Where there's life there's death.

'Tis a fact y'know, 'tis indeed very true. Where there's life there's death. It's the only fact we are sure of from the moment we are born - someday we will die. None of us know when, or how, but it will indeed come upon us. All the more reason to live life to the full I would say, we just never know when that double decker bus might be bearing down on us, to squash us flat...........

The summer has been a difficult one for stock, I have heard of many farmers who believe their losses may have been greater than usual, some with a virulent form of mastitis amongst their sheep, others losing sheep cowped/kessing (lying on their backs)due to heavy fleeces and wet weather, then there are those unexplained deaths, "she was just lying their like she was asleep". It can be frustrating, exasperating, heart wrenching even and that is without consideration of the financial loss. But it is generally accepted, as already said "where there's live ones there'll be dead ones". Livestock and dead stock go hand in hand.

A morbid subject mebbes, those working with stock are probably more hardened to the fact than city dwellers may be, but no matter how hardened you are there are times when even the hardiest can shed a tear.

There may be some out there wondering why this blog has been drying up somewhat, unlike the weather which pours out generously on an almost daily basis Shep has found inspiration and words resistant to flow of late. There have been personal issues to deal with, none less than the present one of my Mother.

Shep is finally spaened (weaned), let loose into the big wild world so to speak. As this posting is published I will be at the same crematorium I was at less than three months ago, in pretty much the same company as well. Yes, there will be tears, there will also be much laughter, catching up with folks, reminiscing and rejoicing.

It has been a long fortnight. My mother, whom asked so little of life (and gave so much), got her main wish, a wish to leave this world with her independence and dignity in tact. I was often told to "unplug the machines" or "shoot me" should she find herself in a debilitating state. I had no worries on that front as she went to bed one night and didn't awaken the next morning. A lady who had ailed little in her lifetime (a chest condition in recent years being little short of a growing inconvenience to her), had fulfilled her last wish; to leave this world peacefully, with dignity and still totally independent. What more could any of us ask for? How selfish for those of us left behind to wish it could have been any different.

So there you have it, my Mam is dead - snuffed it, curled her toes up, put it how you wish. Often upon finding a sheep just lying dead for no reason the wry humour kicks in and cause of death is pronounced as "lack of breath"! Guess Mam ran out of breath an' all. The coroner came up with a fancy name (they always do, but then they have degrees and some of us don't!) to us commoners, a massive brain bleed/stroke was the cause of lack of breath and boy! how fortunate is that, I could follow it up with "typical, Mam never did do things in half measures"! It is fair to say that myself, my brother, sister in law and Mams two grandchildren and many, many others do wish she'd given us a little bit of a warning, but then she always knew we liked surprises!

There are many happy memories to look back on, some very recent which is a blessing. Shep was a Daddy's girl it has to be said, Mam and I were probably too closely matched, both sharing strong personalities which it is fair to say did indeed clash in my youth.

With age comes wisdom and understanding (or so I've been told!), I have been able to look back to my youth and understand my mothers motives, her aspirations for her youngest and appreciate the fact that she helped forge me into the person I am today. As age crept upon both of us it drew us closer, the last conversation I had with my mother I felt as though I had been talking with a good friend, a true confidant - there is much to be said for that.

She had her hands full it is fair to say, but handled with firmness and kindness she saw her kids blossom and her grandchildren too. We all know how proud she was of us, even though her daughter didn't follow the path that had been hoped of her it was accepted graciously, "so long as your happy, that's all that matters".

A lady who didn't suffer fools gladly, abhorred any form of dishonesty and spoke it as it was - never minced her words. Never one to be in the limelight, always beavering in the background, door open to anyone "so long as they take me as I am". A lady who gave much and asked little in return, a friend to many and more than a friend to many more will be sadly missed by all of us. We all gain strength from having known her and knowing that her final wish was fulfilled.

