopates to natures' rythms and views ours with a wisdom and tolerance we can only aspire to.

So it was that Ginger delivered her 9th litter, of seven piglets, on Sunday night/Monday morning. Oblivious of the fact that we had the date in our diary for a week later - after all, in our order of things Delila should have farrowed first - she quietly went about her business and managed to catch us by surprise. Rather like the first time really! She came out on Monday morning to have her breakfast. Ate it calmly and then returned to her ark. And that's all that alerted me to the fact that something was different. Usually she hangs about by the gate until she's sure breakfast is over.
"Ahhh?" I thought, climbing over the gate and peeking in to the ark. Sure enough, there they were happily suckling away without a care in the world. Clever old Ginger. No wonder she's got that sublimely peaceful look on her face. All's right in her world. And that makes ours a better place too.

I told 'em

2011-10-20T20:46:00.000+01:00

"Anyone who knows me knows I'm an honest dog, not given to pretending things are or are not there unless they are.. or are not. I've been telling She who Must Be Obeyed for days and days that the Pesky Cat put a mouse in the pantry.
"Many's the time I've sat in there with my head cocked knowingly to one side and my clearest 'There's something in/under/behind there' look in my eyes. But did she do anything about it? I do everything she asks me to do, and more sometimes, but when I ask her to move stuff so I can get at the mouse does she do that for me? No.
"So is it any wonder that she gets a surprise when she checks over the stored apples?
"And to make matters worse by the time she called me the mouse had run out of its nest and gone under/in/behind something else. And still she wouldn't move stuff for me to get it. I could get it I know I could - if only she'd move stuff.
"That was yesterday. Then today when I went in to check, I heard it run under the boxes again. I told her when she came in but still she didn't move stuff. There'll be another nest somewhere. But I won't tell them where.... Well, I will 'cos I'm an honest dog. But why won't she move stuff? I'm a confused dog."

Finally - it's here

2011-10-18T21:31:00.000+01:00

After months of looking forward, finally it was here. Although the shooting season officially commences on 1 September for Partridge and 1 October for Pheasant, the first day, for the dog and I, was last Friday. After months of anticipation and 'keeping the dog on the whistle' (as Rory-the-trainer recommends!) The Morning dawned. And it was the most beautiful dawn - which I gained a full appreciation of when I went with The Boss to set his stall up at a local Farmers' Market. A number of the shoots The Bestest Gundog and I work on clash with market days. No guessing where priorities lie - so The Boss is responsible for taking the pork provisions to Market! He was looking forward to

his First Day almost as much as the Dog and I! "Red in the Morning" proved not to be a shepherds warning: the whole day was unseasonably warm and sunny. The picture above and alongside were taken whilst waiting for the first drive to start. (Wo)men and dogs standing quietly in eager, patient anticipation. The Bestest Gundog displayed an unexpected composure. I thought, as in previous years, he'd be quivering with excitement. He was excited alright but calm and still with it; facing his 4th season he knows what's coming and how long it will last and is just totally professional about it. It came home to me sharply that he is now a fully fledged Gundog. There's still stuff to learn and loads to perfect but there's not a lot he doesn't know.

And throughout the morning, 4 or 5 drives in all, he worked smartly and eagerly - his nose to the ground and his ear on the whistle. My biggest worry was that he would invoke the wrath of the Keeper (whose wrath is prodigious indeed) by 'pegging' a pheasant - catch one on the ground before it had time to get in the air- even more so since this was purely a partridge day! There is only one greater sin a working dog can commit and that is to run straight through the drive! But he behaved as though it never occurred to him -even though once or twice I could tell he was tempted! The drive immediately after lunch was long and, in the heat of the bright sun, exhausting. He crossed me at one point with his breath rasping and his tongue almost on the ground. I should not have let him get in that state and called him to heel immediately. Shamed that I'd not stopped him sooner, but we humans get carried away on the First Day too. It was close to the end of the drive and we made it slowly back to the Beaters' Bus where he drank and drank and drank and drank. Half an hour later he was back on the beat and pacing himself more carefully.
A serious lesson learned; nailing the technicalities alone does not a working gundog team make methinks... an interesting thought to start the new season.

Wedding Fruits

2011-10-13T20:49:00.000+01:00

It's always sad to say 'Good Bye' to piglets. Here's the Precious's Little Fruits watching Moses leave. He's gone to a good home where there are other pigs and where two young Mangalitza gilts are waiting to become his paramours. He'll want for little we think. Arriving at his new home, the humans went off for a cup of tea, leaving him in his travelling box in the van - when they returned to take him to his quarters he was sitting in the front seat!

"Wish we'd had a camera" Jim said when we spoke on the 'phone the next day.
Think Moses is going to be alright.

Yesterday it was the turn of Mave and Babe.

They've gone off to newly wed Custodians, Rachelle and her husband.

They were given Custodianship as a wedding present. Apparently on the wedding day a cuddly pink pig kept appearing in this guest's arms, on that guest's chair, with one of the children..... Rachelle thought it a bit strange but it wasn't till she and her new husband got home that night and found the certificate informing them that "Mave and Babe" were coming to live with them for a few months that the penny dropped!
What a lovely idea.

As soon as they returned from their honeymoon they got in touch with us and came over to select their piglets and yesterday we delivered them. Mave's the red one: she was not at all happy to be in the car and squeaked, squealed, peed and pooed, climbed over Babe, threw herself against the cage sides, ripped up all the paper. I think she's going to be a handful!

Babe, on the other hand, was as good as gold. Perhaps she's a dumb blonde and was just computing everything - slowly!
Whatever - both little weaners were more than happy to get out of the car and go exploring round their new quarters. They've a unique des.res. - but it didn't interest them at all - least not whilst The Boss and I were watching. Having been indoors since they were weaned they were far more excited by the smells on the ground. Which they lost little time in rootling into. "Don't think that grass swathe is going to last long" said The Boss as we walked back to the car. "Don't think that Res. is going to look quite so des. once they start their modifications" I thought to myself. For the time being though it'll be nice and snug for them and I'm sure the Humans at Dovecote Farm will soon rustle up a replacement if needs be. Mave and Babe will be well looked after for the next 9 months or so and Rachelle has promised to send us regular updates and photos.

What a lovely way to start married life!

That cat again

2011-10-04T20:39:00.000+01:00

It was a glorious afternoon on Sunday. We were sitting out on the terrace having afternoon tea. The niece, who's apparently "crazy about cats" at the moment, had located Puddy Cat and declared her "my perfect cat". Which led to a long discussion about cats. Waifa appeared on the scene, allowed herself to be admired from afar and wandered off when subjected to the possibility of closer attention from a 'stranger'.

The sister-in-law, regaled us with the story of how Lucy, a cat she'd had many years back, had caught a weasel and brought it into the house and that led to a general discussion about wild creatures and weasels in particular. The conversation turned to other matters.
Waifa reappeared in the orchard.

"What's that in her mouth?" exclaimed the sister-in-law. It was something long and thin which swung from side to side as she trotted towards us. Suddenly Pilot's head shot up and he made as if to run towards the cat. I grabbed his collar. The cat disappeared from view - towards the house.
I let go of the dog and ran through the house to the back door. Just in time to witness Waifa climbing in through the porch window. Landing on the floor, she dropped her gift and "miaouwed" cheerfully. "No wonder Pilot smelled that!" I thought to myself, picking it up from the floor. It was a still warm but very dead and extremely smelly weasel.
"Please don't tell us any more stories about what Lucy brought home" I said to the sister-in-law when I re-joined them all and proudly showed off Waifa's treasure.
"Did I ever tell you about the time the cat caught a big white shark?" she asked, smiling mischievously....

Record breaking Lincolnshire Day

2011-10-02T22:02:00.000+01:00

It wasn't just any Farmer's Market Day yesterday. For a start it was Lincolnshire day and there were balloons and smiles everywhere.
Then there was the Town Crier "Oy Yeh"-ing and proclaiming all over the place. Finally, adding an air of celebrity to the market was the BBC crew filming with Matt Baker all morning. Watch Countryfile on 16 October to see what they were getting up to.
And it was jolly darned hot. 14 degrees when I left home soon after dawn. 30 degrees in the middle of the day and 28.5 degrees here on the Wolds when I returned home.
Far too hot to be selling Pork Provisions, though sell we did - 60% more sausages than usual for a start.

I looked at a representative selection of our family energetically enjoying the sun and decided they had absolutely the right idea. So, G&T in hand, I went out on to the terrace and The Boss and I spent a very pleasant late afternoon hour admiring the view, putting the world to rights and storing up loads of Vitamin D for what we are being warned will be another long, hard winter.
A fitting close to Lincolnshire Day.
(Incidentally:It was also the first day of the Pheasant shooting season - no doubt it will be declared the hottest ever FD): for the first time I was pleased that The Dog and I were not 'on Duty'!)

Not like September

2011-09-30T22:50:00.002+01:00

This was Monday evening just before 7pm.
The picture doesn't do it justice but the sky was glowing with pink and purple hues.

Not really like September.

Not September in England.

This was Tuesday around 7pm.
Misty pinks and greys with gold and orange.

Oriental not Lincolnshire.

Not September. Not late September anyway.

This was Tuesday too but just a longer shot.
The mist is hanging heavy over the Trent Valley. The water masses in the lower left hand corner are recent additions to our landscape.
In time they will attract birdlife; already this week ducks have moved in. First one family - then more.
Lapwings should follow in the spring. They like moist land I'm told. These ponds were excavated particularly with them in mind.
They are welcome attractions and will keep us entertained throughout the long winter months as the life around them changes and grows.

Wednesday saw temperatures of 29'C. I was at Market - there was a Carnival air about the town. Shorts and summer dresses everywhere. Not a day for selling pork products really. We sat out on the terrace later, sipped a cooling drink and watched the sun sink lower. After dinner I took this shot through the dining room window. Not like September. Not September in England at all. Thursday evening was too misty and murky for photos - the heat of the day going down. This evening was golden too - but fleetingly; the sun sank suddenly with little warning. Tonight the sky is crystal clear; each star sharp against the darkness. Tomorrow is another market day: the heat is forecast to be greater still.

Not like September in Lincolnshire. Not like September in England at all.

Relief!

2011-09-25T21:06:00.001+01:00

"Well, that's a relief" said Tony after we'd finished successfully weaning Precious's piglets on Friday afternoon. "I only had to carry three of them into the trailer!" and off we all went feeling jolly pleased with ourselves that the whole task (from hitching up the trailer to catching piglets in their pen, handing them over the fence to willing hands who then put them in the trailer and then unloading all the piglets into their pen in the barn and unhitching trailer again) had been completed within such a short time. Linda happily went off to feed Tea and we three retired to the house for a congratulatory drink.
The horses were relieved not to have to share their field with the piglets, Gunner was relieved not to have to round them up anymore and Precious was totally nonplussed by the whole thing, tucking into her food with hardly a glance to see what was going on around her.
Relief sow style.

Some things are just that simple.
Sometimes.
It being Sunday, I was a little late going out to feed breakfast this morning. "Piglets are nice and quiet in the barn" I thought to myself as I made the horses' breakfast.
"Probably enjoying a bit of a lie in too" I mused as I filled a bucket with their food. Took it out to them, calling "Wakey, Wakey piglets, breakfast time" and poured it into their bowls outside their pen. "Strange" I thought to the hollow nothingness coming from the barn. Peered into their straw. Nothing. Had a harder look, willing them to be hiding (for why? I can't imagine) under their straw.

Then it dawned. I know - but the mind was just wanting them to be 'There'.
Soon as I noticed The Dog wasn't with me I knew. He'd found them. I went slowly in the direction of the field. Sure enough: there they all were. All neatly tucked into the corner of Precious's pen - innocently looking up at me as they waited for breakfast. "I thought you were my friend: How could you do this to me?" Precious's look seemed to say to me. I went back to the house and told The Boss the good news. He gave me a knowing look (it had been a warm night and I'd left barn doors open wide never thinking the little fat piggies could squiggle under the one hurdle that wasn't doubly secured with a reinforcing pallet.)
By the time I returned to feed breakfast they were everywhere again - in the other pens, in the hen house, around the field. Everyone yelling - "Where'd these little blighters come from again???"
"You said it was too easy" I said to Tony when he came round later in the afternoon to help us re-wean the weaners "So we decided to let them all out and again and have another go!" Linda, unusually, wasn't amused.
I had given everyone short rations in the morning in the hope they'd be a bit more amenable at tea time. We quickly caught the first two piglets - tucking into their food they weren't expecting to be picked up. The remaining 7 became increasingly illusive and really tested our ingenuity, expecially when they ran in with the young boars. "I must have a rest" gasped Tony as he rushed, red-faced to collect another piglet from over yet another different fence and take it to the trailer.... (Well - we didn't want to make it easy for him again!). The last little gilt ran so fast at a hurdle that she got her head stuck in it and gave us all a few nasty moments until we managed to release her. Precious meanwhile just carried on eating her tea.
The remainder of the herd were well and truly noisy and excited. As an exercise in quietly catching piglets it was not our finest hour.
When they were finally all safely (and securely) esconced back in the barn we breathed a communal sigh of relief.
Then we went back out to the field to round up three girls who are leaving us tomorrow. It didn't go as smoothly as we'd have liked, the boss of the three giving us a few nasty moments when she decided not to load into the trailer with the other two but instead had a little run around. With a deft move from Tony at a critical moment though she got the message and joined her mates and tucked greedily into a good helping of tea.
More sighs of relief.
Three of us retired to the house for a refreshing drink while Linda carried on with the Tea ceremony. Peace gradually returned; everyone settled down.
Relief.

The last days of summer

2011-09-19T21:57:00.000+01:00

Weatherwise, it's been a bit of an odd week really: the remnants of American hurricanes have rampaged through the orchard causing one of the heaviest 'windfalls' in years. Net result: larder now full of chutneys, jams, jellys and masses of apples to keep us going through the winter and well beyond. And there's still all the picking to do! Despite, or maybe because of, the winds we've also been enjoying some late summer sunshine - not wall to wall and really hot so you have to hide in the shade but glorious gusty playing hide-and-seek behind billowing clouds type sunshine. The odd heavy downpour has been very odd indeed: for the most part it's been really dry. It'll not last so we're making the most of it. In a bid to fitten Gunner up for the soon-to-be-with-us season we've been upping the exercise: he loves it - young birds here, there and everywhere. In typical spaniel fashion, he never stops unless I tell him to. And then he admits he could do with a bit of a breather. Before he's off again.

Precious's Little Fruits will be weaned at the end of this week - to her relief and ours! They are everywhere - in the (rather overgrown section of the) vegetable garden - certainly not the usual haunt of pigs and piglets - in the Poultry Palace, all over the other pigs' pens. It's impossible to leave anything alone for a minute - they're there with their snoutlets tipping over buckets, snuffling in feedbowls, chewing hosepipes, scrumping apples in the feedroom..... Everywhere we look, there's either a bunch of piglets or evidence that a bunch has recently passed through! It's comical and even their most annoying tricks bring smiles to our faces. Memories of summer that we'll treasure in the depths of deepest winter......

Gunner's been doing his best to keep them in check: as this photo shows, he's taken to not sitting down too securely when he's 'on duty': he also pretends to ignore them; they're very quick to scamper off without a moment's notice so he hovers, alert while appearing not to be and as soon as they're off, he's right there with them! The red one at the back of the pack will be leaving here soon after weaning. Moses, as his new owners have called him, is off to be a real Boar: he's a handsome lad and certainly the best of the boys in the litter so he's sure to be a great success with his new ladies.

The final confirmation that summer will soon be over comes from the feedroom. The last clutch of swallows has suddenly disappeared. I assume they've flown off but I'm having difficulty actually believing how they can have done in such a short time. This photo was taken on last Thursday evening. It's not easy to see the hatchlings because they are still so small and snuggling deep down in their nest. Usually when they grow too big for the nest they spend a few days in the barn eating and growing stronger before practising their flying. They then spend a few more days sleeping in the barn but spending increasing periods of time on the wing. This lot, however, have just suddenly gone. There's no evidence of them at all. I can't believe they learned to fly and then disappeared in so few days with my not even noticing them. It's a mystery. There's no way rodents or cats could have got to them up in the eaves of the barn so I must assume they have flown away.
Is it an omen that the summer will disappear equally suddenly ...............................

Can't a chap get a minute's peace round here?

