Life behind bars

Any one noticed this muppet of a lamb wedged behind the five bar gates? I only just spotted her as I walked in for a cuppa.

Little Joan, a tiny coloured Ryeland lamb (we have a bigger cat than her) had decided the grass was greener behind the gates and pressed onwards until she got completely stuck.

She was a bit stiff but none the worse for wear and as you can see Geisha was pleased her little shadow was back.

Thanks Dad

I took Stable Sprite to see the cutting room and all the techno butchery gear today with a view to buying some of the kit together like the 50/50 bacon slicer we already have. He sold us our first pigs and since I first started bothering him we have become friends despite the fact he is a lot older than me and he hates snow. On the way he asked if I had a business plan other than the machinery is all shiny. Er... no, but its so shiny and clean and for sale so its got to be worth having.

We had a good look around, the fully fitted cutting room was a palace to butchery, in every cupboard there were sharp things, armoured aprons, chain mail and stainless steel goodies that looked like the Inquisition would buy a set. We opened one cupboard and found a hydraulic sausage maker capable of turning a whole elephant into bangers in 6.7 seconds. Stable Sprite just shook his head and watched while I wandered round making noises like a distressed magpie.


I began to realise that bringing Stable Sprite was like taking your Dad to see a motorbike, he wasn't going to be impressed. We left. Cheque books intact. Over a massive breakfast of sausage egg bacon and beans at Rock HQ Stable Sprite aka Dad passed judgement. "Shall we buy it?"
" No." was the emphatic answer. "How many pigs have you got?" he continued.
None.
"Have we got a room to put it in?"
No.
"Do we need all that stuff, really, yes I know its shiny, but will we need it?"
Thoughts of epic battles with a hose firing mince at 100,000,000 miles an hour into ever expanding sausage skins combined with my ability to cock things up sprang to mind. No.
"So why are we thinking of spending money on kit we don't need, for a room we don't have for pigs we haven't got?"
Apparently because its there, good enough for Mallory was not a good enough reason for Stable Sprite, and because its shiny cut no ice either.

Fresh meat for the grinder

Spring seemed to be in the air at Rock HQ and although it might look like its snowing in the stable in these pictures this is no freak of nature.

Dotty and Bliss decided to help us out while we mucked and got amongst the sawdust sending plumes skywards in what they thought was a great game. Lucky for them Apollo was more interested in eating his breakfast rather than exercising his authority over his quarters.

The spring type weather put us in a good mood and much of the day was spent planning for future events, like the arrival of Hetty. Despite not having an income at the moment we decided to invest in a trailer that looked like an absolute bargain from a farm over the hill. This will be put to good use fetching and carrying feed, hay, transporting the boys, taking the pigs to slaughter and of course fetching our prize Dexter. The nice lady who sold us the trailer also has a fully fitted cutting room and all the industrial gubbins needed to supply an army with sausages, burgers and packed fresh meat. I have decided to buy the mincer and burger press, as long as I can sell enough of my Star Wars lego all will be well. There was so much stuff there. She even had a walk in cold room to store all the meat in, go on make me an offer for the lot, I'll even deliver it she said. If only we were lottery winners!

Anyway after lusting after her sausage maker she did plant the seed of an idea that by the time we got home had germinated into a fully grown plan. She had three bucket calves, these little beasts sell quite cheaply as a by product of the dairy industry, bull calves are killed almost as soon as they are born as no one wants them. This means that there are many cheap calves available to those who have the time and inclination to bucket feed them and get them up to a good size before they are turned into beef. One of these would be ideal to keep Hetty company, and as two are just as easy to look after as one, well why not. So if all goes well they will be here the week after Hetty.

Accommodation is always tight here so the goats are on a final countdown. Either they go to a good home or they become a new culinary experiment and rugs. Goat burgers anyone?

DIY with animals

I'm not sure how useful he thought he was being but Rocky our Berner decided to "help" me with the decorating today. It was never going to be an easy task, painting the conservatory walls with so much through traffic but I decided the wear and tear had got too much to bear so a quick lick of paint and a promise to do it properly once the new entrance through the annex was completed would have to suffice. The first coat applied yesterday had a near perfect right hand dog print where he lent against it while watching me do the complicated bit around the door and behind the settle.

