Monday 25 July 2011

Hit the ground running.

The past fortnight can only be described as being difficult and I am glad to see the back of it.

The sun came out on Saturday and the long term forecast looks promising so the decision was made to get the hay gathered.




The hay fields were all cut on Saturday, my son and I took turns to keep going until the cutting was finished. We stopped at around 11 pm and fell out of the cab sideways, legs trying to find their equilibrium. We appear to have upset the horsefly community (they are called clegs in Scotland) and they angrily land on any bare skin available then depart silently, leaving angry large bites as a calling card.




I had been reluctant to cut the horrible field - the one where the slope is so steep that you end up perched on one buttock in the extreme right of the cab with eyes closed. Eldest son 'mysteriously' found another job to do at that point so muggins did it With The Fear for company.

Sunday was devoted to wuffling. You fly at the rows of cut grass and a machine throws the grass into the air and turns the damp side to the sun. Wuffling has to be done several times until the grass is absolutely dry.

Tuesday will be the day that the bailing begins, if all goes well.

We have managed a partial shearing at the same time but have the rest of the flock to do. We have taken the sheep into the big shed so their fleece does not become contaminated with thistles and dockens plus they like being out of the hot sun. It also gives us a chance to inspect hooves, mouths, eyes, ears and bits, to worm and dose them against anything they may catch plus a good look at their overall condition and weight.

The springborn lambs are sturdy and seem to be thriving.

This blog entry is a bit rushed. I have an hour or so until The Farmer returns from town. The wuffler broke and needs to be fixed. It is nice just to enjoy the sun.

There is a strong smell of myrtle oil in the air; everyone is slathered in sun block and myrtle oil (which is supposed to deter midges and clegs but the jury is out on that one).

The dust from the ground sticks to our begreased bodies and we quickly become filthy.

Hopefully, a thick enough barrier to deter the clegs but not so bad as we terrify the postie.

Must go.

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