The Folks from over the hill

The much travelled Bubbles, Duchess, Curly and Philip returned home yesterday from their holiday home at the farm over the hill. For some reason we thought they might be awkward to load into the trailer to bring home. So we bribed an extra pair of stockhands with promises of a sausage and pork pie lunch. Needless to say, the not so little chaps (pigs not stockhands!) decided to be all sweetness and light and trotted out of the crewyard and into the trailer in a matter of minutes.......

"Here's the limo guys" Duchess probably said as she led them on "Wonder where we're off to next?"

(Good job she's blissfully unaware of the aborted trip to visit the Glamourous Gavin: she'd be so disappointed)
Their next journey takes place a week on Monday when they will be off to visit the Great Porker in the Sky . Who's likely to take one look at them and say:-

"Galloping trotters, how did you get to be so very big in so little time?" because they are truly pigs of 'traditional' proportions. Clearly the farmer over the hill has been more than generous in her husbandry!!!

Unimpressed by their indoor accommodation they spent a very entertaining but fruitless half hour or so trying to nose up the hurdle and get back outside...... However, even the combined muscle of their four snouts was not enough to achieve that end and finally they gave up and lay down....... to dream up another plan....

Meanwhile, we continue to watch the rotundity of Precious's undercarriage with excited anticipation.... we really thought The Big Day had arrived last Thursday but it was a false alarm (on our part, not hers). As ever, we keep saying "any day now" so if matters progress as normal it will be another couple of weeks and then A Big Surprise......... Sensible lady is doubtless just waiting for the weather to improve and the ground to dry up a bit before ejecting her firstborn(s) .. who can blame her?

Gone back home....

"Oh! She looks so much better" said Carrie when she arrived to collect Jemima again on Saturday.

"Her feathers are lovely and white again and she looks so much more cheerful.... the holiday has clearly done her good".

As if to prove how contented she was, Jemima didn't exactly rush to be picked up but it was only to make a point because she didn't struggle either! I assured Carrie that there was nothing visibly wrong with Jemima: she'd been getting on very well with the other ducks and had, if anything, been quieter than on her previous visits...... Nor had I noticed that she spent much time in the pond - so clearly no problem there. "Yes" said her most concerned owner "We thought we might try and find another duck to keep her company". "Jolly good idea" I agreed. After all, there are very few creatures who prefer to live on their own.

"Anyway" said I "she's welcome here any time, she's really no trouble at all."

"Well, now you mention it we thought we might go away for a few days at Easter"

"Great" said I "We'll look forward to seeing her (or them?) again then........"

And off they went, leaving behind a jar of very delicious home-made marmalade...... As I said, No Trouble.......

Half term and hen houses

"Hello" said the voice on the ansafone "Can you look after Jemima for a couple of days? It's half term and we have to go North"

Well, "Of course" we said "She's more than welcome anytime"

So she duly turned up on Tuesday morning with Carrie and young Jack in tow.... "She's been moulting terribly" said Carrie "and her pond's been frozen for weeks and the garden's been frozen and she hasn't laid an egg for ages".

"And she looks so thin" Carrie continued...

Well, I was a little concerned about what we'd see...but actually when Jemima turned up she looked like a normal healthy young duck. Clearly she wasn't concerned about the lack of swimming facilities at home 'cos she didn't make a dive for the pond. In fact, for the first few hours she ignored the pond in favour of hunting for worms and bugs in the poultry pen. She was a bit bolshy too with the rest of the flock, pushing them around with her not inconsiderable weight.... and generally letting them know she was back in the fold. But 24 hrs later life had settled down and everything was back to normal and she was there with the rest of the ducks being sociable and pecking about and sleeping with them. She is nowhere as noisy as she has been on her previous visits. Perhaps she just misses company at home, though she's had the odd pheasant to keep her company...... She was one of the first into the Poultry Palace in the evening too, settling down into a cosy corner before the rest of the ducks trundled in for the night.....

The call ducks meanwhile have been pairing up for spring.... we have six males and ten females and that seems to be working out ok: all the drakes are proudly chaperoning their chosen females and defending them against anyone who gets too close. They've started laying eggs in 'secret' places: if they are not secret enough the chickens destroy them so today I've moved some bales of hay into the poulty palace and tomorrow I'll add some 'roofs' so that the ducks can have little houses which the chickens cannot get into. That way hopefully the ducks will safely lay their eggs without the chickens pecking all of them to bits.