2011-09-13T21:38:00.000+01:00

"There I was just trying to have a bit of a doze on the kitchen sofa while The Boss and She who Must be Obeyed were having their dinner when up comes the pesky cat. All I was thinking about was my empty belly and what tasty morsels I'd find in my bowl when They were finished and all cat could talk about was how wonderful it might be if we went hunting outside together. Well I don't know what she calls hunting. Most of what she brings in is tiny stuff - OK I know, there is the odd small rabbit - hardly worthy of a Spaniel of the Real Working variety.Try telling her that though. The little thing she brought in tonight even bit SwMbO when I gave it to her. And that's not a good start. Won't do my prospects any good at all if She gets an infection from some pesky vermine. That'll be the end of Real Hunting for us both.
"Speaking of which I overheard her telling The Boss just now that a large number of young pheasants on our beat round here got cut up by the farmer combining his wheat one night late last week. Now, that really would upset things. She said the Main Man (Gamekeeper that is) was more than just a little upset. And I've heard him when he's just a little upset. In fact, everybody hears him when he's a little bit upset. Not good for young ears, or even old ones come to that. Not a pretty sight either. Ooohh, quite makes me tremble to think about it.
"He yelled at me, through her you know- not directly, one early day last season. I was only trying to stop a young pheasant running out from a cover crop; the men were shooting partridge and this young bird was trying to run off instead of flying up like a proper one - more like it was wounded, so I thought I'd just go fetch it back. I was halfway to it when his voice boomed out and all but stopped me dead in my tracks. But I don't listen to anybody else. I gathered my senses and applied myself again. By the time She blew her whistle I all but had it in my mouth to take back to her. I quickly turned back to her but I could tell she was not best pleased. Difficult to know the right thing to do sometimes. I do try but occasionally she doesn't seem to be totally pleased. I've been practising over the past months - trying to be sharp on the whistle and finding all the things she asks me to, and a few that she doesn't. Trouble is when a chap's out hunting and the blood's up and all the other dogs are running about and doing all sorts of things that I've never been asked to - well, some lessons just get forgotten or the wind makes the whistle hard to hear. And there are times when I know I'm right so I just have to go and do what I think.

"Anyway, I was trying to explain a few of these finer points of hunting to the Pesky Cat but you know what? She just scoffed. Said that sounded like there were a load of rules and there are no rules to the way she hunts and with that she said she was off to eat the dinner that was in her bowl. And that's another strange thing about Cat: she always has dinner in her bowl. Why is that? We real hunters only get to eat once a day. Don't think I'll take up her suggestion if she mentions it again. I'm sure we'll be off on the Real Thing soon. It's always around this time of year - when the weather turns cool and the evenings seem so short. I'm sure we'll soon be going again. Maybe I'll have a little doze now Cat's going and dream of proper hunting....... and then it'll be dinner time.......zzzzz"

Glorious Mud

2011-09-07T21:38:00.001+01:00

Darbie and Joan were 8 weeks old last Friday. It was high time therefore that they were weaned. Latterly Aster had become very protective of them, even going so far as to nip Linda when she entered her pen. It could have been difficult to take her piglets away.
As it turned out though it was the easiest weaning ever.
Having been born inside and, therefore, used from the outset to people going in and out, Darbie and Joan have grown to have no fear of us. Like all piglets they are more than happy to run around away from their mother and visit with all their extended family. Contrary to the other piglets though, whenever they see Linda, The Big Boss or me, they run straight towards, rather than away from, us! In order to wean them we simply opened up one of the outside pens and made it a nice place to go - food, clean straw, lots of tummy tickles whenever they went in. They were free to come and go. We shut the gate a couple of times but opened it again after a little while so as not to fret them. On the second day we shut the barn door up so they couldn't run straight back to Ma. They didn't worry. She did a bit. But not for long. So in the evening we simply shut their gate and that was it. Easy weaning.

The following day we separated the most handsome one of the Clarences from his brothers - actually he was chosen for the size of his ears so let's hope he turns out to be a good boar as well! We put Aster next door to him thinking that she would probably bully him mercilessly if we put them together straightaway. Her mind was totally elsewhere. She totally ignored him.
Instread she trotted around and sussed out her surroundings. Then ploughed into the dirtiest muddy patch for all she was worth! No hesitation. No apology. No doubt that she had really missed being able to do that. If she had been pining for her piglets before then, it was clear that the glorious mud drove everything else from her mind.
The next day when we allowed her and Clarence to get together she was even nice to him (which may or may not prove to be a good thing?). She's been a sweety with us too.
That's how much pigs love the glorious mud.
What of Darbie and Joan? Well Linda and I spend quite a bit of time rubbing their backs and their ears, which makes them roll over so that we can then tickle their tummies! They even seem to prefer attention to food - I don't suppose that'll last! I suspect if we opened their gate they'd happily follow us around and then go back home for tea; maybe we'll try that later in the week..... maybe....

RIP Solo 4.2002 - 9.2011

2011-09-03T22:05:00.000+01:00

Solo was the first chick born here after we moved up from the South. His history is detailed in the blog of 24 June 2007. It was a rainy day in May when he decided to leave the nest. He was too small to climb back into the nest box of the broody coop. Daffodil being a caring sort of bird gave up sitting on the rest of her eggs in order to shelter him from the rain. He grew into a very handsome cockerel and, more importantly, he had the nicest termperament. Unlike some that tried to challenge him over the years, he never raised his talons in anger. He ruled the Poultry Palace with a velvet claw for the best part of 7 years. Even in the last two when a younger bird took over he maintained his dignity.

He was an ideal cockerel I suppose.

Daffodil passed away in the spring. With Solo gone it seems like the end of an era in the Poultry Palace.

The art of vegetable collection

2011-09-01T21:45:00.002+01:00

Regular followers will know that we have been keeping an eye on our curly coats' waistlines by substituting up to 50% o their proprietary diet with organic vegetables.
It's taken a while and given us a few head and muscle aches but I think we have finally perfected the collection method. We started a few months back using the pig trailer which proved not to be big enough (not to mention people kept hitting their head on its roof when loading trugs of veg into it).
So we progressed to using the horse trailer.
That was OK for a while but it became increasingly arduous to manhandle the veg. trugs into and out of the trailer. Added to which, in order to optimise the collection, we were in danger of overloading the trailer and it was in danger of over-stretching the gear box on the 4X4. So The Boss set about finding a more suitable method of transport.

And in his inimitable fashion he quickly found just what we needed in Sheffield.,
Willie, the Transit tipper truck, (named after his registration plate?!) has been with us for a few weeks and certainly solved one or two of the problems straightaway, but it was only this week that it all came together.
Today for the first time we managed to load up with about a tonne and a half of loose veg. (baby cauliflower and broccoli, for the record) - in no time at all (once we found the man who could operate the forklift which could up-end the giant containers and tip the contents into the truck). And it was all held firmly on board by the rather smart tailor-made tarpaulin cover which The Boss ordered from a local firm a couple of weeks back and collected at the beginning of this week. All very smart and all very efficient. It'll be an even quicker process next week now that we know how many bins of veg. Willie can carry and how to fix the tarp.! (it took us about 15 minutes to work it out today - as with most things, it's not quite as simple as it looks).
However, now that we have mastered the art of vegetable collection we are happy people ......and that makes for happy piggies.

Reprise indoor hunting

2011-08-30T22:05:00.000+01:00

Great kerfuffle in the background as I was finishing off the blog before this one. Unmistakeable sound of cat - and this time the innocent and lady-like Puddy Cat not the dastardly Waifa - playing in the hall with - what?
So off I go with my constant canine companion to investigate. Sure enough something small and black runs under the sideboard. Dog's nose instantly follows - bump! Black furry thing runs out other side into front porch; dog follows fast; thing hides behind umbrella pot; dog follows; great thump and scrape as dog moves pot; black furry thing shoots out the side................. straight into Dog's jaw. Which clamps shut and goes "gulp" as he - yes - swallows it even as I'm telling him to give it to me.
I've had to go back to this photo of him as an innocent put just to calm myself down.....:~(

A Sullen Sow

2011-08-30T21:56:00.000+01:00

Pigs are genial creatures on the whole. They might have a little grump and tussle with each other from time to time but for the most part they rub along nicely with most anyone, minding their own business until the next meal - when it's every man for himself! Mangalitzas are particularly friendly towards humans and, contrary to popular belief, it isn't all about the food!
So it takes us aback when one of our herd is off-colour; it doesn't happen often and leads to much head-scratching and musing until we (think we) get to the bottom of it.

After my shooting lesson last Friday The Boss said Linda had reported that Ginger was restless and seemingly nervous. She'd been a bit off-colour the day before though so I wasn't convinced it was all about the shooting ('specially when He said I'd have to cease aiming at clays if it was upsetting her???!:-( ) She was still miserable and moochy and not much interested in her food (always a bad sign) on Saturday though and judging from the way Mangal's been pushing her about lately I thought it might have a little more to do with that than noises off left.
So on Sunday evening I opened the gates to Mangal's pen, giving him the opportunity to 'go home'.

Then it was a simple case of offering him breakfast there and, whilst he was eating, taking Ginger's breakfast up to her 'place'. She happily followed. And after eating up - the first time in days, she said, she hadn't been bullied away from her bowl - she set about sorting her house out and getting it just the way she wanted it.
Mangal made to go back up to her place after he'd finished his food but on finding the gates shut was quite happy to go back and eat up his broccoli. And he hasn't really bothered much about her being away after that. And she's been back to her happy, bouncy self again. Which is such a relief. Nobody likes a sullen old sow!

Meanwhile, down in the field Precious's Little Fruits are growing bolder by the day. They try and get the best of both worlds by alternately
tucking into Mum's dinner bowl and hanging on to a teat whilst she's trying to eat. Yesterday I was schooling Rocco in the Playpen and, coming round a corner, found 9 little piglets standing in a row in the gateway watching! "Not many horses have such an animated audience to watch them work!" I thought to myself. They soon got bored though and scampered off to find some other mischief and, with The Bestest Gundog in the house at the time, they had pretty free rein.

Prickley balls!

2011-08-26T22:10:00.000+01:00

Shooting people will argue for hours about the merits of their dogs and the many ways in which Labradors are better than Spaniels and vice versa (there is even a sentiment - with which we obviously don't agree - which suggests that Labradors are born half-trained whereas spaniels - with luck - die half-trained!).

However, no-one would disagree that possibly the most prized attribute in any working dog is a soft mouth. Although both Labradors and Spaniels are equally blessed with the genetic and physical make-up which enables them to pick up and deliver their quarry without a hint of bruising, it is not a given that they always (or in some cases, ever) will. In the end it really boils down to what's going on the the dog's head - his attitude and character.

The Bestest Gundog in all the World has always been praised for his 'soft' mouth but even I was astounded with the 'surprise' he retrieved for me a couple of nights back.

The sun had already set when we went for our evening constitutional on Wednesday. Heading up the drive, as is our habit, I heard an odd yelping sound in the bushes and thought maybe the dog had bumped into the cat in the hedgerow. Moments later The BGiatW bounded up to me with something he'd found so I opened my hands to receive it from him and

"Ouch!" What the hell was it?

"Ouch" and "Ouch" again. The prickly ball just filled the palms of my hands - which were unfortunately gloveless. I wriggled my jacket sleeves down enough to take the creature off my skin. And took it home to show The Boss what the Dog had found. In a bit of a quandary - I didn't want to put it down on the ground because I knew it would just be retrieved - I decided to place it in a box of straw which I happened to have handy in the shed and put the box in the horse-trailer until we'd finished our walk -- when I thought I could release the baby hedgehog back to the hedgerow.

We resumed our walk up the drive.
Within a couple of minutes The Bestest Gundog appeared with another gift for me. Luckily I'd put my gloves on because it was another baby hedgehog. We turned back to the yard and I put it with its mate.
We resumed our walk again. We'd hardly gone 50 yards up the drive when yet another hedgehog was delivered to my hands - the Dog being truly delighted with himself by now. He ran panting alongside me as I took the third little creature back to the horse-trailer and put it with the others.
And off we went again. This time we managed a considerable distance before I heard another strange yelp; within moments a positively ecstatic young dog bounded up to me with a fourth baby hedgehog. He was touchingly proud as he dropped it into my open palms, wagging his little tale as hard as he could and cocking his head from one side to the other as I marvelled at his skill in finding yet another prickly ball.
I haven't seen a hedgehog in the past 10 years and now I'd had four in my hands within a matter of minutes. I was totally amazed. I carried my prickly gift for the rest of our walk with my bouncy gundog alternately running beside me and dashing off into the hedgerow - presumably to see if he could find another.
Returning home we placed the 4th hedgehog in the box and, deciding to leave them all in safety for the night, I fetched them milk and cat-food. It was all gone the next morning. Three little balls had burrowed into the newpaper at the bottom of the box and the fourth was just having a little recce of his surroundings. Since they're nocturnal, I waited till after I'd walked the dogs the following evening before putting them, still in their box, back under the hedgerow.
Tonight, before our evening consitutional I went to check and, sure enough, all the hedgehogs had gone. But by the end of our walk I was carrying 3 hedgehogs! I'm sure it would have been 4 if I'd not stopped Gunner going off to find the last one.
It's no easy task to open a door when your hands are full of prickly balls but I put the Dog in the house and put the hedgehogs back under the hedge. And I hope that's the end of it. I've a feeling though that this could become a habit now that Gunner has the scent of them. If so, I'll have to take the little creatures away from their territory - and ours - to a place where they won't keep being retrieved!
The MOST remarkable thing about all this though is that Gunner has not a single mark on him from the hedgehog spines. He was carrying the prickly balls very, very gently indeed. Surely that must signify a truly soft mouth.

Spreading our wings

2011-08-22T21:48:00.000+01:00

The Pork Provisioner has been attending a regular set of Farmer's Markets throughout the past few months.
It's been instructive, entertaining, hard work, sometimes too hot, sometimes a little wet, occasionally a little unexciting but never dull. Just when I thought I was getting into a bit of a routine though The Big Boss decided we needed to spread our wings a little!
So there I was at 0730 last Friday, in the car and on the phone:
"Where did you say I should turn after the immediate left after the first left after the main lights?"

And he said:

"It can't be far from where you are: you should be able to see it. Drive on a little. No. Don't go over the level crossing!"

So I drove on and asked someone and they told me where to go - in the nicest possible way - and when I got there I asked someone else and they said I was in the wrong place so I turned round and drove back the other way and asked another chap and he said I should go down there and turn off to the 2nd left and I'd see it on the left. And fortunately he was right because it was getting late and I knew I needed to set up and have the car off the pedestrian precinct before 0830. As it turned out I needn't have worried at all. The Council provided the stall so all I had to do was get the Provisions set out, go find somewhere to park, walk back and enjoy the day.

Which was no hardship with a Baker on one side of me and Home-made Ice Cream on the other. Plus lots of different people to watch: always amazes me how much the local culture changes from town to town! I'd also like to thank the Curly Coats' Appreciation Society for turning out to Grimsby in large numbers so that the day was an economic success. Which means we'll be back again next month and the one after, and after that.........

Meanwhile, down in the field Precious' young litter (now known as the Fruits) will be 3 weeks old tomorrow. They've been spreading their wings since the first week and are more frequently to be seen, as here, in the next door pens where their aunts live. Precious is totally blase about it, to the extent that she can frequently be seen excavating near the fences so her youngsters can more easily trot off! Sadly we lost the runt of the litter, whom we'd nicknamed Pygmy Pig. She was a game little thing and never missed out on the litter's adventures and expeditions but clearly she was too tiny to withstand their boisterous ways and died overnight on Saturday. We suspect she was the last-born and was too late or slow to the teats thus missing out on the vital colostrum.

Other young things just learning to spread their wings are the last but one set of swallow nestlings. Their size forced them to leave the security of their nest on top on top of the striplight last week. Since then they've been perching on top of the Stalls partitions, practicing their flying from one to the other and then back to the hay rack. This morning, however, it was time for the real thing and whilst I was feeding the 4 young Clarissas in there, off they all flew, chirrupping excitedly. They were back in again this evening to sleep but in the next day or two they'll be gone for good. Leaving just one nest of hatchlings in Rocco's stable.

When they spread their wings to depart into the sunset in a week or two it will signal the end of summer.

Indoor hunting

2011-08-16T22:04:00.000+01:00

The other night The Boss and I were enjoying a quiet few minutes watching a rare favourite programme on the TV. I became aware of a banging noise coming from somewhere outside the Snug.
"What's that?" I asked Himself.
"What?" he asked
"That noise" I replied as the strange sounds continued: the banging turned to dull thumping.
"It's definitely coming from the hall" I said, getting up and walking in that direction, closely followed by The Bestest Gundog. I followed the noise; he followed his nose. We both ended up in the same place. In front of the sideboard. Waifa was there too. Looking, as we were, at........ well, nothing really for there was nothing to be seen. But The Dog's nose and The Cat's nose were both glued to the bottom of the sideboard. I looked over the back and there, tucked in the corner of the shallow alcove behind the furniture, was a cowering baby bunny. Himself moved the furniture a little away from the wall and planted his foot in the gap. The Dog guarded the exit at the other side and the cat the front whilst I sneaked in the back behind the foot....... And quickly grabbed the trembling little creature and took it outside, firmly shutting doors to keep cat and dogs indoors. I released the bunny in the field the other side of the bridleway where I hoped it might have a chance of getting away from further feline (or other) predators!

