Goats update

Here is a picture of Geisha's leg a week on, still looks a mess but its a whole lot better than a week ago and she is using it more, scratching her ear with it today. She is still annoying and eating everything, her current favourite treat is apple flavoured horse treats.

Maggie is taking advantage of being top goat while Juliet is locked up for the good of the roof/garden/trees and my sanity. She has claimed the annex as her own, making a nest amongst the bales and lording it over the sheep if they try to get a share. She sticks to her bed like a limpet until the sheep are fed which is when she will immediately decide her bed is not comfortable enough in the annex and settles down to sleep on the Ryelands hay in the yard. She plays this game all day.

The power of the bucket

Anyone doubting the power of the bucket should take a look at this. We tried to get Maggie back today. The bucket worked. A bit too well.

We managed to get Maggie back to our side of the fence, eventually, but as you can see below we had a few of her new friends that followed the bucket along with us.

Ouch!

At last, proof that goats can be useful! Maggie clearing some of the stinging nettles from the drive. It must hurt. Surely!

But then again its going to take a lot of nettle clearing to make up for the damage to the sweet chestnut tree she caused earlier this week!

Goat buster

I was asked again the other day, why do you keep goats?

The above picture shows Archie and Ambrose legging it after being caught vandalising the lemon tree (first year we had the tree we grew 13 use able lemons, 2nd year when we had goats we grew a few shattered twigs).

Bravo broke her tether today and fortunately for all concerned was caught in the vegetable garden before she ate anything other than cumprhey. She took refuge in the empty greenhouse thinking I wouldn't notice her, then tried to run out through the end glass wall in an attempt to evade capture.

Juliet forgot about her tether today and climbed into a small sycamore tree, fell, wrapped her tether around a branch and just managed not to hang herself by standing very upright until I arrived with the branch loppers to free her.

Geisha spilt a bucket of dog food across the yard while Maggie climbed into Fifi for a forensic examination of the rear luggage compartment in search of spilt animal feed.

I have been stung, brambled, bit, fought off horns and generally suffered at the hooves of our herd and in return ended up with zero milk. Again.

So I ask myself, why do I keep goats?

Battle of the breakfast bowl!

Maggie takes issue with Daffodil over breakfast rights.

A.N.D.Q.

The Boys are happy to be outside so much, just as well as their stables are being put to good use as a casualty clearing station for goats with bad feet and as a maternity ward for the goats that refuse to produce their kids. Finally we seem to have cured the Anglo Nubians bad feet and Maggie and Geisha are walking normally after a shot of anti biotics, buckets of savlon wash and several cans of purple spray, some of which I managed to get onto the target area of the infected hoof but most of which I managed to apply to myself, my clothes and my wife who was holding the offending goats limb steady for me at the time.

Tomorrow should be interesting, the Technohermit has invited me for a cup of tea at 7pm. I'm unsure what the protocol is on these occassions, should I take my own cup I wonder, what does one wear, and most importantly, should I enter his lair if he asks me?

Answers to all these questions I hope to discover tomorrow.

We are not amused

Maggie is not impressed with the new additions to the embryonic goat herd at Rock HQ. In fact she has sulked and watched from a distance as Juliet, another armed version of the goat world and with an eye on the herd leader position, instantly challenged Maggie to a duel and much to every ones surprise put Maggie on her backside and ultimately in her place.

So Maggie the now deposed goat queen who has ruled Rock HQ since her mothers premature death is having to get used to the idea that she is no longer top dog of the herbivores that wander our domain. She hasn't taken this well and is currently sulking in the goat house while the new goats have the luxurious setting of Apollos stable as we wait for them to give birth.

I am developing similar feelings for the new goats, a distinct lack of amusement as Juliet shows every sign of imminent production of kids. So much so that we have had her on 3 hour watch, right through the night our alarm goes off and I dutifully get dressed and stagger bleary eyed out to the stable block only to discover the miracle of birth still hasn't taken place. She is doing all the right thing, has become more vocal, a bit bad tempered with her stall mates, white discharge from her bits, followed by red discharge, lots of stretching, lying down and licking of her sides but 48 hours on no little ones to reward her efforts and my lack of sleep.

Tonight I am not setting the alarm, I am going to sleep.

Apollo lift off

Ever wondered how horses stand up?