Or was it? She was pretty much convinced that my brother and I would make a mess of her funeral arrangements (we were sternly told we couldn't organise her 80th last year "I know what you two are like" she said, as we stood before her with a wicked glint in our eyes), so much so she thought she ought to write down her wishes - well! Wishes have yet to be found............ Did she really get her final wish? Lets hope so, following the tearful bit at the crematorium with our family there is to be a memorial service to celebrate her life at her local chapel for all to enjoy, much jolly singing is the order of the day, gifts of wild daffodil bulbs for anyone who might attend ("flowers are for the living, they're no good to the dead"), hopefully we've done her proud, no doubt she'll somehow let us know if we haven't!

As the saying goes "To have loved and lost is better than not to have loved at all"

"Thank you for having been my Mam".

An update - August

The last update was in July http://blog.tarset.co.uk/2011/07/update.html I have had to re read it to remember what had gone on. Here we are in the beginning of September and I'm wondering where August went, in fact I'm actually wondering where the hell the summer went.

It has been a disappointing summer weather wise and the vein continued through August and into the beginning of September. It has to be said though that at the moment the weather is mild if not damp at times. There is still a lot of grass around although the hills are dying back, the greens are beginning to fade and the first signs of autumn are peeking through.

The heather has given us a tremendous show this year, with the pollen rising like dust when you travelled through it and the scent strong enough to cause you to sneeze. I recall one day when Moss, Kale and I had been gathering in the Rede for 5 hours, the dogs had been bounding around in the heather for most of that duration, you could see 'clouds' of pollen dust being left in their wake. Once home I let them out of the car and into the garden, I was surprised when Kale shook himself and a cloud of dust rose from his coat! It is unfortunate that there has not been enough decent days to truly enjoy the purple blanket in all it's glory but there have been windows, the odd decent day when the depth of purple has been accentuated by sunlight.

Lamb sales have commenced and the trade seems to be strong, breeding sheep are required and making good money at the moment, the fat trade has dropped slightly as more lambs come on the market but compared to a few years back it is definitely nothing to grumble about. Farmers might be smiling! Shep has yet to find the time to attend a mart (sheep sale) but I will one day.

As for Shep, well, busy as usual. I see in the last posting I had finished my clipping........ and then started again! The few days I gave to the other shearer weren't always plain sailing, much of it was outdoor shearing or for farmers who didn't have much room to house sheep, which made organisation difficult due to the fact the showers insisted on falling.

They were 'relaxed' days, after all, they weren't my jobs, I had no organising to do I just had to turn up on the farms on the allocated days. The final days clipping was on Sunday 28th August. That is late. The season up here runs through June and July and sometimes into the beginning of August. The end of August is definitely getting late. However, there is the train of thought that wool growth is determined by the length of day and temperature and those who clip late claim their sheep are wooled up the same as everyone elses once the winter gets here.

I have to say as August drew on I really didn't feel like clipping, the days were getting cooler and shorter and somehow it didn't feel right, it was the wrong season. I was dipping, spaening (weaning) then heading off for a days clipping - very peculiar!

The final tally? 3,993 was the total on the 28th August. Since then I have clipped 7 with hand shears that have come in at the spaening which were missed at the clipping gather and I know of at least one more sheep to clip when I head off shortly to dip. So the tally to date is a straight 4,000. Should I track down the elusive one on the dipping day I'll be able to say I clipped over 4,000!

It may seem like a huge number of sheep but believe you me it isn't, not by professional shearers standards anyhow and when I was younger and fitter I used to clip more than that. When you consider the duration I seem to have been on clipping it seems even less!! T'will do for me tho', may well be the last time I shear quite so many - who knows?

The final days clipping was a challenge. I usually rise to a challenge but have to say I felt I could have walked away from this one. Out door clipping, showers threatening all day and the wind was blowing a hoolly. The clipping trailer never needed loose wool brushing off it, in fact the person wrapping had to be quick to grab the fleece before it too blew off the trailer. I don't think I have ever clipped with a hat on before, the T shirt never saw daylight although I did get my coat off eventually,I still had a further three layers on though. Cheviots were the order of the day. Yes I know, I like cheviots, but they are south country cheviots, these were cheviot crosses and north country cheviots. The north country cheviot being the bigger bruisier cousin of the southy. The clipping trailer was set up outside the sheep pens, once off the trailer the sheep had a 100 acres to disappear on, there was little room for mistakes!