The next night as I was walking through to the kitchen from the Snug, followed again by The Bestest Gundog, I was overtaken by my canine companion. I wondered at his sudden hurry. On reaching the kitchen I was greeted by said dog coming towards me proudly carrying another young bunny. Behind him was That Cat with a look of annoyance about her. "He's pinched the dinner I bought you" she seemed to be saying!

Out went the dinner: it wasn't the same young bunny but even so I took it in another direction and released it. After a few moments to adjust to its unexpected freedom away it bounced.

It's not just that The Cat known as Waifa seems insistent on bringing us fresh meat for dinner (perhaps she thinks we should diversify away from Pork?) she also brings it in through the half-open scullery window. A very determined young madam indeed.

For a couple of days it went quiet. We had guests for the weekend. I was preparing the dinner on Saturday evening.

"Here comes Waifa with something in her mouth" exclaimed one of our guests in slight agitation. "Shut all the doors leading out of the kitchen" I said in equal agitation. Too late. Waifa dropped her gift on the floor. It ran. Behind the sofa. Followed by The Bestest Gundog. Under the sofa. Pursued by the latter's nose. We tipped up the sofa. Mouse ran into a corner. Dog sniffed and Mouse ran off again. This went on... and on.... for a while till finally The Dog caught it and triumphantly brought it to me. The Cat watched in disdain. Our guests were not entirely amused either. Charades before dinner anyone?

That wasn't the end of it. The Bestest Gundog is to be trusted in every situation; he never lies. But he has a handler who cannot always believe that. Anyway, the mouse was caught so the fact that the dog was pointing his nose in the direction of the kitchen cabinet did not mean the mouse was there. It was probably just the scent of it. "He's clearly pointing" said our guest, looking at The Bestest Gundog whose head was clearly tilted to one side, ears obviously alert and stubby tail quivering with anticipation.
Of What? There was nothing there. But our Guests and The Boss would have none of it. "The Dog thinks there is something there?" they all said.
So, down on my belly (how else to look under a floor standing kitchen cabinet?) and removing the facia panel at the bottom I, and my eager canine companion, peer under the cabinet. Actually, he tries to squeeze himself under the cabinet. Still I can see nothing - except loads of dust and dog hair. But the dog sniffs and excitedly runs round the other side of the cabinet. Followed by Yours Truly. Another facia panel is removed and "THERE He's got it!!" everyone yells at me. And sure enough, he had indeed got - another little mouse in his mouth! I think it's beyond a joke but everyone else is amused.
"Told you!" said The Boss, in that annoyingly knowing voice; "The Dog never lies!"

The following afternoon I came indoors with the dogs to:

"Alan's just seen something small and black, a bit like a slug, but with legs and it ran across the floor and disappeared!"
The Cat's little Joke is wearing thin........

"Why didn't you catch it?" I asked, slightly short-termpered.

"Because we're just a little squeamish and towney." replied my guest.

So - The Bestest gundog was summoned again.

And off he went. Round the kitchen, behind the sofa, sniffing here, there, everywhere; following the slug-on-legs' trail through kitchen, dining room, sitting room (because nobody thought to shut the doors!) until he located it behind ------ another sideboard. Which is far too heavy to move. So there the creature stayed. With The Dog's nose firmly attached to the underside of the sideboard. And we all got on with dinner.

"There is is!!!" shouted The Boss, mid-mouthful, making me almost choke on my air-dried ham and melon. At the cry the little shrew doubled back from the path it was about to take across the kitchen to the outside world...... and retreated to the safety of the sideboard again.
Well. The Bestest Gundog stayed on guard. We all continued with dinner. The creature didn't appear again and we all forgot about it.
Some things take precedence over guarding intruders though and Gunner and Pilot both joined me in the pantry whilst I prepared their dinner. It's one of the most favourite times of the day for Gunner. Just as we came out of the door heading for the scullery Pilot's caught sight of something by the kitchen cabinet ---- and off he darted, quicker than I thought he could still dart and, with a sudden scrambling lunge, caught the shrew in the corner just before it rounded it and made the sanctuary of the sideboard again.
I don't know who was more surprised, Pilot or I. Perhaps he was because I said "Drop it" rather sternly and, for the only time in his life that I can remember, he actually did drop it. That stopped me in my tracks! But I recovered just in time to scoop the little beastie up before it recovered from the shock and set off for the sideboard again. And I took it outside and put it in the flower bed.
It's now Tuesday and - I think - Waifa has tired of that little game. It's all gone quiet. The guests have left (not because of the animal antics, although maybe....?) and indoor hunting is off the agenda.

What was that just running across the floor.................?

News from Afar

2011-08-10T21:43:00.000+01:00

Regular readers will recall that earlier this year Andromeda went on a journey away from RectoryReserve in order to meet her husband-to-be - J.D. We went to visit her in May, when we took this photo and since then her Landlord, the Nice Mr Thomas, has been giving us regular reports on her demeanour and welfare.
She and JD, we were told, hit it off and all was set for piglets to arrive the mandatory 3 months, 3 weeks and 3 days later: i.e. sometime in early August.
We were delighted, therefore, to hear the happy news of the birth of her piglets on the 5th and asked the Nice Mr T to send us some pictures of the family, intending, inter alia, to post one or two with the announcement on this very blog. However, as is often the way with young mothers, it would seem she's been keeping them out of sight and no photos have yet been forthcoming.
"Andromeda chased Keith (Mr T) across the pen with such ferocity this afternoon that he had to vault over the fence to save himself" said The Boss with a wicked grin when he came through to the kitchen for dinner this evening.
"Good mother then?" I replied "Did he manage to confirm how many piglets she's had?"
"No" said he "He was more concerned to save his skin!".
When The Nice Mr T told us the birth was on the 5th, he said he thought there were 5 of them but he wasn't sure: maybe he'll be able to see from afar tomorrow and let us know! Don't suppose he'll be wanting to go and have a close look for a little while yet!
She'll make a good mother....

The difference with mature mothers..

2011-08-08T22:11:00.000+01:00

Precious is from Ginger and Mangal's first litter, born in November 2007. Her litter, born on the morning of 2nd August, was her 6th. That makes her a pretty mature mother. Maybe explains some things too.
Firstly, the night before giving birth to her piglets, Precious was out and about and asking for her nightly pick of grass as usual. There wasn't any sign of nesting to be seen. Or maybe, since she wasn't due for another week or so, I didn't really look. Being mature, she clearly knew there was no need to rush things. "The night is yet young" she must have thought to herself.
The next morning, therefore, I was taken aback when she didn't come out promptly for breakfast. It took me a few minutes to catch on. But I was still surpised when I peered at the entrance to her ark and saw the distinct outline of piglets.
By the time I'd done the breakfast round, however, she was out and eating heartily from her bowl. Whilst she was otherwise engaged I climbed into her pen and looked in the ark. And counted 8 little wriggly bodies. Some of them still very small and slimey wet.
"AAAhh" I thought "Only just been born."
But as I walked back home for breakfast I was just a little bit disappointed. Up till now, apart from the first litter, she has alternately farrowed 9 or 10 piglets each time.
"Must be her age. She's a mature sow now" I thought to myself and went about the rest of my day.
Before she was going home, Linda checked in.
"Precious and her piglets all doing fine" she said "And I definitely counted 10!" she added chirpily. I smiled and thought: "That's the thing with mature mothers, they get their priorities right.... give birth to some piglets, have a bite to eat to restore some energy and then go back and give birth to the rest.... Clever girl."
That also explained why some of the piglets were so wet and also why, when I looked at Precious eating her breakfast, she still had blood on her posterior.
Two mornings later I was amazed to see four of the just 48-hour-old litter merrily, if somewhat precariously, tottering around the muddy pen. Precious was keeping her snout firmly within sniffing distance to give them support and reassurance.
That's another thing with mature mothers. No molly-coddling. The Kids want to go out and explore? So be it.

Later in the day, I was amazed to see all 10 piglets out and about in the sunshine and quite happy to be away from their mother. Safety in numbers, as ever. Gunner sat beside me looking in at their pen.

"Looks like another bundle of trouble I'll have to sort out" he was probably thinking to himself!

Precious didn't leave them alone for too long though. She turned, counted them all (sows do that: every time they are reunited with their piglets - whether after a short food break, or a longer adventure when the piglets have been out exploring, the mother always counts them) and then urged them back into the ark for their tea.

Which is another thing about mature mothers. No panic. Let the children play then quietly take them home, feed them and put them to bed till it's time for another adventure.
That's the difference with Mature Mothers. They don't worry about a thing. And that means nor do we.

All's well...

2011-08-05T20:45:00.000+01:00

It was really hot on Wednesday. There were some thunderstorms but, apart from a few heavy showers, the rain largely missed Fulletby. Lucky for me: I had a shooting lesson in the afternoon - it rained before ....and after, but not during. The shooting went very well.
Yesterday it rained all day. We had our lowest generation (from the solar panels) ever. The pigs were able to wallow to their hearts' content - 'cept they didn't really want to, it not being exactly hot! After our hack round the lanes, I put the horses out in the field - the reasons for keeping them in during the day (heat and flies) being absent. Mr Ritz promptly walked up to the not-on electric fence, looked at me and then proceeded to walk straight through it (his latest trick - new battery now on the to-buy list). "You don't expect me to stay out here in the rain?" he said - in his way.
Hanna, our latest student-on-work-experience, got splattered in mud when we fed the pigs at tea time.
"Par for the course!" I told her. (She turned up in more workmanlike colours today rather than the creams and whites of yesterday! Learned something then.)
We don't have bad days here, but it did rank as 'not a particularly good day'.
Then when I went out to do evening rounds and shut up the poultry this scene is what greeted me. The photo doesn't do it justice. The whole sky was the most glorious golden pink. How could a person not feel good?
"All's well...." etc then, and I went to sleep thinking it had not been too bad a day at all.......

Precious Delivers another tenner

2011-08-03T22:14:00.000+01:00

To Samson and Precious a pile of ten wriggly piglets; born before and after breakfast on Tuesday 2 August. Mother and little ones doing well.

Full details to follow........

Showtime again

2011-08-02T22:22:00.000+01:00

Last weekend was one of the favourites in our Calendar. The annual Heckington Agricultural Show, now in its 144th year, is a great place to mix business with pleasure. It's one of the delights we only discovered when the Curly Coats came into our lives and this year was our 4th and, if anything, it was the best yet. Last year saw record attendance of 25,000; the numbers haven't all been compiled yet, but I'm certain they will be well up on that.

In previous years we have taken Ginger's offspring but as all her female 'Deserts' are out with custodians we took our burgeoning filmstars (Well? BBC in Spring, ITV in Summer - maybe MGM in Autumn?) We polished and primped and permed them for their 2-day sojourn. Hard work ! But well worth it for all the attention and admiration they attracted! They loved playing to the Gallery but it did wear them out. We were a little worried they might be upset by the fireworks and band playing well into the night but they settled down and went to sleep straight after dinner- Zonked!

It wasn't just the Curly Coats who were tired after the show. Gunner's been coming with us every year and takes his Guard duties very seriously. Being such a handsome hound he attracts almost as much attention as the pigs, praised and petted by children and adults alike. It's testimony to his laid back nature that he puts up with it all. Even when we put him behind our chairs for a bit of a rest - though he did sleep some of the time - he mostly watched everything going on around him. He made up for it when we got home: Apart from waking up for his dinner and having a brief run before bed, he was out for the count.

We're always located in the Heritage Breeds tent alongside some magnificent Lincoln Red Cattle and these rather amazing Lincoln Longwool sheep - it being THE show for this breed. The county's wealth was built on their fleece and it's easy to see why from these prime examples. The sheep in the foreground would have been shorn last March and the one in the background in March the previous year. It was seriously hot over the weekend which speaks much for the animals' constitution. Fortunately for them, one of the main features of the show is the Shearing at the end of Sunday afternoon. Not surprisingly they wait patiently in line for their turn to feel fresh air on their skins. There is a considerable prize, not to mention honour, for the heaviest fleece!

Another of this County's heritage breeds is the Shire Horse. Heckington features the usual showing classes but there are also opportunities to see the horses being harnessed up for work - intrepid members of the crowd can volunteer to help and try their hand at driving them!. The Handler providing the demonstration on Saturday explained that his Prize ploughing mare had particularly small feet - a sought after trait, not only because the cost of shoes was lower, but because she did not tread down the walls of the furrows as she walked between them! The ploughing matches are a great draw as well, particularly since they include some of the early machines which gradually replaced the horses.

Whether or not these provided a better finished article I wouldn't know but they did underline in Bold the majesty and grace of their four-legged forebears. The rapport between man and beast - as the handler explained "We have only our voices and our hands on the reins to tell them what to do" - lent a certain romance to an otherwise toilsome task. Working with creatures like those must have been like Showtime every day.......

New Chick on the Block

2011-07-28T22:18:00.000+01:00

The bantams have been at it again. For three weeks two hens sat on several eggs. And then the day before yesterday out came this little chick. They sat for another 24 hours and out came another chick. But I think they must have argued about whose that one was because by evening the poor little thing had been trampled all over. It didn't stand a chance. Now the two mother hens are both fussing over the one little chick and take it in turns to shelter it under their wing; the white cockerel has clearly decided he's the father and fusses around them all the time.
That makes a total of 5 bantam chicks hatched this summer and still pecking around - so far. But I'll not take bets that they'll still be here come the winter.

Meanwhile in the stable barn another chirrupping family of swallows has recently hatched and is currently being fed by what appears to be three adult birds. Occasionally, one sits on the nest - perhaps passing on wisdom in lieue of flies. Now that the harvest is slowly getting underway there is no shortage of food for them so I don't imagine it'll be all that long before they are out of the nest and on the beams for their first flying lesson.
Whilst we were having dinner this evening we witnessed a lesson of a different kind. It would seem that the area bordered by our house, the old Coach House/new garage block and the tall Pine Trees, is a favoured training air for swallow parents to teach their fledglings how to swoop and dive whilst catching food. Every now and then, for 6 or 7 minutes at a time, the air is full of masses of swallows who suddenly appear from nowhere and start whizzing up and down and to and fro, accompanied by loud, insistent chirrupping. Then, as suddenly as they arrived they are gone. Where to? Across the fields in search of real flies I imagine. One short lesson from their parents and then they are expected to fend for themselves. Is that where the phrase "On a wing and a prayer" comes from?

The real piece de resistance as far as RectoryReserve's birdworld is concerned though occurred this morning when I was off in the car on my rounds. Motoring up the drive I caught something in my peripheral vision that caused me to almost swerve up the bank and into the Ash tree. I drew to a halt and looked back and, sure enough, there it was on a fence post. I quietly got out of the car and took a couple of snaps. It didn't move. Since I'd driven past it once I decided to drive slowly back to it. Still it didn't move, except to turn its head very slowly in my direction. I let down the passenger side window, intending to take a photo from this close distance. I couldn't have been much more than 5 or 6 feet away. It remained unmoving, gazing down at me insouciantly as if I were a fly that had strayed into its line of sight. The little camera couldn't focus from inside the car so I leaned gently over towards the passenger side of the car. The Barn Owl gave me an imperious glance and then oh so slowly and silently spread its wings and sailed off across the field. I was mesmerised, camera completely forgotten.
I don't imagine I will ever again have the good fortune to get so close to a Barn Owl. It's not often life chucks a diamond in your face. Truly a moment to treasure.

Auf Wiedersehen Truffle

2011-07-26T19:53:00.000+01:00

Despite the fact that Mangal is a Swallowbelly we get very few piglets of that colouring here. In fact, to date only two litters have included swallowbellies as half their number. The first was the Stars (or Delinquents as they later became known) - of which Andromeda is a member - born to Delila and Clyde. The second was the Truffles, born of Cherie and Clyde, the latter being the first born son of Tang and Precious, she out of Ginger and Mangal. (I put that lot in for the benefit of the Ancestry people amongst you!).
The Swallowbellies are slightly different in shape and temperament from the Blonde or red Mangalitzas. Physically, they are somewhat longer of back and snout and temperamentally (from our experience of them) they are a little more feisty. Andromeda was marked out for breeding from an early age - for those reasons but also to keep Clyde's bloodline going. He's unfortunately no longer with us - he failed the personality test quite early on so we took the difficult decision to end his presence before he became a problem. One thing we don't need is a problem boar!