Apollo was exhausted after his little adventure around the hill on Friday night and spent most of Saturday asleep, not standing on all fours nodding type sleep but proper lie down on his side fast asleep. After today's efforts I know how he feels.

As always we had the routine to attend to, pigs got fed, sheep got shouted at and fed, goats had their bad behaviour ignored and fed, horses were mucked out and fed, all were watered, dogs were walked and wheel barrow loads of muck were taken along something akin to an assault course for wheelbarrows to drop off horse business onto the raised beds. This should rot down over the next few months, the worms will have a party and it will also raise the temperature of the ground a bit, especially with a layer of black polythene type cloth over it, it all looks really neat and tidy for a while. All this effort soon attracted the attention of the Ryelands and Apollo the wonder foal and a fairly accurate reenactment of Custer's last stand took place in the gateway as I bravely fought off the horde of sheep led by a pony and prevented them entering the hallowed ground of the garden. Roxy being especially quick did manage a ten yard incursion but I managed to wrestle her along the path and eject her to join her comrades.

Geisha looked miserable and was lying down, a quick look at her hooves and she had a minor spot of footrot. So started a mammoth chiropody session for all the sheep and goats. Maggie being armed and dangerous was the most trouble but luckily her feet needed the least amount of trimming so saving us being gored on her horns. My chest still bears the scar from the time we simultaneously tried to lean into a feed bin. In her panic to get out her horn punctured my jacket and gave me a very fetching wound.

Both sheep and goats have hooves that continually grow, left unattended they fold over on themselves, collect dirt which rots and so the poor beast gets an infection which unchecked cripples them. So two or three times a year we open the chiropody clinic and shortly after I go to see the chiropractor to have my bad back put right.

It looks like Bailey has a new home to go to, just as well as he has a fondness for our ducks and the cats absolutely hate him, poor lad. I think Greyhounds are a bit of a Marmite dog, you either love them or hate them.

Bonny continues to thrive, she looks a mess but since the scary night when we thought she, Sandy and Katy were about to shuffle off their mortal coils she has gone from strength to strength. As you can see she has lost most of her wool from the fright she had when attacked by the dog fox.

Final update, Patches continues to win the battle for supremacy in the pet status race over Pixie, she continues to be twice the size and twice as friendly.

All in all, what with getting Beth a different car, The Stable Sprite and his wife coming to dinner and taking Mad Keith a Sunday roast it has been a packed weekend at Rock HQ.

We wouldn't have it any other way!

Goats. Why Bother?

Anyone wanting to keep goats should think long and hard about it, then go and seek medical help as you do need your head examined. No sane person would put up with their antics.

This is just one morning with Maggie and Geisha.

First they tried to eat all the lambs food.

Then they knocked over the poultry feed bucket and had a second breakfast.

Having been chased off from the hay put out for the sheep Maggie doubled back and stole Trevor's breakfast, at the same time claiming the bale of hay put out for Apollo who is in the background looking most put out.

So why would you keep goats?

Well.

Entertainment value obviously!



ANDQ!

Anything goes

Goats have a reputation for eating everything, they don't, but they do try everything. Maggie has taken this rotten gourd from the compost. She seems to like it.

ANDQ

A.N.D.Q!

Can anyone see a potential problem here?

Maggie does this but as she has horns she can't get out as easily as Geisha!

A.N.D.Q!

Big girls don't cry

Before we took over the smallholding I used to work over 60 miles away from home, this meant hours in the car, tedious journeys, backache, bad temper and a huge fuel bill. I would be sat in my car watching the seasons change and somehow feel very disconnected from the world.

As luck would have it, just after we signed for the monster mortgage and moved my job disappeared and very fortunately I got a better job some twenty minutes from Rock HQ. There are times however where work calls me away and I have to go to London or some other large city in order to fulfil my paid work role.

Today was such a day and so it was important to get a good nights sleep as I had four hours of driving and the nightmare of Birmingham's rush hour to negotiate. My escape to the land of nod didn't get off to an auspicious start when the bedside light decided to play up. A sudden flash of light as Tracey and I lay in the dark alerted us to the fact that something was wrong. As we lay wondering if there was an electrical storm the lamp buzzed on and off again, something was up with the dimmer switch. I listened patiently as Tracey fiddled with the switch before she announced it was not fixable so she would unplug it. To a pulsating lightshow that would have been the envy of many a nightclub she valiantly tried to unplug the lamp. No, we would have to get out of bed and move it so she could reach the plug. I duly obeyed and soon we were spared the fit inducing strobes and replaced the bed against the wall in the dark.