There were a couple of dodgy moments. A north country cheviot tup caused some consternation. A big white, fat, woolly, heavy beast he was, whom I struggled with and eventually got tipped out of the race, just as his backside hit the deck he sprung to his feet with me hanging on for grim death. My technique was anything but professional but I have to say not a swear word passed my lips, due to the fact all breath needed conserving to hang on to the beast! I was still dancing around on the spot doing a poor attempt at being in control and hoping to god neither of us fell off the trailer, or if we did hopefully it was him and not me when the other shearer came to the rescue. Having finished his sheep, which he was clipping alongside of me, he came across and said "Here, I'll clip that for you" my dogged determination left me in a flash and I never once considered disagreeing, a huge feeling of relief overcame me as I passed my unruly charge over to a man 20 years my senior and without even a tinge of guilt! Out of the five tups to clip that day I only managed one! One was plenty!

I rang home at lunch time. Knowing the other half was away out working I left a message on the answerphone, hoping he would return home before myself and asking for the fire to be lit and stoked up with coal, damper on and water getting heated. All I could think of was a long hot soak in the bath, clipping in the cold isn't good for you, clipping with a hat on and top coat isn't good for you. There were times the windchill hit my hands and I wondered if I was holding on to the handpiece or not! It's times like this when you wish you had an immersion heater, when you know you could walk in the house and find the water was hot. Fortunately he did return before I did and the water was boiling in the hot tank enabling me to enjoy my soak and unstiffen my chilled body.

There is nothing worse than finishing the clipping on a low. I was so pleased to be finished and could easily have chucked the clipping machine away, however, it is relatively new and worth a fair bit of money so that would be unwise! Not only that but I do really enjoy clipping, t'was just one of those days and the memory will be in the past when I hang the machine up again next June and set off on another clipping season.

August saw the clipping over for another year, Falstone and Bellingham shows over for another year, sheep spaened (weaned) once again for another year and finally August itself over again for another year. Where does the time go? The nights are really beginning to cut in, dark by 8.30pm now, although still light at 6am which ain't too bad. The beauty of autumn will soon be upon us with winter following -short days and time to recuperate - with the added bonus of spring hot on its heels!

Lambs away.

I mentioned the wagon was due in, away out bye, to lift the fat lambs and take them direct to slaughter - much work was to be done to get everything ready before the wagon pulled up in the yard. The weather broke, sunshine gave way to rain, sheep were saturated and working conditions were less than perfect. That's life!

The conditions were really quite uncomfortable, it pissed down, no polite way to describe it really. Rain ran down my face, off my nose and chin end, finally ending up running down my neck and getting soaked up by clothing below - not the best, except....... it was mild which I'm sure was a help, steaming below waterproof gear there was no doubt about it I felt warm!

The shepherd from out bye and myself split up this particular morning. He shepherds a huge patch of ground which possesses two sets of sheep pens, the ones at the home farm he worked in all morning with his helper and the ones two miles further down the road I worked in all morning, again with assistance. We were both doing similar tasks.

Each field of sheep was gathered in. At my end every lamb other than a keeping ewe lamb was shed off along with the old ewes which are getting drafted from the flock. Those which remained were set back out to the hill ground where they belong before gathering the next field in. The wagon wasn't due 'til 2pm so there was little panic, allowing a minute or two to shelter in the hay shed away from the rain.

Finally the pens I was working in were full of lambs and draft ewes which were to be walked the two miles down the track to the 'home' farm.