The Truffle litter, also being of Clyde's line, was briefly considered early on for breeding but it was only when Truffle returned from School with her excluded mate, Aster, that we noticed what a nice looking young gilt she had turned into. (That's what a good school can do for a Girl!). She's strong, well marked and quite chunky for a Swallowbelly and has eyelashes to die for!
"She'd make a good wife for JD" we said to each other. Andromeda is already JD's No 3 wife after Bonnie (ex. Precious and Tang) and Lotos (ex. Ginger and Mangal) and is expecting their first litter in the first half of August. So yesterday afternoon Truffle left here to go off to the same Livery yard with the Nice Mr Thomas.
She made a bit of a fuss about leaving the safety of the Holding Pen for 'That Strange Trailer' but with a little persuasion realised that 'actually' it was about time for another adventure! She'll be in quarantine again (that's why she was in the Temporary HP here since coming home from school) for three weeks which is a(nother) bore for her but after that she'll be introduced to JD.
I'm sure they'll get on well with each other but if not it'll be the Nice Mr. T who'll be saying "Auf Wiedersehen Truffle."!

Not everything is green and pleasant

2011-07-24T19:59:00.000+01:00

The fox returned early last week.
Ever since her first visit I've been shutting up the poultry extra early each evening.
On this particular day it had been pouring with rain since dawn so maybe she'd been frustrated in her hunting attempts elsewhere. The rain eased off by tea time.
I went out to shut up the birds around 7.30pm. The bantams, as ever, had already retired for the night. I herded the ducks into the main hen house, where the chickens had already gone to roost and shut up the ducks and chickens in the doghouse pen next door. All as normal.
Lastly, as usual, I went down to the field pen to shut up the nursery.
It was ominously silent. ....
No birds.
Nothing remained but two piles of golden Buff feathers.
Bloody fox.
I cursed and screamed at the pigs. Fat lot of good that did.
Then I realised why one of the ducks in the main hen house was making so much noise. She was the mother of the ducklings. She'd presumably managed to fly away. Sadly she continued looking for her family for the next two days, quacking loudly as she waddled through all the pig pens and surrounding areas.
On the third day Gunner brought her remains to me.
The fox got her too - or it could have been a polecat judging from the carcase.
Not everything in the countryside is green and pleasant.

Anybody out there?

2011-07-19T21:08:00.000+01:00

I am told that the RSPCA recommend an area of 36sq.m. per outdoor pig and, thinking about it, that's probably the average size of an old fashioned sty. We run a Pig Custodian scheme. People who love pigs and wish to 'own' them can take them from us as weaners, look after them as their own and, when we all agree the time is right for them to go to the big sty in the sky, we go and collect them. In exchange, the Custodians receive a 'provisions credit' to the value of the feed costs attributed to the pigs during the intervening months.

One of the questions always asked is "How big does the pen need to be?" There is no fixed size. Large enough for the little chaps to run around and rootle in with room for a shelter and some shade. But after that it depends very much on the Custodians' circumstances and constraints.

Yesterday we delivered two of Mangal and Ginger's Little Deserts to their new home in the North of the County. It was a very blustery, damp day but that didn't tarnish the anticipation with which they were awaited. As is our wont with little weaners, we transported them in a dog cage in the back of the 4x4 so on arrival we drove through the gates and directly up to the new pen.

Which is palatial!

"It's as well to get used to holding them from the start" said The Boss and duly gave instructions as to how that was most effectively achieved. Following which their new 'family' unloaded them without too much bother (!!!) and put them out in their new home ....and off they ran.... and ran....and ran. Since they were unloaded one at a time, they ran in different directions ---- and it took a minute or two before they found each other again. Then they ran and ran and ran along the fencing - "Are we nearly there?" you could almost hear them grunting!
We left them exploring whilst we all went indoors to do the paperwork over a cup of tea.......
"If you are thinking up names for them they're from the litter named after Deserts." explained the boss at one point. "Yes. Yes. We thought we'd call them Spamalot and Dorothy Porkins" said their new Boss. We were taken aback - slightly. But the new Boss was adamant. Turns out they're characters from a story which he used to read to his son when he was just a piglet! And Spamalot had other connotations which also made them smile!
So... Spamalot and Dorothy Perkins it is.
And before we left we went to have another look at them; they were still trotting along the perimeter fence. Having been confined in the stalls since weaning it's little wonder the wide outdoors seemed so very wide. And not another piglet in sight. In fact not another anything in sight. Just not anybody out there.
It'll take a bit of getting used to. But they'll be alright. Though they can't see them, there are chickens a little way off and there are sheep to come at some stage and maybe some horses later so their 'outside world' will not be empty for too long......

Post natal blues

2011-07-16T13:43:00.000+01:00

With animals you always have to expect the unexpected!
Nine days after her piglets had been born Aster gave us all a bit of a scare. She had an upset tum and retched up some bile a few times. She stopped eating! Not a mouthful passed her lips for more than 36 hours. By Wednesday evening we were worried. She just slept; stirring to suckle Barbie (yes! definitely two girls and a boy!), Joan and Lawrence but otherwise just lying there. Occasionally she'd get up, look in her bowl and then just walk off and go back to sleep. At shutting up time on Wednesday night I made a small bowl of gruel and she nibbled a handful before going back to sleep.

The piglets continued to behave as normal; sleeping, playing, trying to wake mum up!!!
Everything was just too much though.
Thursday morning before going off to market I mixed up another small bowl of gruel and stayed with her whilst she ate a little of it. In the afternoon we rang the vet. Who listened attentively and made some suggestions. Said to ring him next morning if she hadn't perked up.
Well -- that did it.
Thursday evening she ate up all the gruel.
Friday morning she ate up all the gruel at first breakfast. And second breakfast.
"There's nothing wrong with her" reported Linda later.... "Just a typical teenager wanting to sleep all day!"
"It was the mention of getting the vet out" said The Boss. "That made her better!".
Whatever it was, she is now fully back to normal and happily getting on with "Life with Piglets in the Barn."
Thinking of it, though, she did have a lot of upheaval in a short space of time - sent home from school, separated from her mate, no children to pet and play with her, the whole 'searching for a nest' disruption, an invasion of piglings, constant demands for attention (and she hadn't had long enough at school to get to the lesson about the birds and the bees so how confusing was that?), changes in diet and lifestyle and - the most impossible bit to handle - absolutely no me-time anymore....... What's a girl to do but shut down for a few days?
A clearer case of post piglet blues would be hard to find.....

8 days later

2011-07-12T20:31:00.000+01:00

Aster's first 8 days of motherhood have largely been spent as you see above. She's the first of our sows to farrow indoors and it has been a learning curve for us as much as Aster. She's got quite used to us popping in to watch or have a few words and rather likes to have her back or ears scratched. Most of the time the family spend asleep, either with the piglets lying nose to tail between Mum's snout and the wall or tucked up in or under a nest of straw. They suckle frequently, briefly and - with no need to argue about, or fight over, which teat to use - very quietly. They are altogether very quiet , perhaps because there are so few of them or maybe it is the result of being away from the rest of the herd. Will this continue or will they grow to be as rumbustious as all our other piglets I wonder?

In the last few days they have begun investigating their world and venture further and longer away from Mum. The quietest grunt from her though and they scamper quickly back. They've already discovered a place where they can crawl under the hurdles and get away from mum so I imagine in a couple of weeks they'll be exploring the rest of the barn. That'll be fun. In the meantime they have been named.
"I'd like to call the little girl Joan after my friend who passed away today" said Linda reflectively last Thursday. "She'd be amused to have a pig named after her!"
"We'll have to name one of the boys Darby then!" said The Boss "And the other one can be Lawrence after the school" I added.
Trouble is we're not sure if it's 2 girls and 1 boy or the other way round so Darby could well turn out to be Darbie ...... time will tell.....

Honour satisfied

2011-07-10T20:53:00.001+01:00

It was a grand day for a competition. The dog knew something was up when I packed the shooting bag with essentials for the day - spare lead, water, chewstick treats...... Keenly jumped in the car and off we went. The hosts laid on bacon rolls and tea for breakfast. There was a general air of nervousness about the place. One or two of our team members were verging on panic and went off to "have a heart to heart" with their canine companions.
Our opponents arrived. "Oh No" the dog and I both thought when we saw him. "They've called in Real Professionals". For there he was - Rory the Trainer. No pressure then. During the briefing we were reminded that this was a Fun Day and 'serious competitive behaviour' would be frowned on! Worse still, He-the-Trainer was on the Gundog team that our spaniel team were paired against. So he'd be able to witness our every move. That would be fun. We did have one Labrador on our team, Troy, who was handled by a junior champion but the others were all Cockers.

There were four sets of tests, each involving two retrieves marked out of 10 and team members ran alternately - ie One of them followed by one of us. The first test was a marked retrieve followed by a blind retrieve. Scenting conditions were very poor. Gunner easily picked the first (10 points) but deviated towards the gun for the second - which, in fact, was in the same place as the first. Given corrective instructions he was straight on it (7 /10). The second test consisted of three hidden dummies; a shot was fired and the dog had to be sent to 'find' first one and then a second. The dog lost one point on the first but scored 10 on the second. Third test was a dummy into the pond and then a dummy thrown to an accompanying shot beyond the pond. With one exception, all the dogs 'saw' the second dummy fall in the reeds at the edge of the pond. It was made more difficult because once the dog rounded the side of the pond he was out of sight to the handler. Gunner scored 10 on the water retrieve but took a while to be handled out of the reeds and back round the corner to be sent back for the second - 5/10. "Honest, persistant dog" commented the judge. The final test was two marked retrieves - in each case a dummy thrown to an accompanying gun shot. The BGiatW scored a full house for those. "Nothing wrong with the Dog" commented the judge. Rory-the-trainer was complimentary in his own way as he explained to those about him that this was the dog that he didn't think "would amount to much" when he first saw him and who had proved him wrong ever since! High praise indeed. (He and his labrador scored a total of 74/80 so we were not far behind him!!! Well done the Dog!!!)

So although our team came last, Gunner came home with a certificate for the best dog (71/80) in a non-winning team! Not bad for his first competitive attempt. The handler came home with a prize too (a bottle of wine)! After lunch - generously provided by our hosts - a dummy throwing competition was staged whilst the scores were added up. Competitors had to throw 5 dummies into a dustbin from a marked distance - and yours truly scored 4/5 and won! "I'll expect the same accuracy tomorrow!" remarked our Shooting Instructor - he who had roped us into this competition in the first place!
Honour was satisfied all round....

Testing times

2011-07-09T18:56:00.000+01:00

"Your dog any good at retrieving?" asked the Shooting Instructor a month back.
"Does everything he's asked" I replied.
"We've a friendly competition against the United Lincolnshire Gundog Club in a month or so. We're short of spaniels. Want to come along?" (Who said Mug?)
So, tomorrow is the day and we're off to help fly the flag for spaniels. The ULGC is all labradors. So the fighting spirit is roused. WE all know a spaniel is worth 10 Labs any day (On the other hand, Labador people will tell you that a Labrador is born half trained whereas a spaniel dies half trained.....). Of course we'll win then.
So we had a bit of a practice this afternoon.
Maybe we won't win.
Some of our team mates are a little keen.... on doing their own thing..... "Retrieve? Out of season you know" I think a few of the Cockers were saying. "WATER! GREAT! No. Definitely nothing on land. All in water!" as they ignored the bank dummies and headed straight for water...... Had to avert The Bestest Gundog's eyes. Can't have him learning their faults!
He was a star. I've fed him speed bubbles for dinner - that'll make him a shooting star then?

...a Crowd

2011-07-05T22:11:00.000+01:00

Here's proud mum at mid-day resting with her own little crowd........

Asteroid in search of a nest

2011-07-04T20:57:00.002+01:00

"There's a pig outside the window!" exclaimed The Boss after lunch. I'd just finished bottling up Loganberry Jam and was en route to whipping the cream for the frozen gooseberry fool; my mind was fully occupied with such mundane kitchen matters - and The Bestest Gundog in all The World whom I'd had to leave at the Vet's just before lunch for what turned out to be extraction of grass seeds from his two front paws - so I was totally nonplussed by his words. More precisely, they just didn't register!!
"There's a pig outside the kitchen window!" he repeated, getting to his feet - definitely a sign of something serious. So I switched my focus and sure enough looking up at me from the other side of the window was our very pregnant little Asteroid. I hastened after The Boss who, ignoring the pig, was moving speedily towards the barn to find out how and where she had managed to get out. Very logical but not my first thought........ For a while I watched the pig who mooched here and there as if looking for something.

Ignoring my attempts to cajole her where I wanted her to go, she trotted off in the direction of her mate Truffle - snout down, intent and preoccupied. I joined The Boss who was securing the pen in the barn. Then we tried to round up our wanderer. To no avail. She was too quick and too focused on her concerns to pander to our wishes. Time to call in reinforcements!
Luckily Tony was home and responded to my plea for help with a prompt: "I'm already on my way." It took him only ten minutes but in that time Aster had trotted around the yard, into the orchard, round the chickens' pen in the field, along the bank, inspected Rocco's old stable and then back up to Ginger and Mangal - perhaps thinking they would have the answers she sought.
Good choice for her. Better choice for us because it's a relatively easily enclosed area and we were able to funnel her into the trailer which Tony had deftly backed up as close as possible. She eagerly stuck her snout in all the fresh straw:
"That's what she was looking for" said The Boss "More nesting material!".
Tony then drove her back round to the barn and, after such Big Adventures, she was visibly relieved to be home. At least she trotted determinedly off the trailer as if pleased to be back where she started!
"Better give her lots more bedding" advised The Boss.
A sack of shavings and another bale of straw went in. She had a good snout around and then went in search of water.

After much cooling and wallowing she had a bit of a lie-down - just to regroup her thoughts I suppose. Then she set about the serious business of nesting.
"Let's leave her to it and go and have a cooling drink." I suggested. And off we went.
At tea time, an hour or so later, she was still doing the housework.
I checked again at 6 o'clock and still nothing.
But by the time I went to shut up the nursery chicks unmistakeable sounds of piglets suckling and mum gruntling were coming from the barn. Quiet as I could I crept closer. However, clever young Aster had built such a deep nest I could see only the top of her back. After several minutes I'd seen two piglets pop up for air or a top level teat .... how many, if any, others there are, I have no way of knowing. With her being a young first time mother there was no way I wanted to startle her in any way. We'll all just have to be patient.

Welcome noise

2011-07-01T21:10:00.001+01:00

The stable barn is resounding again with the sound of swallows frantically feeding their young. This time the nest looks secure and is in the centre of the roof above Ritz's stable door. Earlier this week, whilst eating dinner one evening, The Boss and I were entertained by another family of swallows swooping and swirling above and about the lawn outside the kitchen window. Clearly the adults were teaching their young the rudiments of maneouvring and fly-catching around natural hazards like trees and buildings. The constant chirruping and balletic antics of these birds surely encapsulate all that is joyous about a warm summers' day?

Meanwhile, out in the Poultry nursery the four bantam chicks have doubled in size, the solitary duckling and his mum have been totally accepted into their little flock (where another of the bantams is now busily 'sitting' on a nest of eggs) and out in the Buff's pen the mother hen and duck are still proudly parenting their little brood of one chick and three ducklings. Luckily the latter are all pale yellow so neither Hen nor Duck notice any difference or, if they do, it matters not to them. Every morning when I open their little house the welcome noise as they all tumble out together brings a smile to my face.

Excluded from school

2011-06-28T16:24:00.000+01:00

Last year we sent a couple of young gilts to St Lawrence's School in Horncastle which caters for children who have special skills and/or needs. Sausage and Bacon, as they came to be called, returned to us at the end of their 'educational stay' the very model of the perfect Curly Coat pig. So much so that their photograph adorns our entrance porch.
Being asked for two more gilts this year, we were more than delighted to oblige. Whilst Sausage and Bacon went soon after weaning, this year's Intake were deliberately older because the time available to them at the school was considerably shorter and we thought it might be a little unsettling for youngsters - they'd only just be getting into their lessons when they'd have to stop. Thus it was that a Truffle and an Asteroid left here some 6 weeks ago.
"I think one of the girls is pregnant!" came the frantic call on Saturday morning. To say The Boss and I were surprised was an understatement. Between the phone call and going to see for ourselves an hour later we scratched our heads, consulted the wall chart (detailing the history of the whole herd), weighed up the possibilities and finally concluded that there was a very small chance that the Asteroid could have been impregnated by her brother in the depths of winter when we considered them far too immature for such behaviour.
"Clearly they found a way to keep warm through the cold snowy nights" opined Linda - "And him with a prolapse too!" Which was one of the reasons he was with two of the girls: he'd been getting pushed around by the other boys so we thought he'd be 'safer' with the two girls! And wasn't he just! The other reason he stayed with the girls longer than would otherwise have been the case was because of the inclement weather making it too difficult to move him. And, of course, we thought it would all be OK.

