The great outdoors

Tempting isn't it! Not long now until Kobe and Hetty are turned out. Kobe is growing fast and is a friendly chap, just as well considering he is going to be a monster sized dexter.

Guinevere is building a nest in the newly vacated farrowing pen, Morgana is enjoying herself in the new accommodation built this weekend. Piggle is face down in the straw trying not to give birth. I have a feeling its not going to be too long before we have two new litters. Sales are going well, two of Iggles piglets are off to a new home in a few weeks, half of Morgana's litter are signed up for pig club, and today I was talking to a soon to be top chef who is keen on extending the menu with a little help from the rest.

The 1% club

The calm of Rock HQ this morning was in complete contrast to last nights adventures. In the time it took to fetch a bucket of water to Kayleigh, walk back to the water trough and refill the bucket ready for morning, Iggle who had just munched through her late evening rations before quaffing down a couple of litres of ice cold spring water dropped on the straw a massively large but exceptionally dead boar piglet.
My beautiful and oh so patient wife was quicker off the mark than I was and she got to the pregnant porkers side first perched on the magic blue bucket (the one with allure) wearing wicket keepers gloves ready for piglet number two, which if anything like Mangalitza piglet births are expelled at high velocity. I, being totally practical and knowing the torch would fade to black within ten minutes abused Hazel and got her up the slope and into the Corral OK where here lights set the stage for the main show.
We waited. And waited. And then some.
Half an hour had passed, Iggle was pushing, not very well, but trying and achieving nothing. Not sure if the James Herriot books actually covered pig midwifery but assuming it had to be pretty much like sheep but with sharper teeth and less wool I put a tentative hand inside Iggles bits. A head, jaw, sharp pointy teeth, another large piglet, she pushed and I pulled and out popped an equally big piglet, not nearly so dead, a girl, but she soon gave up any attempt to stay around and be future sausages. Things were not looking great and then got a whole lot worse when piglet the third started coming out arse end first. No real problem, Google how to be birth partner to a saw and it will tell you that 40% of piglets come out rear end first and that only 1% of sows require help. Knowing full well which statistic now lay heaving at our knees we clung on to the hope that Iggle would keep calm and carry on. No such luck. Minutes became hours, she walked around, squatted, played on the big inflatable ball, we offered her a curry, all to no avail. I rather rudely copped a feel around inside and could not move piglet, I knew the theory, get the legs facing back but after half an hour of furtling around the three of us, me, Iggle and potential offspring made no progress. After an hour and a half the vet was called. Paul who was disappointed to miss the birth of Kobe the calf now had an opportunity to make up for it by helping Iggle. By the time he got here piglet had been stuck for two hours and Iggle was falling asleep. Under the headlights he set about trying to free the piglet. Hope was fading, the likelihood was that this and any remaining offspring would be still born. Fifteen minutes and a lot of grunting, not all from the pig, Paul told us he had got one leg forward, another five and the second leg, time slowed as he matched a heave to Iggles push and another large piglet joined us. It lay on the floor with the three of us watching for vital signs. It sneezed, coughed, rolled around and sprang to its feet. Not what any of us was expecting (its now called Gloria, as in I will survive) but it lifted the mood and pretty soon three more sows, all born head first, were clambering around the sty demanding breakfast.

His work done Paul had a quick look at Kobe, complimented Rock HQ on its fertility and left. I stayed in the pen until 3am as Iggle refused to sleep, being a bit sore she was still thinking that she had other piglets to come. We knew different. Finally she gave in, not before squishing a piglet but as I was there all was well.
Today the lack of sleep caught up with us all, Iggle has managed not to crush any piglets and they are a healthy happy bunch.
Thankfully the threat of rain all day was an ideal excuse not to concrete, instead we spent time playing with little t, trying to work out how to get Hazel back off the Corral OK, watching piglets and stroking the calf. There are too many time wasting opportunities here now.