Elsewhere in the poultry world we bought a new hen house when we went to fetch Precious's new shelter. It's very smart and cosy enough for up to 10 birds. We've put it in the orchard where there is lots of grass and moved a few special hens into it. Conchita was the first: she'd not been happy with her previous flock - perhaps she was missing Merlin - and had been pecking under her wing. At first, seeing blood, I thought she'd been attacked by one of the other hens or even the cockerel, but she continued to show the same symptoms for a couple of days when isolated so it may have been more of a stress thing.... We gave her two weeks in the barn alone and she calmed down. So we gave her first call on the new house. Then we moved the two Buff Orpingtons - Honey and Syrup - who'd been a little shy in the big flock. Then the next evening we moved a young cockerel. He'd actually been destined for the pot but when moved in to the 'going to the pot' pen with the other 6 cockerels he ended up being beat up by the others. How did we notice this? Well, he kept burying his head under the hen house and any other 'building' and screaming loudly. I felt sorry for him and rescued him, thinking he must be a sensitive soul and deserving of a second chance. Then we moved a young Light Sussex hen and finally we moved Brindl Bhaji, the Brahmin hen who's been getting set upon by the young cockerels to the point where a large number of her back feathers have already fallen out. With the exception of the cockerel therefore this is now our rare breeds flock. The cockerel doesn't have a name yet - he's starting to take his role seriously so we'll see how he shapes up. Then we'll name him. Hopefully he'll pass his quiet nature on to his offspring. But if he's a wimp he'll have to go..... Time will tell. Here he is pecking around with Honey and Syrup who are clearly his favourites....

Stacey springs a pig surprise!

Sometimes pigs just take the biscuit!

With Ginger farrowing last November and then Polly (over at that Nice Mr Barclays) having her first litter in early December our thoughts had naturally turned to Gavin and Stacey at Woodlands Farm.

By everyone's calculations, they should have introduced their first offspring to the world at large around end November at the very latest. But they didn't. And as the weeks went by and all the other piglets entered the world we all began to worry, slightly. Well, Mr Dennis worried a little more and by the time the organic turkeys were 'despatched' to Christmas dinners, it appeared that assumptions had been made which clearly should not have been made and maybe we had a bit of a problem. After all, Gavin and Stacey were to be the founders of the Woodlands Herd of Curly Coats.

Oh dear.

Heads were scratched; sleep was much interrupted; movement charts were consulted; ideas were aired, rejected, reviewed and finally a workable 'solution' was devised. Duchess would move to Woodlands from her temporary winter quarters at the Farm over the Hill and would be introduced to young Gavin. Stacey would return to RectoryReserve and become the consort of the suave Samson. One way or other, we would discover who was 'at fault'. This plan was due to spring into action next week. Everything was in place; everyone was agreed.

Well.... not quite everyone.

Checking our mail before retiring for the night we were utterly amazed to receive an exceedingly chirpy little missive from young Mr Dennis to the effect that all plans could be thrown out the window: Stacey had farrowed 6 piglets just that very evening!!!!!

Which just goes to show that you can hide just about anything under a woolly coat!

Happy as a pig in muck!

Since Precious returned home a couple of weeks back she has been in the Quarantine stalls. And she has not been happy. Off her food; grumbling and chuntering whenever anyone would listen; mostly just lying around and looking miserable. Looking very pregnant too. Enough to cause the Big Boss to check and then re-check the dates in the diary. Despite any evidence to the contrary, however, there is just no way any piglets can arrive before the end of February - even the vet has been consulted as to whether pigs ever give birth prematurely?
"Most certainly not" said that man - qualifying the statement with "in my experience". Well, there's always a first time.......

But still there were sleepless nights and it became clear that, for our sanity if not hers, Precious had to be moved to her farrowing pen sooner rather than later. Now, Precious is a Big Girl. The existing ark in that pen was, by inspection, going to be too small. It was moved to one of piglet paddocks. A new house was duly sought. Previously we've ordered or commissioned traditional arcs. However, they take much more time to arrive than is available in light of Precious' condition. So eBay was consulted and duly threw up a suitable shelter which was successfully bid on - although we had to travel all the way to New York to collect it!