Piglets born at the school would have been wonderful for the children but not with the summer holidays fast approaching so it seemed best alround to bring the two girls home a.s.a.p. "Fancy being excluded from school for being in pig" I said to The Boss. When she found herself in the barn with a full bowl of food the little Asteroid was quite contented. Which was more than could be said for her Truffle companion, who spent quite a while looking up (literally) and down for her companion. Of course, the whole herd is now in quarantine for three weeks so hopefully she'll settle down soon because she's going nowhere else in a hurry.

Meanwhile, with needing to put the pregnant pig in the barn the duck who has been in there with her solitary duckling these past three weeks or so had to move to the outdoor pen with the bantams. The duckling was a bit confused about being placed in a deep bucket for his journey to the outside world - and I think mother duck was rather indignant too. But that was all forgiven when they realised they were outside with water to swim in. Mind you I had to swap the water bowl in the photo for a plant water tray because the duckling couldn't scrabble out. Poor thing, I found him squeaking for all he was worth and trying to jump out but his little wings are still to weak to flap. He's happy enough now in his tray though.

Armed Forces Day

2011-06-26T21:05:00.000+01:00

What could be better on a hot and sultry summer afternoon than to linger in the shade marvelling at the antics of a troupe of Morris Dancers. We particularly admired these chaps since (a) they were dancing energetically in ridiculously hot conditions and (b) the organisers had seemingly ommitted to tell anyone that they were coming so there was hardly anyone about - most having succumbed to the heat and wandered homewards after the marching bands and childrens' choir had done their bit - to witness their art. But, as I said, we emjoyed it.

The point of our being there was to support the town's Armed Forces Day - one of a series of activities planned throughout the country over the weekend to pay tribute to all those who give their work and lives in support of the nation, whether at home or overseas. A worthy cause and one we were more than happy to donate our time to as well as 20% of our takings going to Help 4 Heroes. It wasn't very well (if at all?) marketed so the anticipated crowds didn't materialise and we didn't raise as much as we'd hoped but "every little bit helps" as they say and - looking on the bright side - we got back home earlier than planned!

Bedtime

2011-06-25T21:42:00.000+01:00

Remember that Buff hen who survived the fox attack because she was helping the duck sit on her nest of eggs! Well, I've just been out to shut them all up and this was the scene tonight. You can probably just see a little duckling poking out from under her wing and in front of her you'll be able to make out the duck, who has a chick and two more ducklings under her wings (which you can't see). All just one big happy family.
Aaaahhhh

Night Owls

2011-06-23T20:15:00.001+01:00

We've got an international group of Mangalitza people coming tomorrow to visit the pigs and sample some products, en route to the inaugural Annual Conference up in Aberdeenshire. That'll be fun. I have a sense of impending chaos but no doubt it'll all 'turn out alright on the night' - as they say.
Speaking of night, the Martian Deserts are becoming ever more independent of their mum. It really is most disconcerting when checking round just before dark to suddenly be assailed by the unmistakeable snuffling and scuttling of a bunch of adventurous piglets at your heels. As Linda said, "Wherever you turn, there they are - in this, up that, over and under everything else".

In his customarily gentle fashion, Gunner last night told the most persistent three little stop-outs a bit of a bedtime pigtail - after which, off they trotted to Mum (you can probably just make her out in the background) and then to bed!
They are now past the magical 7 weeks though and their wanderings will end when we wean them tomorrow afternoon. Sad to restrain such energetic little spirits - we'll miss their cheeky presence about the yard/garden/outbuildings/fields but Ginger is starting to look tired and Mangal is starting to look longingly in her direction.
But there we are - one set of games in the dark will end and soon another will begin. Night owls - the lot of them....!

The drought continues..

2011-06-22T21:09:00.000+01:00

Since drought was officially declared hardly a day has passed that it hasn't rained. This is good news for many reasons. Everywhere the grass is growing - on our favourite hunting ground the Bestest Gundog in all the World is almost impossible to see half the time (good for dog maybe, not so good for his boss!).

In the orchard the apples are filling and ripening; the cooler weather has led to many of the smaller fruits dropping already but those that are left should be more than enough to keep us and the pigs and the ponies going well into the winter. A bumper crop of gooseberries means we'll have gooseberry and mint jelly with (possibly all!) the game this winter and we may well tire of gooseberry fool before the week is out! And the loganberries will be ready for making into jam next week - a fortnight or more earlier than in any previous year.

Meanwile in the rose garden, although some of the earlier blooms are past their best, the Rambling Rector is more than living up to its name and is well on the way to taking over the whole estate! Its supporting arch has been reinforced and some of the windswept branches have been trimmed back but still it grows from strength to strength.

Of course, the farmers still say the rain is too late to rectify the damage the drought has already caused and - needless to add - prices will rocket as the year goes on. No doubt we will also learn that the drought which stopped the grass growing in time to make hay was not half as bad as the rain which never stopped falling as soon as it was time to start cutting. Unless of course the drought continues, in which case there will be no hay either way.
(Goodness, sounds like I been living in the country too long........?????)

Breakfast Monitor

2011-06-19T18:25:00.002+01:00

It was our "Fathers' (Mangal & Samson) Open Day" and, as part of the lead up to the proceedings, we ran a competition to name Ginger's Little Deserts. The stand-out winner imaginatively suggested the names of some of the deserts on Mars. Such a creative idea we just knew that Mangal and Ginger would approve. So, we now have: (boys) Prometheus, Noa, Tyrrhenus, Cimmerian and Meridan and (girls) Siren, Sabea and Aonia. Nice or what?
"Martians is appropriate" I said to The Boss when he read the Entry out to me "From the way they keep investigating every nook and cranny (including my newly planted flower pots and the kitchen lawn) you'd think they were aliens trying to suss things out." Actually, I suppose that's just what piglets are.
Anyway, they spend more time out of Mum's pen than in it. Starting with breakfast. They tumble through the fence wire and scramble into the food bowls before I have time to put them in the pen with Ginger. Gunner has assumed the role of Breakfast Monitor and takes it as a matter of pride to ensure they assemble in one place till the bowls are cleaned up. Not something the Martian Deserts object to!

Ginger doesn't complain at all; (a) because at least one, and sometimes, two of the piglets stay and share her bowl and (b) because she probably gets to eat more of her own food than if they were all trying to get in her bowl! Apart from that, having been through the process 7 times before, she knows that it'll soon be weaning time. (Memo to keep an eye on Mangal because any day now he'll start collecting bowls for Ginger's return!).

With the exception of Ginger, all the pigs are now on a new breakfast regime of fresh vegetables only. The Big Boss has set up an arrangement with a local producer and packer whereby we collect trugs of fresh green produce every week - goods which would otherwise be destined for the leading supermarkets but which are past their 'keep-by' date. One week it's cauliflower, another it's pointy or savoy cabbage, next it could be broccoli or whatever - or it could be a mix of any or all. Mostly the veg. is fresher than it would be off the supermarket shelves because it comes straight from the chiller. Anyway, the pigs love it although some of them like one type of veg more than another. It gives them a more varied diet and one which they can 'graze' on for much of the day and they also then look forward to a change at tea time when they have their proprietary pig feed as well as veg. Best of all, the greens are all organic so we can maintain our "no additives, no preservatives" ethos. Plus with substituting vegetables for some breakfast we can more easily monitor the expanding waistlines - something which Samson, below, is very keen on!

Broken Home

2011-06-15T21:08:00.000+01:00

Looking through the window I can see the rain falling outside as I write. However, despite this recent wet spell the effects of the long drought continue to reverberate.
Quite early on in the Spring a news item featured the difficulty swallows were experiencing trying to build their nests with next to no mud available to glue them together. The Big Boss himself had commented on the fact that he'd never before seen swallows spending time in the pigs' wallows. Clearly they were fetching out what mud they could.
In previous summers we have had up to half a dozen pairs of these birds nesting in the horses' stable barn and usually a few more in the other outbuildings. This year we have just three breeding pairs. One of these chose to refurbish an old nest above the water drinker in Ritz's stable. Since the end of last week the parents have been noisily and constantly flitting in and out trying to keep up with their young family's voracious appetite. I spent a few moments watching them whilst Ritz was eating his breakfast yesterday morning.

Mucking out later in the afternoon I noticed how quiet it was. Swallows are the chirpiest of birds. Gunner stood up at Ritz's drinker. I misunderstood and, thinking he was thirsty, offered him a bucket of water. He didn't want it but returned to the drinker. Following him I looked to see what had caught his attention. There in the water lay two drowned hatchlings. Looking up I saw why. Their nest had collapsed. Their frantic cheeping for attention and food presumably caused the frail fabric to give way.
The parents spent the night in the barn.
This morning theyere noisily investigating all the beams and corners. Broken homes can be very traumatic.

Just another day

2011-06-14T20:53:00.000+01:00

We've had two or three days of mostly rain since being declared an official Drought region but, thankfully (we really do prefer warm sunny days) today blue skies and sunshine returned and we've enjoyed a classic British Summer Day.

Ginger's little Deserts haven taken to sleeping on the outward facing side of their ark. They don't sleep for long and probably don't want to disturb Mum when they go off on their Big Adventures.
This was the soothing scene which greeted me when I went out this afternoon to get on with the daily chores. What could be more relaxing?

I'd been out at a Twitter workshop all morning and I found myself half thinking about that and half thinking about the job in hand. Gunner and Waifa were wandering around the yard and Pilot was asleep, as is his habit, in the corner of Rocco's stable.

All was peaceful. Then I heard the familiar 'trottle-trottle-trottle' outside and went to investigate. Sure enough, fed up with R&R, the little Deserts were off on a mission. Finding their path blocked in one direction, they stopped, examined the situation then wheeled about and 'trottle-trottle-trottled' off the opposite way. I went back to my deeds leaving Gunner in charge. Every now and then I noted the sound of many rushing feet but that's business-as-usual at the moment.

A Little while later, I was checking on the vegetable garden when, changing watering priorities on the sprinkler, I was surprised by the sight of the Happy Wanderers trottling towards me, closely followed by Rocco - or maybe he was herding them? Perhaps he's been taking a lesson out of Gunner's Book? Whatever; if you look closely there are only 7 little piglets instead of eight. And there's no sign of Gunner.

Between us, Rocco and I managed to persuade the piglets that they were heading towards a Very Unfriendly Place (we all know how ferociously vegetables can defend themselves against marauders) and the 7 turned and ran in the opposite direction. Still no sign of Gunner though. I came across him a little later by the pile of reclaimed materials up by Mangal's pen. He might have thought he could fool me that he was looking for the missing piglet but, since he flushed one out of the same pile the other day, I suspect he was really on to the scent of a rabbit.

However, I took him at his word and sent him off to collect up the rest of the herd and return them to Mum. By the time he got round to it, they were already making their way home for tea.
"Just another boring day at the office" as Linda is sometimes heard to say...........!

Drought - it's official

2011-06-10T21:31:00.000+01:00

On the News this morning it was announced that Lincolnshire was one of four regions in the country which had been officially declared 'drought' afflicted.

It also happened to be a 'Pork Provisions' day again at one of our local Farmer's Markets. The morning dawned warm and sunny - far too nice for displaying meat products (it's always a headache to keep everything cool and in the shade).But by mid-morning that all changed. Blue skies were obscured by grey clouds. Then by raindrops. Then by a heavy shower. Then by thunder, followed by lightening, followed by a deafening downpour.

Initially, some of we stallholders, sheltered by the canopies over our stalls, felt sorry for the shoppers in their summer clothes, bare legs and sandals. But the storm did not stop. The rain beat down ever heavier and within very few minutes all the day-trippers, passers-by and the few serious shoppers had all 'melted' away.

Standing by your market stall in the pouring rain with not a customer in sight is a wearisome business.

"Sweet cherries, best strawberries now only £1.50!" called out the vegetable seller, repeatedly, to nobody there.......

That, and the sound of the rain drumming down, lent an eerie atmosphere .... and then "Quack! Quack! Quack" and I turned round to see The Duck waddling here - scooping up a dead chip - and there - scooping up a beakful of water - heedless of the few remaining scurrying feet.

"Quite!" I thought. "Absolutely typical - declare official drought and suddenly the weather's only fit for a duck!"

Death comes in the night....

2011-06-06T21:11:00.005+01:00

There are no bad animals in the world - but there are some with bad habits. The fox is one of those.

This was the scene that greeted me this morning when I went to open up one of the chicken houses: unfortunately it was where the Lincolnshire Buffs lived.

The two hens were incubating their eggs and Clarence the Cockerel was standing guard.

I somehow forgot to close their pop-hole last night.

All three were gone this morning. Knowing it was my fault did not make me less angry at Mrs Fox even though she clearly has a family to feed since she took all three away.

By a stroke of luck, one Buff hen remains.

For the past few weeks she has been helping a duck incubate her eggs in the house next door and now most of them are hatched, has taken over as their mum.

It must have been horrid for them in the night: it was certainly very quiet this morning.

Note to self to leave no further temptations for the night raiders........

The next generation

2011-06-03T21:03:00.009+01:00

The Mangalitza Fan Club swung into action again last week. Two more students from the local university agricultural college mailed to ask if they could offer themselves up for some practical work experience. The Big Boss, ever keen to reward initiative, welcomed them enthusiastically and set them off to spend the afternoon working alongside Linda.

"We'll give them some real hands-on experience with the pigs too" he said and informed the two young helpers that they would be instrumental in separating Delila's Clarissas from Clarences in the stalls and then putting them all out in their respective outdoor pens.

We had a plan. I'd marked the three girls at breakfast so the Young Helpers would pick each of them up in turn, put them over the hurdle and they could trot up into the trailer where food was waiting. We'd then repeat the exercise with the boys, except they would just need to be herded up into the trailer. Easey peasey and we all swung into action: Alicia and Alex proved to be wizard with the weaners - gilts scooped up in no time at all and popped over the hurdle to run up to the trailer. And just to prove you can never take your eye off the ball where animals are concerned, one got away and ran off into the distance.

"Oh No!" said Linda "I knew we should have carried them in and put them over the gate in the trailer!". No sooner said than done: gilts over the barrier and hogs herded in - simple. Off to the woods and unload boys: they were keen to be out in the open air so no problem there either. Except as they were running around I noticed one of the boys had transmogrified and was now a gilt! Oops.

So after putting the two gilts in the trailer up into their pen next to Ginger and her little ones, it was back to the woods to round up the 'wrong pig' and put her in the right place. Then we just had to find the runaway gilt. Who was here one moment and there the next and then gone again.

"Gunner'll fetch her" said The Boss. He was right - as usual. I let The Bestest Pig Dog in All the World out of the house and in no time he'd located said pig and herded her up to the pen where the others were. With A & A holding hurdles at strategic points and Gunner and I acting as 'stops', Linda did her speedy rugby tackle thing and before the little gilt knew it she was up in the air and over the fence and reunited with her sisters! Just like that! Well - Linda needed an extra pair of hands to help complete the swing over the top but you get the picture!

As an exercise in showing students how to manage livestock it may not have been exemplary but it was certainly a lot of fun!!!

Talking of fun. Ginger's little Deserts are now at that age where the world is their playpen. And they are exploring every facet of it. Ginger's pleased to have her me-time again and Mangal is only too happy to pass on the Wisdom of the Great Hogs and tales of " Giants (humans) and smoke breathing dragons (any car or tractor)" - to borrow the words of The Big Boss in the latest edition of Pigtails (see www.rectoryreserve.co.uk).

And in this manner The Hog History passes from one generation to the next.

That cat again!

2011-06-02T17:38:00.004+01:00

When my sisters and I were growing up our parents always had German Shepherd dogs. Often I would bring unwanted or stray cats and kittens home from school. On one occasion, in the hope of keeping them safe, I even hid some in a stable (which belonged to an Arabian Horse stud) behind our garden wall.

To no avail. Every time, no matter which dog it was, the cats (with one exception - and I think she was 'between dogs') did not survive for long. Either they were scared to death, literally - or they ran away.

Since then, I have often heard and read of close dog/cat relationships but I never believed I would witness one.

Just goes to show ....... anything can happen if you wait long enough...........................

Butter wouldn't melt....

2011-05-30T20:31:00.003+01:00

Not a single rabbit or mouse has crossed our doorstep for the past 10 days. In fact, since I wrote about her misdeeds, Waifa has been been quite the model cat.