Reminiscent of the days of the drovers (which believe you me I can't remember). Drove roads are to be found all over the borders, roads which led to auctions or railway stations. Men on foot or horseback would drive sheep and cattle for miles and miles, often needing to stop overnight somewhere before resuming their journey the following day. Once upon a time all stock was moved in this manner.

The above photo shows the lambs and old ewes being driven a couple of miles, no shank's pony for the 'drover' though just a modern day quad bike. Lambs are notoriously difficult to drive when fresh spaened, they have no adult sheep to lead the way and are capable of panicking and running in all directions. Good dogs are essential to keep them together in a flock and control them. This drive was made easier by the fact the old ewes were with the lambs, some 'sensible' sheep to lead the way and respect the dogs.

The good news was we weren't the only ones to get a good soaking, the weather had been no better two miles down the road!

There were in actual fact one or two sunny blinks, soggy jackets were discarded for a short while. Soon all became apparent as the muggy, clammy, sticky weather and it's horrendously heavy rain showers were joined by flashes of lightening and brattles of thunder - what a surprise!!

Eventually all the lambs destined for the wagon were tagged and ready and waiting - all 346 of them, they were run into a shed in an attempt to prevent them from getting any wetter whilst for us dinner was the order of the day.

Draft ewes had their udders and teeth checked, were dosed and sent to respective fields. Store lambs were also dosed and sent into a good grassy field where they ought to improve and freshen up. All this was done and still the wagon hadn't arrived. Flashes of lightening had had me jumping on occasions (I really ought not to have watched a documentary on the TV about lightening strikes!!), once over I concluded it was not wise to be hanging on to the metal chain which Kale was attached to and I wondered if the rubber tyres of the bike would actually save me any - I obviously had too much time on my hands!! I found out at a later date how fortunate we had been, a neighbour just over the hill top had lost two cows which had been struck by lightening. Nature can be harsh at times.

Finally the wagon appeared over the horizon and it was 'all hands on deck'

The lambs are run onto the wagon in small numbers, the huntaway dog is a useful addition to help load the wagon. Huntaways bark on command and believe you me if one of those was chasing up my backside barking I too would be running up the ramp into the wagon!

A four storey articulated wagon was needed to house all the lambs. The lambs are run onto the wagon in small numbers and shut off in compartments within the wagon. This ensures that each lamb has plenty of room around them, plenty of air and there is no fear of them squashing or smothering one another, they have sufficient room to stand or lie down comfortably and find themselves bedded on sawdust so won't have to lie in the slutter that could be made with all the muck and urine that passes through them. A very comfortable journey!

Finally the wagon is loaded, movement licences are handed over and the lambs are ready to depart. A 2-3 hour journey will see them reach their destination and then they will be history as they say.

Now before you all cringe and ooh and aah, bear in mind that these lambs have had a wonderful existence. Living in a truly beautiful part of the British Isles, they've had a totally stress free life and breathed some of the purest air there is to be found, they have been loaded onto a state of the art wagon and will have a comfortable journey. What more could they possibly ask for?

The beauty of our countryside is due to the livestock which graze it. Head into Scotland and view the unkempt hills to be found in some areas - a stark reminder of what will happen if no sheep are to graze our hills.

Selling sheep for meat is also a necessity , they are what pay the bills, keep the shepherd out bye in a job and myself too. Not only that, but it is some of the tastiest meat you could wish to eat, being naturally fed on heather and herbs it really does bring out the flavour of the area from which they were reared.

Heatwave in Tarset

I do recall mentioning the fact that Tarset was experiencing a heatwave, in many ways summer had returned even though there was no doubt we were really heading into autumn.

The heatwave turned out to be a mini heatwave, although greatly appreciated for the time it lasted.

The week of the heatwave saw Shep helping the shepherd away out bye to gather his hill ewes and get the fat lambs sorted, store lambs spaened (weaned) and keeping ewe lambs retained. Misty mornings caused a little grief as gathering early is the key to success but heading out to the hill tops in a thick mist is unlikely to result in a good gather.