Happy Mothers Day

While the apprentice smallholder made his mothers heart melt by giving her his efforts with blue paint on canvas, several cd's that the cd police are not allowed to confiscate and some chocolates, yours truly was faced with a mad cow making funny noises and looking at me funny. So part of the day was spent moving critters around in the hope that a new configuration would ease the housing shortage for mothers to be. Matters became critical mid morning when Piggle started to build a nest and any idea that she might only be faking pregnancy in order to avoid Mr Whirlpool were dismissed as she has now, along with her sister Iggle achieved the hallowed accolade of pet status, meaning I cannot eat her and I need to find her somewhere to live. Fast.

So, Daffodil was taken along with Mindy from the med bay which also houses the straw in large white bags, and put in what was the old rabbit run but was more lately the goat house (Big rabbits or small goats, you decide) All animals were given a generous bedding allowance which emptied two white bags, the remaining two were placed up on the bank on pallets double wrapped to prevent wetness. This meant Hetty could go into the med bay which really pleased Kayleigh who until today had been forced to double up with Hetty as Hetty kept jumping out of the Corral OK.

After a lovely Sunday lunch with my beautiful and oh so patient wife's mum and brother where little t demonstrated his newly acquired skill with a spoon, I got back on with the new order.
Iggle and Piggle were separated from the three little (massive) pigs (without us spending hours running up and down the lane shouting at naughty porkers who wouldnt go where they were supposed to be, honest) and put in a purpose built substantially reinforced pig pen off the Corral OK where they soon made them self at home in the deep straw bed and we will have to wait and see what, if anything, happens there.

Today's jobs have only bought us some breathing space, we still need more space, or rather the space taken up by the three not so little pigs. This may be resolved by next weekend. By which time there are bound to be new critters here.

Day 18 30 30 lvl 15 endurance hill 21.6km (Buckcherry, Buckcherry)

Yes 21.6km a personal best.

Well, if its this easy....

Preparations for lambing took on a sense of urgency this morning, when I say preparations I mean worrying about where we are going to house everything as Iggle and Piggle plus the three little pigs are taking up valuable space on account of their still breathing, as Ebony was trailing what looked like an umbilical cord from her tuppence (technical term for a lady sheeps foo) She was eating and acting like any other berserk Ryeland when faced with a feed bucket but the foot long bit of internal plumbing dragging behind was a cause for concern for me if not her. She objected to being turned over (missing breakfast) no sign of having given birth but a search of the local geography failed to locate any offspring or further gory bits. Unsure what was happening I phoned my dad who has helped into this world more sheeps in a days lambing than I ever will in a lifetime of smallholding, his advice was wait and see what happens. So I did and she hasn't exploded, keeled over or expired so the wait continues.

Return from work the plan was to go and look to see what if anything else was going on with the sheep but there was a man test waiting in the yard. A one ton bale of straw. Now not having a tractor with a spike lifty bit at the front I am somewhat disadvantaged in moving these monster bales. There is an epic tale of how I moved one by rolling it halfway up the mountain, but this one was for bedding down all beast, including new beds for new mum sheeps. The jolly farmer who dropped it off some where closely approximating where I actually wanted it (ie. planet earth) and so the test of the evening was to get this unwrapped, deposited in 7 different locations at all ends of the smallholding and store the rest, but, and this was important, it had to be done without waiting any and before it got wet. The rain clouds were approaching across the valley.

So the test began, the pigs in the stable got new beds, the pigs at the far end including Thor the boar who by the looks of him has discovered what his purpose in life is, all got new beds, as did Kayliegh, Hetty and the boys. I was still faced with half of the bale in the yard, thankfully my beautiful and o so patient wife, Tracey, reminded me that I might have stored carefully some big white feed sacks in Trixie. Sure enough, right as ever, so the remainder was bagged up and put in the med bay. Success, man test passed, barely a stem of straw wasted, a lot less wasted than from the small bales that we normally buy. As I stood there, sweating like only a fat bloke can who has lugged a ton of straw every which way, contemplating how great I was the patient one pipes up "Well if its this easy we should always do it this way"