Suitably chastised he kept a low profile today as I wielded the paintbrush for round two. All went well, the dogs and I avoided each other long enough for me to paint the walls and dog hair. I was happy. They were happy. I fed the critters and started carrying logs into the cottage. At this point both Rocky and I forgot about the wet paint, I walked into the conservatory, he saw me coming and dived behind the settle, so we passed each other without meeting as it were. As I put the logs down I remembered the paint, about the same time as Rocky. While he went and hid I repainted the furry patches and locked the door. Apart from the two cat paw prints just under the open window it looks pretty professional now.

This pic is from the Cauldron, its where the trolls live. Its also where the prototype Easter Island heads were carved. You can see one on the right. Hey! Its my reality, don't mess with it.

Coals to Newcastle

The last of the bacon was sorted out today, somehow since the start of November when we turned one of the boars into bacon, all except two back legs and a middle back piece has vanished into thin air.
Admittedly we did have a couple of accidents and the front picnic hams spoiled but the rest has either been eaten in sarnies or given away. Mostly sarnies. Big sarnies. Several times a day.

As the 50/50 bacon slicer is stored over at Stable Sprites domain I took the legs that I had boned and the pack of back to his kitchen where they were expertly sliced into the best looking gammons and some first class rashers. He was on the point of running out of feed so in exchange for a humungous breakfast of sausage bacon egg and beans I gave him enough to tide him over until he fetches a ton in the morning.

While I sliced he cooked and we spoke about the horror story of the Happy Pig Company. A truly miserable tale of how two people decided to keep pigs, didn't look after them, some died, the others starved, the pigs resorted to cannibalism of the bodies until a neighbour alerted the RSPCA. The poor survivors were in such poor condition that three had to be put out of their misery on site. The excuse, the pig keepers were ill. These two frequented the farmers markets selling their rare breeds pork at premium prices, under an organic banner, telling the customers who were happily spending £35 for a few chops that the pigs were fed fresh food in a field with sea breezes. The picture in the newspaper of the poor dead pig in a wheelbarrow in a sea of excrement and mud tells a different tale. Apparently the two pig keepers intend to start again once the dead ones have been removed and the RSPCA have finished their investigation. A quote from one of the chaps concerned, "Even the dead ones were happy pigs until they died" would indicate a complete lack of regard for the poor unhappy creatures they "cared" for. (The story is on line in the Daily Mail under Unhappy Pig Company)

The reason our pork and bacon tastes so good is that the pigs have had a genuinely happy time here, playing chase with the dogs, rummaging around the garden, looking for tasty treats hidden around the pig pen. Bronwyn became a firm favourite of visitors as she was the most persistent of escapees, so much so it became a waste of time putting her back so she had free run of the smallholding until it was time for her to meet her destiny, providing Pig Club with pork and sausage. Thank you Bronwyn. You were a good pig, and made excellent meat.

Remember, you get what you pay for, sausages that are 46% mechanically reclaimed "meat", most of which are from chicken carcasses are not real food.

If you want real food join Pig Club.

A day of two halves

I like smallholding, its such a contrast to "the real world" or rather such a contrast to what we used to do. Flash car, pointless shopping trips, meals out for no reason other than laziness, all that went when we started to live the dream. The car now is a mobile compost heap, at least that what it looked like in the car park today with its assortment of animal poohs and wet straw in the boot bumper recess. One thing I really miss though is the cinema, we used to go a lot, so today we made a special effort to go and see Avatar.
So the first part of the day was getting down and dirty on the farm, William paid particular attention to my repairs to the water system. I actually did the real work last night, clearing the silt out of the pipes, he paid closer attention last night, sitting on me. That's the only problem with using water direct from the stream, no not affectionate ponies, the pipes will eventually clog from the tiny dirt particles, oh, and frogs, frogs are definitely a drawback.

Geisha's leg was bathed and photographed, again its showing signs of recovering even though its still looking messy. She is the only goat that is exempt from the 2010 goat sale/giveaway/slaughter. Maggie further blotted her copy book today duffing up Maud, one of the Ryelands who happened to cross her path.

Once all the jobs were done we transformed from country bumpkins to cinema goers and along with Jill went to see Avatar in 3D. I wasn't sure what to expect but as far as stories about giant tree hugging hippy smurfs on a killing spree to save the forest goes it was all very entertaining. As I watched I kept trying to remind myself it was nothing more than a clever cartoon but is amazingly real and I soon got used to sitting wearing Buddy Holly type specs to get the 3D image. I suppose this will be the shape of things to come, someday all films will be made this way, our grandchildren will take it for granted as they will lots of technology that I remember not being around. Like mobile phones. The first one I saw was the size of a suitcase and was carried around, er, in suitcase. My mobile now is smaller than a key fob and can get the internet. Funny old world really.