She and Puddy Cat don't really share the same perspective on The Ideal Feline Existence - you'd never find Puddy Cat snuggling up to or grooming a dog for instance (one of Waifa's favourite past-times!), nor loudly demanding her dinner (Waifa is firmly of the opinion that if you want something you have to shout and shout and shout for it!); and I don't imagine we'll ever find The Cat who Adopted Us wriggling herself into a cosy spot on our bed for the night, as is Puddy Cat's wont.

However, every now and then Waifa makes a Big Effort to be Friends. You can tell from Puddy Cat's demeanour that this much closeness was not her idea! The Incomer, on the other hand, is clearly quite in charge of the situation.

"Moi?" "Bring the wild life in the House?"

"What Next?" I ask - again............

Butter wouldn't melt would it????

JD's Herd

2011-05-23T20:23:00.011+01:00

Andromeda - the most fetching of the infamous Delinquents - having reached her majority, is currently away from home visiting JD who, having been born at Rectory Reserve, now resides some 30 minutes' drive away from here.

Fancying a bit of a diversion from the daily routine, The Big Boss and I decided last week to take a little trip over there to see how things are going.

JD is a handsome chap - as you'd expect of a son of Samson - and we understand he's done his duty by Andromeda so piglets will follow in the fullness of time! I have to say, she doesn't look too enamoured of her new situation but it's probably because she's no longer The Boss, which was a status she'd acquired when she was here! She'll come round in time no doubt.

Andromeda is JD'S No. 3 Mate - No. 1 being Bonnie (from Precious's first litter and sister of Clyde who, in turn is father of Andromeda) and No. 2 - Lotos - (daughter of Ginger and Mangal).

These two between them currently have 17 piglets at foot. The extended 'family' of some 200 pigs comprises an interesting variety.

Saddlebacks are by far the majority but there are also some Middle Whites, some Gloucester Old Spots (and a litter, shown here, that are a cross between these two) plus some Micro Pigs and a little Rescue chap of uncertain parentage by the name of Rodney!

All in all a very different environment from RectoryReserve - no wonder our Little Delinquent is taking time to find her feet. She'll feel much more at home when her own little herd is running around her trotters - and no doubt they'll generate as much 'trouble' there as she and her tribe did here last year!

A Strange sound at the door

2011-05-17T20:13:00.004+01:00

The Boss and I were just finishing dinner on Saturday evening when there was a strange sound at the scullery door - not quite a knock but not a thump either, more a quiet 'Thud'!

We weren't expecting visitors.
"Is that someone at the door?" asked The Boss.

"Probably the cats" I half-jokingly replied. They'd been out for a while and they usually come back home when they get hungry.
"Oh well, in that case I'd best go see" he said, walking off in that direction.

A few moments later I heard "You're quite right; it's the cats. With dinner!"

Thinking he was pulling my leg I went to look and saw this on the door mat.

I imagine the dark spot on its head is where Waifa banged on the door with it!

As if that were not bad enough, yesterday morning after breakfast Gunner told me something was either under or behind the sofa in the kitchen. I heard a bit of a crunch but thought that it came from 'elsewhere'.

Pulling the sofa away from the wall, I peered behind expecting to see a 'lost' dog biscuit.

Instead looking up at me in surprise and indignation - feelings I'm sure I projected straight back - was Waifa ......... halfway through her breakfast, if you please! Yet another baby rabbit.
Strange sounds and stranger goings-on. What next from our used-to-be-a-stray cat?

Best we keep the door shut, I think!

Meet the family!

2011-05-14T14:16:00.006+01:00

It was one of those typical British summer afternoons (except it's not yet summer) - balmy breeze, billowing clouds, swallows swooping in and out of the barns - ideal, in fact, for bringing a new family into the world.
She chose her time well. Mangal - and the rest of the herd for that matter - were snoozing lazily; the yard routine was chugging away reassuringly in the background - ducks here, chickens there, dogs alternately sleeping and following me around; everything just as it should be. Nothing indicated there was anything different.

Till tea time.

When Ginger didn't appear.

Then I remembered.

"Could she be having her piglets?"

I crept closer to her ark; the unmistakeable sounds grew clearer ..... sure enough, that's what she was up to!

After dinner I went to check things out - discovered mum happily suckling a bunch of stripey piglets - her 8th litter ---- and 8 of them. All big and strong and bouncing around within a matter of hours.

Just when we were thinking she was getting on a bit and would start winding down on litter sizes she goes and has her largest ever!

Within 24 hours one or two were peering inquisitively out of the ark (clearly the little red one had asked permission first!); within 48 most of them were happily following mum to and fro!

Can't help thinking it'll not be long before they're trotting off to meet the rest of the extended family!

Newsflash...

2011-05-10T20:25:00.003+01:00

To Ginger and Mangal...... this afternoon...... their 8th little family.... of 8 bouncing, stripey piglets.

Mother, father and babies all well and happy.

Full story to follow......

Would you believe it?

2011-05-10T17:54:00.007+01:00

We have a 'temporary holding pen' which is just that - used temporarily and occasionally when members of the RectoryReserve herd are 'going somewhere' or when newcomers have arrived. It's easily accessible for the trailer and close enough to the house for us to 'keep an eye on' it if necessary.

A little while back, when we had some students here helping out for work experience, the pen was given a good spring cleaning and topped up with a goodly amount of fresh straw.

Most Fridays here are Moving Days and last week was no exception. One of the movements involved bringing a couple of the mature boys up to the holding pen from the field in preparation for their departure yesterday. We were just tidying the trailer up and preparing to give the boys their tea when a duck poked her head up from the straw, looked around, quacked loudly, observed the commotion and promptly waddled off through the fence to join her two paramours who were dozing on the other side.

We all laughed and then carried on with what we were doing.

Later that evening as I was checking the boys and giving them fresh water I noticed something in the straw behind them.

Looking closer I discerned a duck's head.

"Would you believe it? She's made a nest" I said to the boys - as if they'd understand!

When I shut up the chickens later the boys were asleep - one in the straw, one al fresco.

Next morning they were both asleep in the straw. And sitting totally unperturbed just behind them was the duck. And there she stayed for the whole weekend - and has remained since. The pigs didn't disturb her in even the slightest way. The indents from where they had slept were literally just in front of the duck.

"Would you believe it?" said Tony when I told him about it on Monday morning.

Would anyone indeed?

Apart from the boys, the other movement last Friday was weaning the 10 little Clarissas - who turned out on closer inspection to be 3 Clarissas and 7 Clarences! Delila went through the obligatory complaining motions - in particular making a bee-line for Con every time we picked up a piglet and it squealed - taking it out on him presumably because he's only up here once a week ... so it must be his fault mustn't it!

Having short-fed everyone at breakfast time, it was relatively easy to get them all in the same space at tea-time; so we could just pick up the piglets one by one and put them in the trailer, ready for the short trip to the stalls. Apart from Con being attacked by a raging sow (not so fiercely that she forgot all about her food!), it all went very smootly - till the last little chappie decided to duck under the gate and go run-about. Linda performed the kind of lower leg tackle that would probably have seen any Saints player chucked off the pitch! Throwing herself at his back trotter, she grabbed the piglet and made off purposefully to the trailer. I still don't know who was the more surprised. The piglet or us! Anyway, most effective.

All 10 piglets are now in the stalls for a week or so; Delila missed them but compensated with extra greens and foliage; we've missed the sight and sound of 40 little trotters charging up and down and around - -- but found compensations too ....at last daring to start planting up the garden....!!!!

The Hammock works its magic

2011-05-08T20:20:00.006+01:00

It was our Open Day last Sunday - wall to wall sunshine and blistering heat made bearable by the Easterly breeze which, fortunately, the front of the house is well sheltered from.

The Boss had decided Now was The Time to dust down the BBQ and treat our guests to some superbly griddled porky pieces.

Whilst he was sorting that, Linda and I sat around relaxing and chatting - awaiting the visiting throngs.

It seemed the ideal time to hang up the hammock.

Whilst doing so I explained to Linda, who'd not seen it before, that we'd given up hanging it out because every time we did so rain followed within a matter of days. Without fail.

It smelled pretty musty but the wind soon blew that away.

Not too many people turned up. It was a pretty lazy day all in all. A perfect BBQ day really. Puddy Cat got bored and went to sleep. Even better.

The guests marvelled at the pigs, loving the piglets. Who stayed obediently in their pen. Till everyone had gone.

Then they were out and about again!

Smart.

Last night we had rain.

All night.

Not a lot but enough to damp the dust and create a few puddles in the pigs' wallows.

Beware the power of the Hammock!

We'll do our farmer friends (and ourselves!) a favour though and leave it up for the rest of this week.

Roses. In May?

2011-05-03T20:18:00.008+01:00

Our pre-occupation with the weather continues. April, we are told, was the driest for 350 years - ie. since the first records were kept. Easter Saturday was the hottest April day ever (I know. I was the Pork Provisioner at Market that day!).

Here in Lincolnshire, according to the chap who delivers our animal feed, only 0.4mm of rain fell in the month. Added to that, a keen Easterly wind has been blowing for the past couple of weeks - the net result of which is ground baked hard and crops well behind where they should be at this time of year. Were these conditions to prevail for too much longer, a farmer remarked on the local news this evening, corn could be an extremely scarce commodity this year! (Rocketing feed prices - again). This photo taken of a neighbouring field this afternoon bears more resemblance to desert than Lincolnshire's lush acres.....

But there's good news too. The hammock is out in the orchard. It's been shut away for a few years since it has a habit of causing rain to fall within a day or two of it being hung! Then there are the new photovoltaic panels on the roof - installed at the start of this unseasonably sunny spell ---- The Big Boss and I are more than delighted to see endless cloud-free days! And the roses are coming into bloom already - almost a month ahead of their time I'd say. On the down side, I did have to whitewash the greenhouse this afternoon to prevent the tender plantlets shrivelling under too much sunshine! And I have to restrict The Horses' galloping since all the tracks are as hard as the roads; Rocco finds that a nuisance but Ritz, at the grand old age of 28, should be relieved to have a valid excuse to ease off a bit!

And we finally put the New Romantic boys out in their field pen yesterday - and, boy, are they pleased to bask in the sun (after sneaking under the fence to visit Mum and Dad!!!) after weeks of being incarcerated in the stalls! Happy Days.....

and then there were five....

2011-04-26T20:31:00.007+01:00

As soon as their sisters (now known as Debbie Harry and Annie Lennox) were out of the door, the boys settled down to breakfast. And this is what they do - all cram their noses into one bowl!

It's not a matter of being polite - leaving the girls' bowl alone (in case they come back?).

We've experimented: how many bowls are needed for how many pigs? The smaller they are the fewer they need. Used to squabbling for teats from Day One they instinctively feel that wherever anyone else is eating is the place to be. When one bowl's getting empty, one of the chaps will rush off to the other bowl and then everyone will follow. Till it's empty. Then they'll all rush back to the other one again to check it's empty, and then back to the other one again -- and so on and so forth until they are absolutely sure every last crumb has gone!

And then they'll check once more!

As they get older, leaders emerge who get to have a bowl to themselves; beware the pig who tries to get his or her snout in! And the others will scrabble and share the remaining bowl or bowls but the same rushing to and fro, checking and double-checking will continue.

Boars and sows do it too: Samson or Mangal will take first bite from the first bowl or pile to go down, the sow will take the second: then Samson or Mangal will dash to the sow's bowl and she has to leave: and then he'll go back and pinch anything that's left from hers (which was his) and so on. Never a hint of a morsel remains.

Except in Samson's case when it comes to cauliflowers (they being the in veg. at the moment): he's not too fond of them but Precious loves them.

Clever girl: she gets to have as many as she wants and he doesn't really care! They get five between them - and mostly she eats most all of them!

Pastures new

2011-04-24T20:36:00.006+01:00

Hot on the trotters of their two sisters earlier this month, last Tuesday saw the turn of these two New Romantics to leave RectoryReserve for pastures new...... They were very quiet when we picked them up from amongst their mates in the morning and loaded them into the dog crate in the back of the car. They insisted on standing up to start with so got jogged about a bit as we went over the speed/drainage humps on the drive. But within a few miles they sensibly lay down and spent the rest of the journey quietly chuntering and gruntling to each other whilst keeping one eye on what we were doing up front.
It wasn't long before we reached our destination:

"All our friends are dying to see the pigs so we've got a steady stream coming to visit, starting this afternoon!" said their new Custodian. Which was lucky for us because after settling the girls into their new home - lots of grass (they soon got their snouts in and started rootling) and dandelions and a unique designer ark - we were treated to tea and fresh home-made scones complete with creme fraiche and home made blackberry jelly. Delicious. Can't help thinking that maybe these two piggies have landed on their feet.
"Have you thought of names for them yet?" we asked.
"I thought we'd name them after the characters in Orwells' 1984" replied the son of the house.
"Nice idea. What were their names? I don't recall there being any females on that farm" said I.
"Good point... will have to rethink."
"Since their Litter name is New Romantics perhaps you could think along those lines?" said The Boss.
It'll be interesting to hear what they come up with.
Meanwhile, the girls were quite happily trotting around, sampling the vegetation and tentatively exploring their new 'house'. With such a lot of new experiences in a short space of time and in view of the unseasonal heat of the day it probably wasn't too long before they settled down to a good long sleep.
Which they'd have needed if they were going to be the subject of much attention again later in the day.....
Also - Note the football --- the household includes two border collies, one of whom is crazy about fetching balls and the other is bred for agility..... I could just see the dogs and the children between them teaching these two girls a trick or two.
Which would be handy since, when we go to fetch them they will have to trot up the garden path (and a very nice garden it is too...) and round to the front of the house before loading into the trailer...... Could be interesting.....

Basking.....

2011-04-18T19:13:00.009+01:00

This photo was taken at 0550 a.m! Or Tea Time as we know it at Rectory Reserve.... with this view from our bedroom window..... how could a person not wake up and be happy?

We never thought, in the middle of the coldest winter ever, that we'd now be basking in what could turn out to be the warmest and driest spring since records began.

And it's beautiful.

The flowers that were held back by the chill of January benefited from an unusually warm February, accelerated through a calm and sunny March and burst into glorious abundance this month. Daffodils, narcissus, primroses, violets, bluebells, pear and damson blossom and much more - all appeared on show together. Now in the orchard the cherry blossom is out, apple blossom is just starting to show itself; rapeseed in nearby fields is already yellow with flower and the swallows have arrived.

It's as if someone's waved a magic wand and suddenly jolted the world awake after its dark, wintry slumbers.

Delila's not-so-little Clarissa's are thriving on copious quantities of Vitamin D. Daily they amuse us with their antics; meeting and greeting visitors as they come down the drive (causes a little consternation and we do get just a tad weary of hearing "Did you know there are piglets loose on your drive?") and running all over the estate. They spent most of yesterday afternoon trotting around the stable yard, playing with ducks, gawping at chickens (never seen those before) and visiting with Grandma Ginger and Grandad Mangal only returning home to mum when they saw the tea trolley going round...... As a result of which she's kept them firmly 'at home' today allowing them only to go out in the immediate vicinity of the pen! Very firm is our Delila when needs be....

Not getting wet during dog exercise has been a pleasure too. Both Pilot and Gunner are enjoying flushing the wildlife - we are surrounded by an abundance of hare and rabbit; partridge and pheasant are already on the their nests whilst Lapwings "Pee wit" high above us warning against approaching their eggs and the heavens are full of skylarks gliding ever higher, almost deafening us with their glorious song. It makes one feel glad to be alive.

Occasionally we just sit, stare, bask ... before returning to the rest of the day's tasks. Sometimes the Bestest Gundog and I sneak off on our own, drive down to the river on the other side of

town to deliberately get wet - "practising our retrieving from and over water" skills. Thanks to the numerous ducks also splashing around, Gunner has rapidly developed his swimming ability and confidence, able now to go paddle hundreds of yards yet still return on the whistle! He never ceases to amaze: one moment he's madly trying to flush ducks off the water and the next he's happy to turn and retrieve a dummy. Spring is the carefree season for exercising dogs: all too soon the heat, nettles and seeds will make it uncomfortable and dangerous to cavort through the undergrowth. We will not waste these balmy, dry days.

But dry is not altogether good. It was the driest March in England for 50 years with only 0.78 inches of rain and Lincolnshire, with just 0.18 inches, had its driest March ever. The above average hours of sunshine further exacerbated the dryness - a feature which has continued into April. Apart from one damp night we have had no rain at all and we remain basking under high pressure with no foreseeable change in sight. Already the grass has stopped growing. Soon farmers will start to mutter bad tidings.........

But for now, with Easter just around the corner and a Royal Wedding to follow, we're just going to keep on basking----- be it in sunlight or moonlight...... there'll be time enough to worry about the worries.......................