Ok - New York, Lincolnshire .. which is just 20 minutes away from here. But we forgot to check before leaving home that it would fit our trailer, which it didn't. Bad. But the same man makes excellent hen houses (and we needed one of those too) so we said we'd like the one that he was just finishing off and he agreed to deliver both houses the following day. Good. He wanted to see the Curly Coats anyway, so we were doing him a favour too.

Anyway, the new shelter was put up on Friday and was equipped with lots of lovely fresh straw. And Precious was moved..... in more ways than one.

She fair trotted around the pen, checking out the facilities and having a bit of a to-do with Lily next door - just sorting out who was what and all that ...... and then she started rolling and digging and wallowing and spinning and starting all over again till in no time at all our lovely blonde pig was a gloriously mud-caked lady. She was delighted.

For the first time in a fortnight she had a huge grin on her face and looked like she felt truly at home.

We did a quick calculation and worked out that, in visiting Tang (where she was kept inside), she had not been outdoors since 7 November. So, no wonder she was ecstatic!

She did eventually get round to checking out her new house, but her main priority was to use its doorway for a jolly good scratch! Finally, as if to prove how contented she was with the new situation, she settled down to eat her dinner with something resembling appetite........ When I checked her later that night she was contentedly sleeping under the stars on a pile of not entirely dry hay.

"Who needs a shelter when you've got the whole outdoors to sleep in?" she might have been saying...... and she was still there next morning....... a very happy looking pig in lots of lovely mud.... what could be better?????

No snow ... like English snow...

Why does snow in England always cause such transport problems? How can London come to a halt just over a few inches of the stuff? How can it be that we are running out of salt/grit and many councils are having to cut back on the number of roads they can keep open? The chap we bought our latest pig ark from told us that he'd tried to get some salt so that he could clear his yard but the Builders' Merchant told him the Council had 'recalled' all the available stocks from all Builders' Merchants.

Perhaps it is because our snow is like Micawber, the mystery cat. Now you see him, now you don't.

For instance: we had all this snow at the end of last week and very pretty it was too, for a day or two. Schools closed and kids went sledging and building fabulous snowmen; parents took time off work (which they couldn't get to anyway) and played with the kids.... guilt free cos it wouldn't last for long.

Sure enough it had all gone by Saturday and the weather was warm enough to turn the automatic drinkers on for the piggies which gave us a rest from carrying around lots of buckets of water. Just for one day... it was freezing again on Sunday.

And in the evening it snowed very heavily again and looked like this within a few short hours. Very atmospheric, especially with an almost full moon, but lethally slippery under the snow.......

Thus, Monday morning saw us snowed in, again. Local schools were closed, again. The postman didn't get through, again. We walked to the village for the paper, again. But it was all very pretty, again. So we didn't really mind. I started making plans to do some baking if it continued......

Which it didn't. On Monday evening it rained, hard as it had snowed the previous evening, and washed the snow away. All that rain melting all that snow. On Tuesday many places had a month's rainfall in a day. So there was severe flooding in some areas. And that night we had several degrees of frost. So the ground froze with all that water in it. And the next day it froze too. Riding Rocco across the fields this morning was exciting - if you call slipping and sliding 'exciting'.... we quickly-as-possible returned to the safety of the roads and lanes....

Then this afternoon it started snowing heavily again and within a few hours we have several inches covering the ground once more. All very nice for our customised snow ploughs, who are developing a very handy knack of clearing large patches in their paddock. Perhaps we should investigate the possibility of loaning them out to the local council..... they're pretty effective --- and a lot better than nothing..... Oh, and I got to bake --- Fairy Cakes... with chocolate butter icing.. very tasty .. especially after Curly Coat sausage meat and bantam egg pie..... (Health warning: snow can make you fat)

As I write, however, what was falling as snow has just started falling as rain..... more water to wash away all that snow ... which, of course, if it freezes will turn the roads into ice-rinks once more....... and if it doesn't will just lead to more flooding.

So, perhaps this is why we are never really prepared for snow in England: in the space of just one week we have three relatively incapacitating snow falls quickly followed by rapid washing away of the stuff - just not worth investing in serious snow ploughs; they'd hardly be out and about before they'd be rained off..... far better to just roll over and let the weather dump its stuff on us and plan for a break from the normal humdrum routine.......

And this doesn't happen every year anyhow, so what's to plan for??

A bit big for bantams?

New arrivals always cause great excitement at RectoryReserve.... We have Linda (who loves pigs) to thank for the latest incomers.