We settled down to sleep, Tracey commented that it would be funny if the light flashed now it was unplugged, agreeing that would be a good trick I turned over and was immediately confronted by a flashing light. For a split second my fuddled brain tried to work out why the unplugged lamp was still flashing but it was my phone, Beth just letting us know she wasn't coming home, cheers. Finally sleep beckoned.

A noise.

A weird unearthly noise from outside. Both of us held our breath as we tried to hear it again. There it was, a horrible screeching sound like a werewolf being castrated with a blunt pair of scissors. Louder this time.

Tracey opened the window.

Foxes?

No.

Shhhh.

Its the goats, screaming. They were safe in the goat houses, they had food, water, shelter, no natural predator apart from me if they carried on making such a row and making that much noise they were not ill. Ignore it. They will soon be quiet.

They were quiet.

The beagles started to howl. Thoughts of dog and goat curry came and went.

Midnight already.

The goats started again.

2am already.

4am they are still calling. Tracey volunteers to check on them, both are fine but she lets them out of the goat houses as its the only way to keep them quiet.

4.30 am we settle down to sleep. Bleating outside the bedroom window, at least one of the goats want us to come out to play. I decide against throwing things at them and stuff the pillows in my ears.

6am alarm goes off and despite it hitting the wall it still rings forcing me into action. I shower, dress, grab a coffee and go. The goats, perhaps sensing my bad temper are nowhere to be seen.

Tracey text me later on, she has found out why they were making such an ungodly racket. Wolves? Hungry? Wet? Cold?

No none of these, they want a Billy goat, both have come into season and were calling for a Billy to come and ease their feelings of frustration.

We don't have one so they have settled for Crispy the Ram and are currently bothering him, at least they are quiet now, he's taking one for the team.

Poor lad.

Autumn Colours

We took the boys for a walk today, determined to shake the melancholy mood that has been hanging over Rock HQ, so set off down the track to Worzel Wood and along to the river. Apollo seems to have got over his fear of puddles and happily waded across the ford to the lush grass the other side. The horses spent a few minutes munching before we turned them back towards Rock HQ. We stopped every now and then as the colours of the woodland were quite simply amazing.

William doing what he does best, eating.

Apollo is a close runner up in the speed grazing competition.

Back at Rock HQ we set about the jobs list, wood got sawn, chopped and put away, the Focus was started and driven up and down the track (we still haven't been able to sell this car!)Animals were cleaned, cleaned out, fed and watered. Sandy has, we think made a full recovery but for the time being he is confined to barracks with Daffodil and Bonny as stablemates. Apollo has taken the woolly invasion of his stable very well and last night was curled up asleep with the three Ryelands curled up around him, they looked like a Nativity playset. Oh the times I wish I had the camera with me!

While Tracey and I worked the dogs sloshed up and down the lane and shared their mud enthusiastically with walkers. One of the local militia turned up and got a bit waspy as he couldn't get his quad bike along the lane as our Toyota van has died and partially blocks the track, we managed to translate his squeaking, he wanted us to move the van as he was in a hurry to get around the hill as they were rounding up the sheep, hopefully not for pie fillings. The van hasn't moved for months but with a team effort and more squeaking from the militiaman we managed to shift it, he still managed to get stuck so we had to pick the quad up and carry it the final two feet.

All in all its has been a very good and very productive day, one that has lifted our spirits.

I did at one time get a strange feeling like I was being watched.

Funny what you find lurking in the trees here!

You have been warned!

Famous last words

It was probably my fault, as we got into Rene after work tonight and settled in the comfy leather seats I happened to comment as I turned the key and started the engine something like "You know this is the first time we have started a week off without having a big job or emergency to deal with."

As Rene nosed his way into traffic Tracey and I planned the week ahead, reflected on a good day at work where we had met a good friend who had treated us to lunch, managed to get all the jobs done so we wouldn't be worried about problems at work, all was good in our world yet again. Better still the sun was shining and although this was the last time we would be driving home in the daylight til next year our spirits were high and we looked forward to shutting the gate at the bottom of our drive and concentrating on our small farm for the next nine days.