Back Together again

2011-04-06T20:08:00.009+01:00

Weaning Precious on 1st April went smoothly: Usual routine - Precious distracted with food as her litter of 'New Romantics' were lifted out one by one - a bit of posturing, grunting and squealing - then one of the piglets 'escaped' and ran the long way round back to Mum - who looked as much as to say "What you? Thought I'd just got rid of the lot of you" before we caught him up and put him back with his mates in the stalls.

Precious then enjoyed a few days of peace and quiet - thankfully catching up on her beauty sleep. A Sow normally comes into season 4 or so days after weaning. On April 5 it was time to return her to her handsome beau. As ever, she didn't hang about when it came to loading her into the trailer for the very short journey (not even time to get a decent photo).

On occasion in the past we have just let her run up the field to him but we were being helped by a couple of 'training to be vet' students and it would have been just like Precious to have her little joke and run all over the place just to show off - so we thought we'd better play it safe! (Someone say chicken?? Not us!).

Samson was delighted to see Precious again and was all over her like a swarm of flies. She, however, having said a brief "Hello" ran off to inspect the recent modifications. "New fences? and a new House?" she must have thought to herself as she gave each a good look over.

Having satisfied herself that all was up to standard she then settled down to tea. Samson, who's been off his food whilst alone ("Getting back into shape" he probably calls it), stood by companiably and just watched, knowing his time would soon come!

Sure enough, a couple of days later, Linda confirmed that they were getting down to the serious business of becoming reacquainted...........

And Danny looked on...

2011-04-06T16:44:00.007+01:00

"For this you give me extra carrots and corn?" "What are these guys?" "Why are they in my home pen?" Poor Danny the Donkey. He looked on inquisitively, and slightly confused, as the two New Romantic weaners took over what had been his home for the past few months. OK. He now has a lovely green paddock looking out over the sheep fields and some farm buildings and one of the main entrance roads. But, hang on, does that make up for losing The Winter Quarters???? I think he was prepared to suspend judgement. Certainly the little guys were slightly overwhelmed by their new home: after a quick scoot round they settled to rootling close to Danny - I reckon they'd have been more than happy to share his pen with him..... bet it won't be too long before they've made a good fist of rootling under that gate to get next door. Which we mentioned to Porig, their temporary Mum cum keeper - who said, since they'd been born on her birthday, she'd take special care of them.... and fix any troublesome exit points....... Note the 'troublesome'. Maybe the New Romantics will not find themselves too confined.... Anyway, this weekend is Grand Spring Opening at Elsham Hall Country Park (the New Romantics' summer home) so the Curly Coats are going to have lots of visitors to pet and pamper them. And their departure from Rectory Reserve marks the beginning of our own Migratory Season as our young charges go off to various summer quarters to "Wow" their public...............

Look what the cat brought in.......

2011-04-03T14:49:00.003+01:00

Waifa has turned into an excellent mouser - most days either we or the dogs wander round the house (both inside and out) collecting the victims of her exploits.

Last Friday though she really surpassed herself.

In the early afternoon The Big Boss and I were packing and labelling products for market the following day: suddenly the oddest knocking and banging noises started up in the Dining Room. We've had some chaps here for a few days installing solar panels on the roof so my first thought was that one of them was still working away somewhere - although I was certain they'd all finished a couple of hours previously.

It didn't take long to locate the source of the disruption.

As I walked into the Dining Room Waifa erupted from behind the door and flung a baby rabbit down in front of the fire.

"Here's what I brought you for dinner" I think she said .........................

Best not ask "What next"!

Here, there and everywhere

2011-03-23T20:15:00.012Z

The nicest time of all to be a piglet is between the ages of 2 to 3 weeks - all the 'bits' work sufficiently well to get away from Mum for increasingly long spells - - and 7 weeks when it's time to be weaned.

During this period all the Big Adventures and Explorations take place. The piglets also get to

know the other members of the herd and the extent of their 'world' at RectoryReserve. The fearless little creatures can be seen rushing everywhere like The White Rabbit; now here, now there.

Down by the pond one moment and up in one of the stables the next: in the orchard and then

suddenly round the horse's feet.

Sometimes they rush (piglets rarely stroll, they just seem to want to get to the next place as quickly as possible) around a corner, come face to face with one of us, screech to a halt and then,

like a wave retreating from the shore, flip over and rush back the other way!

Sometimes we have a little panic if one of them gets into a 'difficult position' (in the photo above for instance you can just see one in the background in Mangal & Ginger's pen - he couldn't remember how he got in and got in a bit of a tizzy so we had to go in and rescue him --- not a good idea with The Big Boar in Residence).

Mostly though we never cease to be charmed and amazed by their antics. Just yesterday Precious was trying to sleep in the sun and her young horde decided to use her as a climbing frame; over her back and down her snout and round the other way. She never batted an eyelid!

Gunner, on the other hand, clearly thinks his out-of-shooting-season 'job' is to round them up

when they stray too far and then return them to Mum.

They appear endlessly fascinated by him, sniffing and nuzzling enquiringly: he has a wonderful "I think I'll just pretend I'm a statue" demeanour whenever they become enquisitive! And when they get bored and scamper off he's instantly up and after them again!

Suddenly though they all get tired, rush back quickly to their pen (Precious always sniffs them in one by one!), have a drink on mum and then collapse in a heap and go to sleep....... till it's time for the next Big Adventure.

Ten is the number

2011-03-21T21:12:00.005Z

It must have been the effect of the 'SuperMoon' being 30% closer to the earth than normal because on Saturday morning when Delila came out for her breakfast some of her little ones were already playing outside the ark - at not yet three days old......

They soon scampered back in again when they heard me though so I followed and managed to count them before they all piled up on top of each other again.....

Definitely 10 - Delila's favourite number. That makes three tens in a row: the 10 Delinquants this time last year, followed by the 10 Little B's in September and now The 10 Clarissas ("What a Thought" said The Boss when I wrote it up on the Family Tree Board.) That's what we've dubbed the litter for now: we thought to name them after the chefs on the programme - but we don't yet know who they all are! So in the meantime, The Clarissas will remind us of their provenance.....

Clever Delila....

"My! My! My! Delila

2011-03-19T20:18:00.005Z

Our pigs have always been stars. Since Ginger's first litter were born back in November 2007 the paparazzi have beat a path to our arks but Delila truly stole the show last Wednesday evening.
The Big Boss and I had settled down to a relaxing hour or so of TV after dinner but were disrupted by the loud noises come from the woods outside the front of the house:

"What the Hell's going on out there?" I said after a bout of very loud banging.....

Slowly the pieces started to fall into place.

Delila had been a little late out for her tea that afternoon: enough for me to think her 'time' was almost nigh: her food bowl had 'disappeared' and when I looked inside her ark the straw was all piled up on one side..... housework had clearly been done....no sign of the bowl though......Whilst she was eating I collected an armful of sticks and branches and threw them into her pen thinking she could soon be needing them.....

We'd just got on to The Great British Food Revival when it all went quiet outside. The TV crew had been here, back in October or November last year, filming with Clarissa Dickson Wright so we were hopeful of catching sight of our pigs on the programme. And suddenly there we were in the woods talking to Clarissa about our curly coats. "Come and meet Delila" I said to her after we'd spent some moments talking with the Maiden Aunts in the background. Delila was rootling contentedly in her pen next door.

"Oh Look, now there's a magnificent pig!" Exclaimed Clarissa. "My! My! My Delila: look at the size of her!" At the sound of her name Delila - as if on cue - stopped her rootling, lifted her head and looked Clarissa straight in the eye.

At about the same time as that very scene was being enacted on national TV Delila was giving birth to her litter of little squiglets.When Pilot, Gunner and I took our habitual late night stroll up the drive I could just about distinguish the sound of gruntles coming from her ark. I wasn't absolutely sure though. I mean - having piglets on cue with one's appearance on National TV was a little too much of a coincidence wasn't it?

As we got back to the house though there was an unmistakeable "Squeaeeeakk": " That's it" I thought to myself.

"Definitely new piglets" I said to The Boss when I got up to bed - and we both settled down contentedly for the night.

"Bit of a Prima Donna, that sow, don't you think?" he muttered before falling asleep.

Next morning whilst Delila was distracted by her breakfast I peered inside the ark and there they were: 8 or 9 or 10 wriggly pigglies. Difficult to tell exact numbers because they keep wriggling and piling up on each other like worms...................

The Boss promptly sent Clarissa a postcard of one of our sows with her newborns: told her on hearing Clarissa call her name, Delila promptly gave birth ---

"Wanted to be done and dusted before the Paparazzi turned up." I said.

....

The programme airs on www/bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/GreatBritishFoodRevival till next Wednesday : minutes 49-52 are the relevant ones.........................

"Where can we find enough food to feed all these people" (God News Bible : John 6)

2011-03-12T15:39:00.004Z

The parable of the Loaves and the Fishes is familiar to most - how the 5000 were fed with just five loaves and two fish; enough being left over to fill 12 baskets.

A similar tale is told in the Ancient Lore of the Swine except that, being 'of the earth', the story told for generations around wallow and sleeping hollows features loaves and roots.

Which may go a little way to explaining the curious sight of piles of these foodstuffs around RectoryReserve over the past few weeks.

The constant increases in feed prices had been causing the Big Boss's brow to furrow more than normally:

"For everyone to have even a little, it would take more than 200 silver coins" (ib.) he had been heard muttering to Mangal over the fence one evening.

And then he had a flash of brilliance (sometimes also known as Common Sense) --- or maybe Mangal muttered something earthy back. Whichever..... within a matter of days a way of lessening the burden on The Big Purse was established. Henceforth, the Porcine Herd shall dine on the fruits of the earth - sourced from a nearby organic farm. Sometimes Parsnips, sometimes potatoes and, in their season, fresh brassicas will replace up to 50% of their proprietory feed.

Mangal and The Boss know a thing or two for all the herd are most satisfied with this arrangement, roots being just the thing pigs most love rootling for.

Morphic resonance then kicked in: a friendly farmer from the village delivered a large load of sugar beet. How these were relished! And then again: Plum the Keeper rang The Big Boss 'out of the blue' one afternoon:-

"Could you use a few loaves of Bread d'ye think?"

It transpired that one of Gunner's putative wives' owners, who works for a well respected local bakery, was (thanks to a cancelled contract) looking for a 'home' for 600 redundant loaves........

Now, if there is one thing Pigs truly relish it is Bread. Harking back to The Ancient Lore of the Swine...... "Happy the Pig who finds bread before his snout...........". Happy pigs indeed.

The sun has got his hat on.............

2011-03-08T20:20:00.008Z

" Hip Hip Hip Hooray"

The Bestest Gundog in the world is 4 years old today.....

So we took him on A Great Big Birthday Adventure.....

to see the sea, which he's never seen before.

A whole different environment for a working dog
And he loved it straightaway................

Especially when he realised there were seabirds ...

Which he could chase and chase and chase....

all the way out to sea

And he leapt and dived over the waves in sheer glee
And then charged all the way back to tell me

What great fun it all was ... and then went back again for more!

So I took him up on the shore and he realised that was better still.

Not least because there were more seabirds to flush off the tide-ridden sands

He charged hither and thither and to and fro with gay abandon sniffing the flotsam and jetsam in his path..... just too, too many smells and objects to check out!

And then I took him still further up the shore and showed him the dunes -

And off he charged following his nose once more.... till, a few moments later, up flew a woodcock, weaving and diving and darting away from danger.

What joy! Thought the dog....... here too....

I never thought to see the secretive and solitary game bird in this place... it was doubtless just as surprised to be flushed out so far from its customary woodland habitat....

Such a big new world to explore.... I think The Dog would have gladly stayed all day.... but we had deeds to do ... and he was tiring....

Back home and he happily fell asleep in front of the fire to dry off - and dream.

Another time when the sun has got his hat on we'll go back to play again.......

It hasn't stopped raining.....

2011-02-28T16:21:00.004Z

We may have (accidentally!) enjoyed the odd dry day and there's even been the occasional burst of sunshine, but the predominant feature since what seems like forever and certainly since The New Romantics came into this world has been Rain. Some of the smaller pigs are up to their bellies in squaddy (as they call it round here). Linda keeps saying:

"Surely it wasn't this wet last year?"

But it probably was. She and I feel sorry for the youngsters but when we are in danger of getting mopey or depressed about it The Boss reminds us that pigs love dirt! So they must be in heaven just now!

In a short spell between showers or downpours on Saturday Precious allowed her new brood to explore the outside world - but only as far as a metre or so away from the door. They mooched and snuffled for a few minutes and then decided that actually, just like Mum told them, indoors really was best - for now.

And talking of Mums..................... There's been a lot of talk in some quarters over the past year or so about possible 'wives' for The Bestest Gundog. One in particular is a fellow beating companion who, having been deemed a little small and light last year, was lined up for the role as soon as she came into season this year. Which she duly did earlier this month and when we got the call there was great excitement amongst certain members of this household..... But it all came to nought because by the time she was brought here she was beyond the due days..... all she did was snap and bark at her paramour.

Then there was Flo. A very nice young thing if a bit light and timid. She was 'in Season' just as we went on Holiday last year so that scuppered things and when her owner rang in great excitement a couple of weeks back saying he needed to bring her here "Now, today" we had high hopes. But she too snapped and barked at the Handsomest Dog in all the World, showing quite clearly that "No, this was not the right time."

Having planned the entire year around the likelihood of having at least one pup about the place I was more than a little disappointed.

"What I'm looking for is a well bred bitch" I said to one of my gamekeeper colleagues when, on bumping into each other at the Feed Merchant on Saturday he enquired as to the Dog's progress on the mating front. A bit forward I know but needs must!

He rang later that evening:

"If you can get the Dog over to Sleaford tomorrow you may be in luck!"

So off we went, me and young Romeo...... and once again we were met with snapping and barking and all the signs of "Too late, young man!". Which is a great shame because she has the most stellar pedigree even though she was not the prettiest of the three.....

"I did say I thought it was too late" said the nice owner "But I could have been wrong and it's always worth a try."

Well, "Yes"--- and "No".

All the bitches will come into season again, with luck, in August. And the owners all say they want to return....... At least now I am well clued up on exactly which are the right days so we'll keep our fingers crossed that (a) the owners notice the moment their bitches come into season and (b) that the three young ladies, jointly or severally, haven't put the Bestest Gundog off women for life!!!!!

"You gave the chap the wrong specification" said the boss. "What you should have said you needed was a well bred tart who'd been about a bit."

As ever, he put his finger on it.................

Little 'uns and Big 'uns

2011-02-20T14:29:00.001Z

Turns out there are 9 little Romantics! Clever Precious!

Here they are on Thursday morning snuggling up at the back of the Ark whilst Mum attended to her breakfast. She's being very protective: I managed to take a couple of photos but then she was back, sticking her snout in noisily and counting that none were missing.
So far they have been kept indoors which is just as well in view of the rain and mud outside..... but I bet it won't be many more days before they're out and about visiting with their aunts next door.

On the subject of Aunts, as planned we moved Delila and Samson up to the Woods on Friday. As ever, it was necessary beforehand to do a bit of preparation. Over the past couple of years one of the arcs has gradually been sinking into, and filling up with, mud. In order to dig it out The Boss arranged with a local farming colleague to come and help. Digging out the ark manually would have taken hours but with the help of the farmer's Manitu vehicle it was possible to winch it up in the air, dig the ground level again and then replace the ark - but with its door facing away from the flow of the mud - all within the space of an hour or so. A few snowdrops got squashed in the process but that was a small price to pay for so much labour saved!

And then in the afternoon it was 'all hands to the pump' to move Samson and Delila. Actually we would have moved Samson without Delila but she insisted in loading up first; as soon as we opened the gate to their paddock she trotted very determinedly up the ramp into the trailer before anyone could blink. Samson would probably have followed her but, because of the extremely slippery ground conditions, The Boss was not at all keen on transporting the two of them at the same time. So it was a good job that she was quick and Samson was slow.......

We left her checking out the new accommodation and went back for Samson..... and he was not going to do anything in haste. Very sensibly. He wandered over to the trailer ramp and had a good sniff and then backed off and chewed a bit of grass, then moved forward again and snuffled up some food that was on the ramp - then backed off and returned to the safety of his pen to consider matters in peace. Eventually he approached the trailer again and repeatedly went towards and away from the ramp.... checking out that everything was safe I suspect and, no doubt, enjoying the attention and all the tit-bits that were being used to entice him to do as we wanted. The four 'Good Men and True' and we two females waited patiently chatting amongst ourselves; no sense getting agitated or trying to hurry a 3-400kg chap with fierce tusks - he'd only get upset.... and then we would be in trouble!

Finally, having examined everything to his satisfaction and assured himself that there were no hidden dangers he inched very slowly up the ramp, into the trailer and stuck his snout in the feed bowl.

