I’ve never been a lot of use at keeping a diary but I have decided to be fashionable and start a blog. Although I do mention my smallholding and my family (and other animals) in the magazine, I thought readers might like to reflect on my own experiences in the world of smallholding. These days, the magazine does keep me rather busy, so I no longer keep goats or sheep. I was a fairly inspired lamber with a regular 200% lambing thanks to Andrew Eales’ marvellous book on lambing. I went on a lambing course first which helped a lot as the real thing, your first ewe lambing, is a pretty frightening experience. In the time I kept sheep I learnt a lot. There are many pearls of wisdom I could offer but one thing that was so true was the words, ‘ if something is going wrong, be it a difficult lambing or a lamb that won’t suck, it will only get worse if you leave it.’ Consequently my first couple of years did bring their share of vets bills but I learnt from each one and towards the end of my sheep keeping I only called the vet in situations that were beyond my skill such as truly bad mal-presentations. I miss the sheep but as my smallholding is four acres and I used to move them round the area using electric fencing (they were a ‘flying flock’ in every sense of the words, especially when they escaped), I really don’t have the time now to do this. We are still fortunate that we do have a small local abattoir, not as local as the first one we used but still quite close and there is still a livestock vet within 30 miles. Now I buy meat from other smallholders – and last week Maureen James, who writes the ‘Countryfolk’ in Smallholder, rang me to say my half a Gloucester Old Spot was ready and should she and her partner bring it round? Frantic scrabbling in the freezer ensued to clear the space necessary for this generous pig. The chops have quite a layer of fat on them and when you cook them they are unlike anything I have ever tasted – absolutely delicious. I have to get out my ‘how to use all bits of a pig’ book as we get through the obvious cuts of meat but I do refuse the head – I know I should get on and make pig’s head brawn but memories of my mother doing this do not make me feel that I want to. It was when the teeth floated to the top…. Ugh it still makes me squirm even now. The trotters go to a friend of mine who finds them a delicacy. I also had Golden Guernsey goats for many years and I was extremely upset when Faith, the oldest, finally had to be put down. I rehomed them to a City Farm a few years ago basically due to lack of time as the time needed to put together the magazine increased but perhaps I should have read Felicity Stockwell’s sensible article in our May issue on how to fit in 9-5 and goats. My other problem was that try as I would I could not get my foster children to drink goat’s milk, nor any other member of my family and I didn’t have time to turn it into cheese. I do love goats though and as dairy animals, for their size, they are higher yielding than cows and I hugely respect them for this.
So now what do I have? A new venture, bees. Mick (my partner) said that if one bee entered this smallholding he would buzz off. One morning I was diligently working away on smallholding and he was home on holiday. A van drew up and next I heard Mick shouting up to the office, ‘There’s a man here who says he has bees for you!’
It turned out that a casual conversation with a beekeeper some time ago had resulted in him remembering me when he had to give up bees partly due to an allergy developed to stings but mostly because he was emigrating to New Zealand. He had turned up with a hive and I had absolutely no idea it was coming. Honestly Mick, I didn’t. Mick has never ever believed me about this, thinking it was part of a big plan. I was going to have bees anyway (I knew he wouldn’t go) but I’d hoped to do it ‘the attending a course and getting a trial hive’ way (as you do when you join a beekeepers club). Luckily these bees came with my encouraging mentor, Chris, not only a thoughtful beekeeper but someone who shares my taste in music – anyone for a bit of prog rock? This year though I thought perhaps I really must learn to do this all on my own and signed up for a course with Huntingdonshire Beekeepers. I pleaded with Mick to come and eventually, if I swore to the fact he would never have to actually handle the bees, he said he would come. He found it absolutely fascinating when we looked at the colony and this week we did how the hive works. I’m hoping he will come for next week’s instalment, what to do with honey and how to produce wax. There is an exceptionally nice café at Hitchinbroke Country Park (follow the signs for the hospital in Huntingdon) and I buy him a toastie afterwards so maybe that has something to do with it. I do wish I had done this course first, it all makes much more sense now. And Mick? He still thinks the bee’s arrival was planned.
I also have poultry, hybrid hens and cross breds (where I haven’t found them sitting until they came back with chicks) and my beloved duckle who is one of four rescued ducks. They lay well too. My hens lay exceptionally well but I am careful to feed them correctly. The eggs are so yellow and the shells are all different colours and beautiful. I’ve always loved bowls of eggs, even as a child and I am inordinately proud of these birds. In the Juneissue we have an article about how to cope with feeding as the price of poultry food soars in line with the wheat price – don’t miss it! Kitchen scraps simply won’t do, hens need a balanced diet to lay to their best. Some of mine are completely free range from when I let them out in the morning while the hybrids are allowed out after lunch when they have eaten their balanced ration and the Old English Game bantams are allowed out of their huge pen (Mick has built the Snowdon Aviary in our yard) in the afternoon – if they promise to be good and not jump on everything, dig up everything and constantly get into the house if they can.
The ponies have always been part of my life and I have welsh cobs and exmoors since my lovely arab died last year aged 30. She’d been my friend for 29 and a bit years, longer than any relationship and most friendships. She’d seen me through my early twenties, my career choice, boyfriends, moving, marriage and divorce and it is still hard to think she is not coming back. I luckily have Jade who I have known but not owned all the time, since she was 4 and she is now 16. She’s a beautiful black welsh cob who has won loads of prizes but I love her because she is such a gentle yet strong person. I have an Exmoor Stallion, Odin, who is 23, who I have had for 19 years. He is one of nature’s real gentlemen. I used to jump him and I was terrified but he always looked after me and did well. He won a lot as well when he was younger and used to love going out in the trailer. We have some wonderful memories, riding in front of Windsor Castle, winning a major championship, galloping across the fen pretending to be Boudicia.
I’m waiting for Shelley (Knightoncoombe Dingy Shell) to foal, even as I write this. She is due Saturday and last year I found her foal born dead. It was one of the most upsetting things that has ever happened to me and it still makes me cry. This year, as well as regular checks, we have Shelley cam in the bedroom. Mick has put a camera in her stable and I can see her all night long without disturbing her. I am so anxious at the moment I can’t convey to you how much.
Finally I wanted to reflect on being ill. Last week I had the worst bronchitis I have had for ages. It came from out of the blue and hit me really hard. Amazingly Mick was home as I had a hospital appointment (I have arterial fibrillation – any other smallholders out there with this condition?) because for once in my life I really couldn’t get out of bed.
I never want to feel that ill again. I still feel rough (not great as we go to print at the weekend) but at least I can more or less breath and just about speak though still croaky and better still, manage to muck out the ponies and look after the poultry. I think the better weather is helping or maybe it is the ‘industrial strength’ antibiotics (my Doctor’s words not mine!) that I am now taking. But my heart goes out to anyone who has more stock than me and/or is on their own having to cope while feeling this appalling. That’s when you really need good friends. My good friend dropped round with some salmon, French bread and flowers and mucked out the ponies for me tonight. She knows who she is!
If anyone wants to comment on what I’ve said or ask me questions about my smallholding, just post them on the blog. I haven’t mentioned my garden yet or my obsession with bird feeding – one of my greatest pleasures.