"AJ's got some bantams he's keen to get rid of" she said last week

"I wondered if you might be interested?"

"How many?" said I "And what sort are they?"

"Six, I think" said she "They're Leghorn and/or Wyandotte, or something like that, I think" she added (not having long moved to the country she is not yet as familiar as she will become with the various types of chicken....)

Never could say 'No' to any creature, so there was no debate. And yesterday she drove up with a large crate containing a number of brownish and one black bird. Eight of them, it transpired later! (Not too good at counting, that AJ!)

We waited till dusk and then unloaded them into the bantam pen..... "Jolly big, some of these are" I commented as we took them, one by one, from their travel crate. They don't look like the Wyandottes and Leghorns I am familiar with either (will have to check with the Chicken Encyclopaedia which Santa bought me!). They were good as gold though and all but two went straight to bed with the others in their little house. The 'two' just behaved like scatty bantams, flying and squawking frantically for a few moments, before they also settled down and went to bed.

"Did AJ say how old they are?" I asked

"Point of lay" said she adding that "one of them already laid an egg this morning".

This morning Louis was more than proudly escorting them all around their new quarters and sure enough, two of them had already laid an egg. The other hens were equally happy with their new colleagues and contentedly pecked and sat alongside them all day long until Louis ushered them all into their boudoir at dusk. Nice little hens. "Bit bit for bantams, ar'n't they?" commented The Boss, stopping to admire them en route to feed Mangal and his mates.....

Ritz and Max, meanwhile, were happy to go out in the sunshine for a few hours. They wasted no time in rolling several times in the remains of the snow before mooching off in search of tasty titbits along the hedgerows.

Rocco and I left them to it and rode out to see if we could find the Harrier hounds who were hunting locally. Although we soon saw the huntsmen and a few 'followers' we didn't see much of the action ; we could hear them crashing about in the woods and doubtless if we'd hung around long enough we'd have seen more, but it was such a glorious day I decided we'd push on and make the most of it rather than standing around: a decision which clearly met with the horse's approval as he went off at a spanking pace!

And later on, after the rugby The Boss and I settled down to enjoy a delicious Rabbit stew with dumplings. As much of the vegetables came from my beating colleague, Bob (he who covets the Bestest Gundog in all The World), it was also one of the cheapest dinners ever to find its way to our table! Now I really do have to learn to shoot because if there is one thing we have plenty of it is wild rabbits..........

The one that (didn't) got away

Awaking to yet more heavy snow this morning and no prospect of driving to planned appointments, we declared an Unbank Holiday and holed up at home.
Chickens hate snow. So they all stayed indoors. Ducks love snow so they spent all day turning it to slush and then washing themselves in the pond. Our Curly Coats don't care either way - just a day like any other. Horses are not good in snow: it balls up in their hooves and can end up giving them the effect of walking on stilletoes ... potential leg strain if they topple off.... so they usually stay in their cosy stables - unless it's sunny enough to go out and have a quick roll in the white stuff. Which it was definitely not today.

Cats? Stupid to question: they hate snow, except to watch it tumble down from the security of a warm bed or fireside......

But Spaniels? They love snow......

Nothing for it then but to take them out for a bit of a jaunt.

Lancer wasted no time in wriggling furiously and frequently on his back - snow's possibly the best of all possible ways of refreshing an itchy coat!

We caught a glimpse of Pilot in the distance from time to time and more than a few hares and rabbits who seemed as surprised to find us out and about as we were to see them.

And then on our way up to the village to collect the daily Newspaper Gunner expressed undue interest in a large strawbale parked against a hedge beside the bridleway. Knowing his nose, and recognising the set of his back, I knew there was "something interesting" there. I called him off and then asked him to 'fetch' it for me.

Next thing I know he brings me a still warm, though very much dead, rabbit. From the bite on the back of its neck I surmise that he must have surprised a stoat or polecat in the act.

Well, I'd been wondering what to cook for dinner tomorrow evening.

Problem solved.

"Thanks Gunner!"

Not that I've ever 'pouched' a rabbit! But then I've never had a freshly dead one in my hands before. And it would be disrespectful not to use it in the best possible way.

So, home with newspaper in one hand and rabbit in the other..... consult very old and indispensible cook book..... enlist help of The Boss to read the method whilst I carry out the deed and....