He was so engrossed in chomping that, on arriving at the Woods, he was oblivious to the ramp going down and the doors opening.

If Tony hadn't said:

"Oi mate, the door's open!"

and banged heavily on the side of the trailer Samson would likely as not quite happily have stayed inside. As it was, he looked round at the noise, saw daylight behind him, turned and trotted happily up to where Delila was still examining their new premises. It may not be the biggest pen but it does have the advantage of two houses...... the Big 'uns will be able to have one each..... luxury indeed.

PS to the previous

2011-02-15T13:30:00.000Z

She's not called Precious for nothing. Yesterday afternoon she duly delivered 6.... or 7 ...or 8... or possibly even 9 little New Romantics...........................more news and photos to follow.............

Looking forward

2011-02-13T21:35:00.000Z

Been having a little difficulty connecting with the web lately: called in the Man who fixes computers and he 'fixed' things and within a matter of hours the connection was broken again. Very frustrating..... But he was coming back to fix something else so he re-fixed my internet connection ----- and when I wanted to use it it was unfixed again. And then we discovered what was happening..... Puddy Cat likes to sit on the wi-fi router box - it's nice and warm - especially if the sun is shining through the window, and if she wiggles she manages to loosen the connection at the back. Now we know the cause the solution is simple: disconnect, reconnect and away you go............ Retraining Puddy Cat is a different matter and will doubtless take forever.

Can't blame Cat for seeking out warm places: having just come in from a very wet and blustery 'outdoors' I found myself thinking we are back in the depths of an extremely hostile winter! Yet only a few days ago I was out and about recording signs of spring - at last...... and today when exercising the horses I smiled to see the first primrose and the first crocus on the grass alongside the drive.....

Samson and Delila have been doing a bit of spring-cleaning too or maybe she was complaining that it was a little stuffy indoors and they'd need air-conditioning in time for summer..... he, being so very obliging, got on to it right away. Only his D-i-Y skills are not yet finely honed and he's made it just a little too draughty for the not-quite-spring we're having. So come Friday he, and maybe she, will have to be moved to the woods for a while so that necessary repairs can be carried out. They've been modifying their fence alongside the bridleway too so that will be seen to at the same time...... don't really want a fully grown Boar, however woolly and handsome, taking it upon himself to go walk-about on the public highway.....

Despite the wet and blustery stuff it is still warm enough to provoke other signs of spring. The hens are coming back into lay one by one (The Boss was reminding me only this morning as we ate our boiled egg breakfast that they each 'cost' about the same as caviar!) and the ducks have started building their nests. Gunner's future wives' owners have also been in touch and it looks like there could be interesting developments later this week!!!

Which brings me back to pigs; Precious is imminently due to Deliver - judging from her demeanour and deportment this evening it could even be tomorrow............................ a litter of New Romantics maybe? That's one of the most rewarding parts of Life at RectoryReserve -Even on the wettest and windiest of nights there is still a lot to look forward to................

All done and dusted....

2011-02-04T15:29:00.000Z

That's it then! All over until September. The Cocking Days were fascinating. And there are still a few cock birds left to contest their territory over the coming months .......

Contrary to all the macho banter there's a very strict ettiquette which governs these events. I was fortunate to be welcomed on the cocking days of two of our regular shoots. At the beginning of each day those present were split into two teams: alternately each would 'stand' (in the manner of the Guns on a normal shooting day) or 'walk' (with their guns and dogs but 'beating' for the standing guns). Rules were read out: 'standing guns' could shoot anything in the air except hen pheasants and mating pairs of partridge. They could also shoot safe ground game - rabbits mostly. 'Walking guns' could only shoot game in the air if it was flying 'back' or squirrels either in their drays (nests) or if seen running up trees. If in any doubt, safety was to be the deciding factor. Sweepstakes were organised: in one case simply how many head were shot by each team at the end of the day and which team would win and in the other how many legs would be accounted for and how many shots fired by the end of the day!

There were many strange sights throughout these days. Not least on the first of the two shoots, the Keeper had arranged for his daughter and I to have a gun each and to share a stand; with a licensed 'gun' accompanying us at all times to ensure safety! In addition, we were 'standing' guns - the safer position - all day. And that was fine: except it was a particularly freezing cold day - 'yes' the sky was blue and 'yes' the ground was dry but golly was it cold!! At the end of the first drive my hands were so numb I was unable to resist the temptation to place them in the insulated and warm pockets of our male companion - which gave rise to much bawdy humour from the rest of the male contingent.... By the end of the second drive I was full of admiration for all the guns who had shot so well during the previous blisteringly cold weeks. By the end of the morning I was totally numb. Beating is by far the saner end of the sport! It is also by far the 'easier' position. Many times throughout the Seasons I have found myself criticising Guns for missing their quarry: never again.... it is no mean feat to get ahead of the bird and to have the timing and skill to hit it straight and clean!

From the perspective of a permanent Standing Gun, despite the cold it was a peaceful and crisp day: few birds came our way: far fewer were shot at (we dubbed ourselves 'the Conservation Team'), two were vaguely 'hit' and only one was killed - and that by my partner, the Keeper's daughter. The total for the day - which ended reasonably early at 1615 pm - was but 94 so, considering there were 10 guns on each team, we had not missed many! On the other hand, we had a thoroughly enjoyable day, learned a good deal about etiquette and safety and gained much confidence in use of a shotgun. Better careful than careless. Worth more than gold.

That was on the Saturday and with the gun to worry about I left the Dog at home for a day's rest. However the following Tuesday - the 1st February (the very last day of the Season)- both dog and I turned up to beat at the Cocking Day for the other shoot. After entering the sweepstake - feet and shots - and reading of the rules we set off. It had rained continuously since dawn but soon after we set off the rain stopped and a wintry sun poked through the clouds. It augured well for the day. Before long the Dog was gasping for water (which luckily he found in a nearby stream) and all humans were shedding at least one layer.

After a reviving Slogasm (Sloe gin and Champagne) at mid-morning we walked all day. In contrast to the previous Cocking Day, the dog and I beat all day. He more than justified his place in the beating line. I swear I walked at least 15 miles so goodness knows how many miles Gunner covered. Suffice to say that by the time the sun went down and the day was ended (1630hrs when we finished the final drive - and this was the more restrained of the two shoots???!!!) - we were both well and truly worn out. We did however win the sweep for the 'number of shots fired' which was a fitting end to an exhausting day and a fulfilling Season.....

We have spent all this week recovering--- overcoming adrenalin shock and withdrawal symptoms.............

"So what are your plans for the months between now and next Season?" asked Linda, later in the week, over a relaxing glass of wine.

Well; she has a point. The Bestest Gundog in all the World has worked 33 days this season compared with 39 last season and 26 in his first year. He has been a reliable and steadfast companion and far better behaved than any of the other working dogs we have encountered. BUT he has developed a few wayward tendencies and the occasional 'deafness' - solely due to the confidence and knowledge developed over the seasons. He loves his job and is never untrustworthy or dishonest. But there is room for improvement; scope for sharpening up.

So - a couple of weeks of rest and recuperation - gentle walks and heel work - and then it'll be a case of working out how to correct the faults and hone the skills........................ no resting on laurels even for THE BESTEST gundog.....

It's almost over....

2011-01-19T19:40:00.000Z

Only another 10 days to go before it's over ...... and now the tone of the assembled company has changed. No more the wondering whether days will be long or short, good or bad (depending on size of bag and quality of Guns), or the going heavy (squaddy as they say around here) or cold: instead there's an air of excitement about and the banter on one of our 'shoots' has taken on a somewhat macho tone....... "There'll be no prisoners taken...."; "High or low, we'll get 'em....."; "We'll not stop till the last light's left the sky...." Almost-sane men are displaying signs of edginess and anticipation that borders on the fanatical! Even on the more 'restrained' shoots there's talk of who got what last year and whether they'll do better this......

"What are they talking about?" Cocking Day! That's what. The traditional end to the shooting season: The Very Last Day. A reward for the Landowners but more so for the Keeper and his friends' - the special ones who've eased his path through The Season - and the faithful beaters with a good eye, a steady hand and skill with a shotgun - a day when the Keeper can choose his Covers and shoot as many cock birds as will fly up in his path. It's a (usually long) day for the fit, fearless and hardy. But it's not only about killing. The cock birds need to be culled ('ware the Gun who shoots a hen bird on Cocking Day) in order to make way for the hardiest who will go on to breed, passing on strong genes to the next generation and ensuring that natural forage and corn are not wasted on the weak and infirm (particularly now with the latter selling at £200+ per tonne!). There'll be pigeons, jays, magpies, crows and rabbits shot too, but the focus will be on the cock-birds. But more of that anon....

Until then the BGiatW continues to work hard. We've had one or two faux pas - when the adrenalin pumps so hard it deafens him and drives all reason and training from his head - but they've been few and far between and, I suppose, just go to prove that he's a "normal" spaniel. On our last Drive yesterday whilst hunting along an ancient hawthorn hedgerow there suddenly came the most agonising screaming; I rushed the 10 yards or so to where it was coming from and found the Dog trying with all his might to pull what at first appeared to be a large hare from the depths of the brambles and thorn; the creature continued to scream harshly and, on closer inspection, I realised it was a Muncjac deer so told Gunner to 'leave' which, with some relief, he happily did. And we continued on our way.

"What was that noise?" "Was that a dog in a snare?" "What was all that about?" all the guns were asking among themselves at the end of the drive.

"My dog trapped a Muncjac" I told them nonchalently "and wouldn't let go". "No wonder he was making such a noise, is he alright?" Several of them said.

"It was the deer making the noise" I replied "not the Dog!" Well -some of them were pretty impressed with his courage and one or two of them went on to recite tales of dogs they'd known who'd been torn apart by Muncjac deer.

"My old dog got the wrong side of one of them and ended up having to have 26 stitches in her neck." said one of my colleagues. Apparently the males defend themselves with their tusks rather in the manner of Boars!

Plum, the Keeper, meanwhile - disappointed that we'd not caught it -exclaimed: " Cor gel you should've thrown yersen in there after it; I'd 've shared it with ye fer dinner!". "What? Head first into all those brambles and thorns?" I replied.

"We'd 've all helped wipe the blood off your face." he replied

Didn't I say end-of-term fever was setting in......?

The new Best Friend

2011-01-19T18:50:00.000Z

Nearly two months on and Waifa's still here.... Pilot continues to be totally bemused and we continue to be completely amused. Any time before she arrived it would have been inconceivable that Pilot would put up with such antics from any other creature. Yet here he is allowing her to do almost anything (stealing his dinner is a definite No-no) and seeming to quite enjoy it. It's all very much at her instigation but that seems to be ok with him.

When she tries to cuddle up to Gunner, as she did just a few minutes ago, he gently moves away. Whether because he knows she's Pilot's Best Friend (and therefore wary of being told off by him) or because he just feels uncomfortable I can't tell. Be that as it may he has no worries about her coming out every morning, as she does, to help with the breakfast round. She gaily trots along behind me, or Gunner, depending on which of us is doing the more interesting thing and when all is done happily returns home to breakfast with us. The other day when I came up to the stables after feeding the pigs in the Church Field she and Gunner, having given up trotting around and sniffing together, were sitting beside each other by the mounting block, patiently waiting for me!

Not only does she know her way around outside but she's also sussed out where to go and what to do indoors. The litter tray was obviously something she expected to find, Pilot's favourite chairs are clearly hers if he's not in them and the spare bedrooms are available according to which one Puddy Cat has already sequestered (usually a matter of where the sun's shining in)! It took her a little while to join 'the family' in the Snug in the evening but for the past few she has overcome that little shyness and as I write has just sprung up on my lap and is playing with my fingers...... making it just a little difficult to type!!! She has a particular fondness for chewing fingers.....!....................! Now I've managed to persuade her to lie quietly beside me. Actually, quiet she is not - she purrs very loudly and 'speaks' even louder. Her purr announces her presence or her pleasure and her voice makes it quite clear what she wants. She really is a strong character. Soon she will have us all perfectly trained.......

Meanwhile, she's undergone a bit of a transformation since her arrival. She is no longer Wafer-thin and dull-coated; we've attacked the worms and the fleas and, last week, since she'd chosen to stay, took her along to our vet to be spayed.

"She was pregnant, you know" said he when he rang to report on the op. "Only 3 weeks or so but she'll probably be a little weaker than otherwise when she comes round". Well, I didn't know (but we worked out it must have been when she, heavily in season - which was what made me ring to arrange the op. in the first place - disappeared for 36 hours and we thought "That's it, shame but she's gone") and she clearly didn't care. Having been told by the veterinary nurse not to let her rush around or go outside or eat too much for 24 hours, all Waifa was interested in was jumping up to where her food was and demanding (a)more and (b) to be let out. She was not in the least amused at the restrictions placed on her. We gave her a little more food (well, we couldn't have her thinking that firstly we'd made her have a nasty thing done to her and then were not going to give her enough food - she might run away......) but prevented her from going out for 60 hours and there's been no holding her since!

"I don't think you need to worry" said Linda, an expert in matters Cat "She knows she's landed on her feet"!

I've a feeling she could be right and Pilot's Best Friend will be around for quite a while.......................................

Life goes on......

2011-01-12T12:14:00.001Z

A pretty picture to start with: the sunset as Gunner and I were driving home from an excellent day's bush-beating last Saturday: quite appropriate too in the light of my last blog.....

Apart from that the theme is rain.... and mud. The snow and ice were tough going but at least all the outdoor piggies remained clean and dry throughout.

Now it's a totally different story. The picture says it all..... Personally I'd have the snow back any day!

Meanwhile, life continues. The Boss had summoned up reinforcements on Friday afternoon - it being Moving Day. There was Ginger to be weaned from her November litter and 6 Delinquent Boys to be moved from the field to the woodland pen in advance of 3 of them leaving for the Great Boar in the Sky on Monday. And it poured with rain all day! Everything went according to plan - almost. Linda got completely stuck in the mud whilst picking up a piglet and Tony had to heave her out - round the waist from behind! Which, as he gleefully remarked, could have given rise to a bit of misunderstanding had somebody been walking down the bridleway (which runs alongside the pen) at the time!!! "She's a little behind!" will now be the refrain anytime anyone asks about Linda's whereabouts.....

In fact, come to think of it, Tony's main role on Friday was getting people out of the mud 'cos he also had to tow The Boss's car and trailer out when they got stuck in the field en route to the Delinquents....... no 'rude' remarks there though! Except about Mercedes design...... Gunner and I arrived home from our day's work just as everything was completed and the chaps were on their way indoors to get warm and dry. Timing or what?

The 7 Indoor Games - as we called Ginger's litter on account of the fact that for the first few weeks of their lives it was so cold that they had to amuse themselves in their ark as Mum wouldn't let them out in the cold - are now happily esconced in the Old Stalls, relieved not to have The Big Snout tossing them out of the way every time they approach the feed bowls...... Within 24 hours they were transformed from mudballs into cute and cuddly (almost) balls of wool! They're also fairly quiet still. Give them a few more days though and they'll be just as noisy as the 10 Little B's in the barn who, I think, could mount a Decibel Challenge against the low flying Eurofighters which are a common feature of our skies.......

RIP Maxims 5/84 - 7/1/11

2011-01-09T10:51:00.001Z

We sadly said "Good Bye" to Max on Friday night. At nearly 27 years of age, he finally succumbed to the effects of the arthiritis which has troubled him recently.

He was a sprightly teenager when, with his half-brother Mr Ritz, he joined our 'family' just over 11 years ago. The German Warmbloods had been carriage driving all their lives and had competed at major events in the UK and France.

When he developed his passion for carriage driving (one of the reasons for our move to Lincolnshire) the Boss purchased them as "School Masters". And they certainly fulfilled their part of the bargain! Between the pair of them they taught us all we needed to know, patiently putting up with all our whimsical mistakes and gently nudging us in the right direction, correctly interpreting (sometimes re-interpreting) our instructions so they ended up where The Boss wanted them to go in numerous marathon driving events and giving us a lot of fun throughout many years. Max was always the sensible, reliable one of the pair: not without spirit, he'd toss his head and paw the ground when he got impatient or excited but it would never occur to him to nip or barge his human companions (unlike Ritz!).

His favourite past-time was to stand at his window and gaze out across the fields or up at the night sky - just what he saw we'll never know. Even on the most freezing of cold nights, his was always the last head to be staring out and which had to be pushed gently back in so the window could be shut against the frost, rain and snow.

Whilst he was Ritz's closest companion throughout their lives, he was Rocco's Best Friend and the Leader of their herd.

Thank you Max for what you taught us all and for the joy you gave. You will be much missed.