Day 7 30 30 lvl 14 outdoor training 13km (Best of Aerosmith)

I have to admit to some disappointment this morning as for once when we are totally prepared right down to the water tanks being brim full the big freeze failed to appear and the much herladed snow was 6mm rather than 6 feet. Steve the electrician appeared and delivered the bad news that because I had opted for a nuclear powered cooker the drain on the national grid was so massive that substantial new parts were needed for the already fragile wiring in the cottage. While we knew the 12 volt system was under par the revelation that an all new 60 amp rig was needed and the maximum capacity we had was one third of this. My offer of jamming half a nine inch nail in the fuse box to carry the necessary charge across the gap failed to win any support so we relented to having another box of tricks attached to the wall so we can cook without having to turn off Mr Whirlpool the freezer who will be needed to accommodate Iggle and Piggle next week.

Dawn of a new ice age

An extraordinary sight greeted us this morning, the ground, trees and most slow moving critters were coated in frost. Mid January and frost? Who ever would have thought it? Why it was plus 13 the other day, I was outside at midnight wearing only a t shirt (well not only I had trousers and boots but you know what I mean) and here we are minus 6! Somebody should do something about this sort of thing. I blame the Government. So it would seem winter has finally got fed up with spring trying to push in and has put in a late appearance.

I was happy about this as it meant less sloshing around in knee deep mud

and even the mundane became more attractive when coated in ice crystals.

Jobs of the day included some real therapeutic stuff. Chopping logs is always fun. And butch. Much more macho than milking goats and I am embarrassed to say that I am getting goat maids grip, a sort of cramp that occurs from repetitive squeezing, however this is a small price to pay for the lovely creamy milk on my soggies this morning. I also realised late last night that the startled looks on the faces of colleagues when I left a late evening meeting saying "I'm sorry I have to go and milk the goat" was from them thinking this was some new form of euphemism for something unsavoury.

Time was spent with the new arrivals, and after a trip to a Gate shop (yes there are such things)we look like, for once, we are organised as the new hurdles will keep Kurry from the milk bar (he has been helping himself) and when we add the rest of the hurdles there will be lambing pens aplenty. Much much different from our first lambing in 2007 where one ewe was separated from the other by old rabbit hutches and string. We thought we were doing well when we used straw bale walls last year, but these metal hurdles with interlocking ends and clip on hay racks are the bee's knees and almost as much fun a Lego!

Tomorrow there are a lot of moves planned, the new goats go into a bespoke goat house with patio (just in case the agoraphobia is cured) The three now not so little pigs plus Iggle and Piggle move into the space vacated by Kayleigh and Kurry, (where they await the quick trip to the clestial sty and Mr Whirlpool) Thor moves out of what was always supposed to be the dairy, but is usually the med bay or emergency shelter, and down to live in the pig pen with Bridget and Pamela. What we hope will happen is that there Thor will forget his love for Apollo and do the business with his own kind. This might be wishful thinking but we are nothing if not optimistic at Rock HQ.
Not sure what Apollo will think of it.

Its not a competition

No, its not a competition, and that's not a reference to who can take the best picture of the pigs (although my efforts with a Box Brownie below I think are are pretty good) no this is a reference to the apparent competition between the critters as to who can be the most annoying. Some how the two Mangalitzas managed to escape the big pen and were found loitering with intent in the garden.
The cunning plan to get them to follow the feed bucket was an epic fail as they found the rabbits quarters and spent an interesting fifteen minutes or so terrorising the long eared rodents.
Meanwhile in the big pen the well behaved piggies were rewarded with a couple of buckets of windfall plums and damsons as today's gale brought them down a plenty. The two naughty piggies eventually saw the error of their ways and made it back to the big pen in time for the nut fest, I had been collecting the fallen nuts as well while waiting for them to sort their lives out.
Morgana took the opportunity to hog the bath
and Iggle showed how clever she was by drinking straight from the hosepipe.