Big boys toys and lucky frogs

The arrival of this monster caused almost as much excitement as last nights run in with a fox. The dogs were going mental and Pathetic Triever, or Poppy was bustling about the garden barking at the moon, so nothing seemed out of place here but I decided that I should at least show some willingness to investigate what the commotion was in the garden. Armed with pink plastic pig torch I tip toed around while the Berners engaged in their favourite competition of who could drink the most pond water. Satisfied that no zombie horde was intent on attacking our home I left the garden, crossed the lane and stood above the bramble patch, which is when the ground suddenly exploded, the dogs, who are nothing if fearless in the face of danger, ran swiftly in the opposite direction to a fox who had been sat in the brambles sizing up the chances of a chicken dinner.

The best toy ever saw off a few jobs here today, a pile of pooh Tracey and I had spent all day piling up was moved to its final resting place in two massive scoopfuls, thus saving at least 40x wheelbarrow runs of 150 metres. The root of all evil if it was thinking of making a comeback was dealt the coup de gras by the giant yellow beast as it wrenched its twisted remains from the earth. A trench was dug, the wall lined with DPC, back filled with a ton of stone for drainage and a new path dug alongside the stable.

The landslide from the lane was moved and used to block the holes in the fence and the turning space all tidied up making reversing and turning trailers a joy rather than a tedious chore. I actually managed the 3 point turn in the space available but Stable Sprites grip on the steering wheel isn't what it used to be so its going to be a lot easier on him and our ears.

So by the end of the day I was convinced that a JCB gives you a nice edge when engaged in any sort of moving stuff. It even chopped some over hanging branches down, bit right through them like a big yellow prehistoric veggie gone mad. When it moved the gates, the one we will get round to using one day, the day we need to build an enclosure strong enough to keep Lions, these are the gates for the job, til then they are just a damned nuisance, to a new location, one that I wont keep jarring my shins on as they lie in wait, well I almost kissed the pilot of the machine. He did have a soft side, he spotted the worlds luckiest frog who fell out of the bucket causing a slight hold up in excavations until it was moved to safety, but I think he would have drawn the line at being kissed by me. No matter how happy I was.

Better late than never

Spring was in the air today as I walked the mutleys around the bonsai mountain. So much so that the snowdrops have finally made an appearance, a bit later than usual due to the cold weather but its good to see them, even if these are in the garden of the ghost house and not ours. As we are on the dark side of the hill ours might be further delayed, but like they say good things come to those who wait.
Now to the uninitiated in the goings on at Rock HQ it might look like we are not making any progress but we are moving forward at a great pace. Much admin was done today and the paperwork and labels arrived for Hetty our imminent Dexter. I managed to stop them sending the "minimum" number of printed labels for out "herd" and persuaded them to send one sheet of 25 labels rather than the over the top 500, save the trees and all that.
Our sheep are happy and healthy, the pink eye has gone, it did flare up again in three of them but after another round of me playing nurse they are all better. The thought of me wrestling them to the ground to drop antibiotics in their orbits has no doubt hastened their desire to get better. They are looking good. And fat. Some suspiciously so. Crispen our Ram was sent away at the crucial time last year but it looks like he may have caught at least one, Roxy is looking like a giant marshmallow on matchsticks waddling around the yard.
I think I found the remains of Rosie up on the hill, curiously enough at the entrance of sheepskull lane. A new sheep skeleton has emerged from the dead bracken, I couldn't find a tag so cannot be sure its her or one belonging to the militia, but she has been missing for about four months along with Meg and there have been no live sightings of either of them.
Some good news is that there may be a litter of puppies here in nine weeks, Rocky and Reba have done the deed so hopefully there will be a result round about the 2nd of April. Also on the cards at that time is a visit from my family, which will mean Dad will get to see Rock HQ for the first time in real life.
There is a slight techno problem and as soon as I sort out the gitwizards who manage the site it will be resolved but for some reason the .com version is not working but the .co.uk version of TFTR is. I don't know how it works I only write it but normal service will be resumed asap. Meantime our visit rate has gone up 41% over last months figures meaning that some 30,000 visits were made, so thank you all for your support, we appreciate the emails and comments. Its good to know that some of you out there have had very similar experiences to ours. Especially with goats. We are not alone!