Once home I got on with sawing wood, I can manage this by kneeling on it as my arm still wont allow me to put any real weight on it, not weight enough to stop branches moving while I saw anyway. The magnificent seven raced around, Apollo was mooching through the fallen leaves munching the odd tasty one and Maggie stood and chewed thoughtfully while watching me. After a short time I did begin to wonder where Geisha was, now goats are fairly independent creatures but they are herd animals and half the herd was with me. I carried on sawing and carried in the logs, checked in with Tracey who was tidying up after me in the house and I returned to the stables to begin the mucking out.

Apollo had decided to try and get in the garden through the back gate, as I diverted the foal from entering the forbidden zone I could see Maggie had by now abandoned the newly sawn log pile and was half way up the cliff. Again. A plaintive bleat alerted me to Geisha's plight. As you can see from the picture she was in real trouble. Now you might think it heartless that I stopped to picture the stranded animal, what you cannot see in the picture is how torn up the ground was in front of her from her struggles and how high up she was at the edge of a drop. Prone to falling myself I wasn't going to approach the distressed goat without backup so took this picture as I waited for Tracey to get to us.

Geisha has a huge appetite and what seems to have happened is that she saw me feed the lambs this morning and decided to attempt to jump the stock fence at the base of the cliff. Somehow her hoof got entangled and trapped between the top barbed wire strand and the top square of the stock netting. Stuck fast she had struggled and fallen over the edge hanging for a while by her hoof. Eventually she must have made it back onto the "level" part and was waiting utterly exhausted for us to free her. It took seconds to cut the wire but carrying her down the steep muddy bank was an exercise in patience and teamwork. Luckily Tracey and I work well together and in a few minutes Geisha was wrapped up warmly in Trevor's stable and instantly eating anything on offer. It did get quite emotional at one point for all concerned, especially as we had flashbacks to losing our prize Anglo Nubian milk goat Fuchsia last year who died very suddenly. Her final moments were made as comfortable as possible lying on a bed of hay with her head in my lap. Her last goodbye was to vomit into my lap as she exhaled for the last time.

Geisha seems to be OK despite her ordeal, she is cold but has not stopped eating since she was moved to the stable. Her hip doesn't seem to have dislocated like we first thought, she is incredibly tired and in obvious shock but she looks like she will recover.

Back in Rock HQ we had a stiff drink, some old Christmas sherry, well any port in a storm and its better than our home brew which is impossible to drink even when desperate laced with lemonade and spoonfuls of sugar. Tracey reminded me what I had said earlier. I shall have to be more careful with my choice of words in future!

On tonights menu!

Our sheep are not spoilt you understand, I didn't spend ages picking up Bramely apples for them, carry them across the mud and drop them off for their dinner. So on tonight's menu they have grass, hay and apples.

In the background Maggie the Anglo Nubian cross is trying to decide whether to brave the rain and gales or set off back to the nice dry goat house, calories or comfort, a hard choice for any greedy goat!

And I didn't spend ages getting the apples, The Oracles wife gave us about fifty pounds of windfall for the animals.

Bless her.

Same goat different day!

I don't know why she does it, but she does.

Later in the day these two wandered into the workshop like the school bullies intent on picking on Steve the electrician as he finished his work. This time he was ready for them and gave chase using the power drill like a machine gun complete with authentic dakkadakkadakka noises. This quiet chap who is more likely to consult a crystal to find a lay line rather than use a power tool as a pretend lethal weapon took the goats completely by surprise and they ran off down the lane as fast as their cloven feet could carry them. This spectacle was witnessed by Beth, our daughter who was almost as surprised as the goats but stood her ground as a very embarrassed electrician tried to explain that he hadn't gone completely mental and that he only used power tools on goats as a last resort.

We now have lights in the stables, a further delay was caused by a mismatched wire but the power of Steve's crystal saved the day and rather than having to strip the entire wiring system to find the break a quick dangle of his crystal and the faulty switch was magically discovered.

The lights are excellent, almost like daylight in the stables so we can work after dark til the goats come home. I do have one anxiety though, the light at the end, the one that shines into the wilderness is so bright I think aircraft might try and land here instead of the runway over in Shobdon. So far we haven't woken up to a Cessna taxiing along the drive but knowing the weird and wonderful things that happen here its only a matter of time!

