July, 2004

Summer brings busy-ness for us... is it that we're just plain disorganised, or what? The locals tell us "it's easier when the animals are out", not from our experience! This month found our cows on walkabout a few times. We have invested in more reels of electric fencing, and some zappy energisers... but the young stock decided it was time for a foray off the farm and, whilst Lorraine was at a farmers market, and Mark was teaching horsemanship in Warwick, they found (or made) a gap in the barbed wire fencing, nipped through a gate on the bridlepath left open the last user, and promptly hustled into a neighbouring field, lush and green and ready to be cut for silage!

Lorraine returned from the farmers market absolutely soaked from the flash flood that had descended during packing up time and along with Jules, went on a sortie to bring the little suckers home. In fact, although rather a long mission (they had wandered, as cows do, from field to field in the opposite direction to "home"), it did go amazingly smoothly and all 19 followed us back to the green fields of Vowley Farm in between downpours.

Our friends Peter and Hannah spent a few days with us and completed the chicken pentagon house. It's truly a work of art which now needs painting and putting out in the field. One morning, Lorraine took some bacon sandwiches out to sustain them in their endeavours and Peter told her how he'd seen 32 coloured horses that morning. She thought he was hallucinating and listened to humour him... but he insisted this was so and showed her the path the animals had trodden. Eventually we found them, yes, 32 coloured horses - a beautiful sight - contentedly grazing our hay - not so great! They turned out to be gypsy horses which seem to have learned from our cows about the wonderful of bridlepath forays. In fact, they offered us a quite splendid experience. Mark put a thin piece of bayler twine around the stallion's neck and led him from the field to the front yard, the others just followed in an orderly fashion. Then we shut the gates and eventually tracked down the owner. He arrived and along with his "family" loaded the horses into some very swanky horse lorries. It is a good reminder occasionally to watch other folk loading and handling horses, on this occasion, it reminded me how far we've come in our relationship with these beautiful and powerful animals. They gypsy approach was all they know I guess. The horses were fearful and scatty, it was amazing that no one (person or horse) got hurt during the process, such a contrast to the calm exodus from the field behind Mark and the stallion just a few hours earlier. There are many folk who are highly critical of these travelling folk and sceptical of their motives. Several comments were made about pushing the horses off our land and back onto the bridlepath rather than deal with the owners, but these folk disprove all of that. The owner handed us £100 for our trouble and was most grateful for our having kept the horses safe for him. Although his handling may not have been to our liking, his integrity with us as fellow human beings was impeccable.

We made a new friend this month, Ross, a 12 year old lad and son of a friend of a friend. He came to help out for a few weeks 'cos he likes animals and works on a farm near where he lives. He has a wonderful way with animals and was a great help during the TB test that happened during his stay. (the animals were all clear again in case you wanted to know). We think he must have gone home to sleep for several days after his visit. He was always up for helping with anything that was going on... and there was/is a lot going on!

At the end of the month there was a week without any farmers markets so we decided to take that as holiday, not that we were planning to go away, just spend some time together, going out for a day here and there, with an emphasis on relaxation rather than doing... but... it turned out to be the week to make hay, so we did... and then there was the pig that came out in a mange sort of rash... we did get a day at the seaside, and one the way home we collected a breeding trio of Ixworth chickens. Rare breed chickens that are, apparently, a very fine eating bird. So our holiday came and went without us really noticing it... but it was a nice thought, and my mother often says, "it's the thought that counts"!

The month has ended on a high - not only temperature-wise, but livestock-wise too. Mum gave birth to her first live calf. White Foot was born on one of the hottest days. We were alerted buy the farmer working one of the neighbouring fields. He followed the sounds of Mark's tractor (he was turning hay at the time) and told us that one of the cows had calved and was looking "rather poorly". When we arrived Mum was crashed out on the grass looking... well... not a pretty sight... but the calf was ALIVE. For those of you who don't know the story, Mum is a Belgian Blue cow who is one of the original batch of animals we bought with the farm back in December 2000. She avoided going to the butcher because she lost her eartag the night before. She has had 2 calves, neither of which have made it. Mum is a special cow. She's like the matriarch of the farm. If we need the animals in the barn, Mum will show the way. If we need a steer brought out of the herd, Mum will help us do that. And she and Prospect, our bull, are good buddies. So, the live calf was an unimaginable delight... but poor old Mum looked completely befuddled. We fetched and carried buckets of water with homoeopathic remedies of arnica and calc carb in them. Several buckets later (why couldn't she have collapsed nearer the water trough?), she lifted her head and licked her calf... I sat in the field on the upturned bucket with tears streaming down my face. Today is the 31st July... more of their progress next month.