....Hey Presto, next thing you know we have a delicious stew for Friday evening....... Well, actually, that photo's a bit misleading.... that's how it looked when it came out of the top Aga oven.... now it needs to cook slowly for several hours in the cooler oven, wild rabbit needing a lot longer than farmed rabbit before it's tender and tasty.

Ah well.. we live and learn. And the things we learn through our animals are frequently the most intriguing.....

There really is no such thing as a dull day in the country!

"All things must pass....." (Matthew 24: 6-8)

The seasons come and go; nothing new there. Except now we know there are five not four: spring, summer, autumn,winter and ...............

'shooting'.

Which came to and end last Saturday (actually, there is still some time for wildfowling and pigeon but the 'season' is most popularly taken to mean that for game birds).

Now we must wean ourselves off the habit which has become almost an addiction in just four short months. Before we pick up the reins of the routines which were gradually eroded from October onwards, perhaps a few moments of reflection on The Bestest Gundog in All the World's first 'season in the field'.

Despite all the aggravation of the tail - not least having to take five weeks off in the middle of the season - the shy apprentice who started his work such a short time ago has grown, in just 24 working days, into a confident, dependable, eager, steady and accurate fully fledged gundog. He has been nothing but brilliant and has won nothing but admiration and respect across all three 'shoots' we've worked with: whether hunting or retrieving, whether in the beater's line or 'picking-up' he has proved to be an absolute gem. He has not once mis-behaved or let the side down. (Which is not to say there are not areas to polish and hone during the long months between now and the next season..... ) All those who have come into contact with him say that for a spaniel in his first year he is quite unusually steady....... And that includes the Gamekeepers .. who are never usually known for their praise of young dogs........ or much else for that matter.

It's also been the greatest fun: regardless of weather (mostly fine, often sunny, almost never very wet) or terrain (very hilly, parts very overgrown , parts extremely heavy underfoot) there has not been a single moment when we would rather have been somewhere else. The dog has accurately retrieved runners, persevered to find 'lost' birds, flushed partridge and pheasant from holes under, and branches in, trees; he's bashed through the thickest briar patches, charged relentlessly up and down hills, bounded boldly through bush, bramble and bog, cast across plough and stubble, burrowed and bounced (often on his back legs) through kale and similar cover crops: all the time listening for, and to, command and whistle. I'd like to meet the person who has had a better companion to share a new country pursuit with.

The refrain: "If it's there, Gunner'll find it" became almost commonplace among our regular beaters gang (some of that motley crew seen sharing their lunch break with our star); frequently a Keeper would ask for Gunner to do a special or difficult job. One of them has even volunteered to teach us to shoot - pigeon and clays - between now and next season....... honour indeed. (Doubtless we'll pay our dues in finest Malt....).

Other plans for the interval? We'll return to Rory-the-trainer for some help with, and tips for, polishing and honing. We also thought perhaps some agility training might be interesting... certainly we'll have to do something ---- even after just a few days without 'work' the dog is looking at me with that: "Well?.... when are we off again? look. What we need is Focus. So - we will focus on developing the dog into a potential Field Trial winner - or maybe even Champion.

Now.... there's a challenge.......

Meanwhile, time to pick up the reins of routine......

Little Chefs and Fortune Cookies!

Last Friday, under the watchful gaze of Ginger and Mangal, the Little Chefs returned to the outside world. The sun turned out to watch too and all the little ones behaved impeccably, pausing only briefly in passing to bid good day to their parents!

After dashing madly about their new pen - much to Rocco's disgust - they settled down to a prolonged exchange of views with Dad which seemed to consist mainly of comparing the size of noses and teeth! Interesting to note that a 2 month old piglet's nose is already quarter the size of a 2 year old boar! No wonder they pack so much power......

Then it was off to collect Precious from Abbey Farm, where she has been honeymooning with Tang these past two months or so. Whilst there we took the opportunity to visit Tang's Fortune Cookies (as we've dubbed his Mischling offspring - who, by the way, are not from Babe but from Kerry - my mistake!). Surprisingly, they've mostly lost their stripes already. The spots and blotches, though, are developing most intriguingly! It even looks as though one of the pink ones is growing a long coat, which could be very interesting! And, on the subject of coats, Polly appears to have trained her little bunch in the very useful art of 'grooming mum's pelt' - a task which they have more than enough time for whilst they are still in the farrowing pen!

Which is just as well since, as you can see from Precious, a curly pig has more than enough coat to keep clean!