A narrow escape

I am beginning to question the logic of walking across the hill with a rucksack of apples on my back for the pigs.

Its saving about three pounds a day, obviously the pigs enjoy them and I am getting fitter carrying them. Those are the positives.

There is a down side.

So far I have been accosted by The Oracle who thought I was a thieving hippy, terrorised by a naked hermit running through the bracken, hit on the head countless times a la Issacc Newton in my quest to get the fruit to obey the laws of gravity therefore allowing me to retrieve them from the ground rather than risking life and limb climbing the tree, risked the wrath of the witch from the ghost house (she is an ex witch but the curse remains, don't look back) and exposed myself to injury as the sturdy hazel branch I launch enthusiastically skywards to knock the apples down follows a trajectory that inevitably sends me scurrying for safety (into the path of falling apples) to avoid a head injury.

I am used to getting strange looks from walkers on the hill, usually as I am accompanied by a goat and have a machete in my hand, but wearing a crash helmet as a precaution against falling fruit and logs is perhaps one step too far.

So today I resolved to retrieve the precious fruits from a cottage on the hill which is unoccupied, one of the three holiday homes. This was an easy mission even for an accident prone person like myself. The tree was just inside the garden and no on lives there, its on the dark side of the hill out of view, I can pick the apples at my leisure. Even with a goat and four of the magnificent seven racing around this was going to be easy.

I started to fill my bag but was feeling distinctly uneasy. More uneasy than I did in the garden of the ghost house where you know you are being watched from the windows, don't look back.

I was sure there was someone here in the garden with me. It was then I saw the gardener,my old army skills hadn't deserted me, I saw my foe before he saw me. Admittedly I was assisted by the fact he was using a petrol strimmer which sort of gave his position away and I was able to make a tactical withdrawal without being detected.

Once back on the hill path I regrouped and started back down the hill with my entourage, four dogs and a goat.

Except she was missing.

From the sudden silence of the strimmer and the explosion of oaths Maggie had decided to stay behind and help the gardener. I considered for a moment going back to help, she was after all one of ours, we shouldn't leave her behind, I should show compassion and mercy, it was an unfair fight.

I made good my escape, the gardener would have to fend for himself.

Copy cat criminal

This is what I found first thing this morning, a real life horse thief, William our welsh cob taking a leaf out of the goats already blotted copy book and robbing the haystack.

He compounded his crime by having escaped from the safe confines of his field overnight leaving poor Trevor to wander about all alone. The goats are currently in the Goatanamo maximum security annex next to the kennels as Maggie has found a way into the garden, the vegetable garden that is, its taken her five months but shes succeeded. He arrival in the veg patch put an end to our beans, severely hampered some of the cabbages and terminated the sweet peas. They will stay incarcerated until a new fence is erected along the lane.

Williams training is coming on leaps and bounds, we have had him just over a year and he has filled out nicely, still not fully grown but strong enough to begin backing him. Tonight after work, and after I conducted another successful apple raid I walked alongside him while my ever so patient wife Tracey sat on him and rode him down the lane to our turning circle and back again. He was as good as gold and performed admirably. By the look in his eye I suspect he is saving himself for when I sit on him and at that point he will no doubt Chuck a mental, throw me off and stamp all over me.

The perils of horsemanship are nothing to the perils of the workshop landing, bring it on William, bring it on.

Will she ever learn?

If you read last nights episode you might be thinking that this is a strange form of revenge exacted on Maggie the Ninja goat by Steve the electrician.

In actual fact this is self inflicted and the result of the greedy goat trying to steal oats from the food store.

As I was feeding Apollo I heard some crashing about and this is what I found.

When will she ever learn?

Stuck in Goatanamo

The Goatanamo detention centre for goats is working, no escapes since the day they were introduced. They seem happy enough and certainly fatter scoffing all the brambles and shrubs on the 45 degree slope. Maggie the anglo nubian boer cross had eaten her way into the centre of a big bramble thicket and after several hours of turning around got herself tangled up and trapped. A bit of gentle coaxing and she almost got free but had to be cut loose by her caring owner who braved the nettles, brambles and preciptious ledge behind the stables on which Goatanamo is situated.

As you can see at the end of the clip the goats are definately more sure footed than I am!