There was an added complication, a different sort of heat. A bitch on heat!! The shepherd out bye runs bitches whereas I always have dogs. My abilities to steer Moss were on occasion a tad erratic as his mind often seemed to be elsewhere, his nose and hormones taking him in a different direction to my intended route! Once sheep were gathered in a heap ready to be driven to the pens it often paid for one of us to hold back in a bid to ensure 'puppy making' didn't happen!!

Friday 3rd September was the foggiest of the lot, resulting in not heading to the hill until twenty to ten in the morning. Usually sheep would be penned and breakfast enjoyed by this late hour of the day, but not this particular morning as we headed out in the coolness of the dwindling mist.

Once the mist burnt off completely the temperature rose dramatically, sheep had been determined to head 'out' as opposed to 'in' due in main to the lateness of attempting to gather. Dogs had had to do a lot of leg work to encourage the blighters to turn around and head in the direction intended and the temperature kept rising....

It was close to midday when the pen gates were closed on the sheep and they were held secure ready for the work to commence. The back of my neck was feeling the burning rays of the sun and the dogs were heading for any wet holes they could find to wallow and cool off.

There was pressure on to get these sheep gathered and sorted as a wagon was booked in a day or two to take all the fat lambs away and off to the slaughter house - a deadline had to be met. I recall last year having problems with the weather also, slightly different problems, ones which involved a great deal of rain as covered in last years posting - http://blog.tarset.co.uk/2009/09/mad-dogs-and-englishmen.html


It was a pleasure to be able to go around all day wearing boots instead of the customary wellies, vest or t-shirt rather than soggy top coats. Sheep also look their best in good weather, when dry of their skins they are fluffed up and bloomy looking - pleasing to the eye.

All was looking well. Everyday which we'd allocated for the job was needed to get all the sheep sorted and lambs drawn. The result being that on the final evening everything was successfully gathered, ewes and lambs were held in fields ready for the following day when each field would be individually gathered, fat lambs would be run off their mothers, tagged and left waiting for the wagon to arrive. Store lambs would also be run off, dosed and put onto fresh ground. Draft(old) ewes too would find themselves shed off, dosed and kept in-bye whilst all the regular ages of sheep and keeping ewe lambs would be returned to their hill ground. All this to be done before the wagon pulled into the yard in the afternoon - nae bother, extra staff on hand and it would be done!

The wind rose that night, branches came down, the rowan berries which to date the starlings still had not raided came off the tree in handfuls. We had a gale, followed by rain. The following day was a wet one. Lambs looked nowhere near as good as they had days previous, wet and bedraggled they were but the job went on and the deadline was met.

Autumn has arrived

I don't know that I have ever seen such a crop of Rowan berries on the tree at our cottage, they appear to be hanging like grapes and to date the starlings haven't turned up to strip the branches of their glory. The berries are a sure sign that autumn is heading our way.

There are fungi a plenty. Interestingly enough the edible mushroom appeared very early in the season, finding itself gathered from the pasture ground and into the frying pan in late July, probably due to the wet/damp weather we were experiencing at the time, it has cropped well and is still to be found and enjoyed.

The heather is coming into it's own, a tremendous show of purple bloom to be appreciated on the hill tops throughout the area.

At the present moment Tarset is enjoying a mini summer, a heatwave even, much appreciated by all after the previous weeks of inclement weather. The heather is taking advantage of this as are numerous bees and butterflies. The peacock butterfly is to be seen all over the hill ground at the moment.

The weather is so good that the last fields of silage are being picked up. Some is making into very good hay (hay is dried grass whereas silage is damp grass). Bent (strong hill grasses) out on the hills is even being cut and baled up. Bent hay is a good feed and often overlooked in modern times, it was pretty usual in a good spell such as this to cut the hill grass and bale it up then lead it to the hay huts situated out on the hill at each cut of sheep, this enabled the sheep to have fodder during the harsh winter months.

Shep finished clipping on 18th August with a final tally of over 3,250, it was rounded down rather than up. Sheep were flying clipping by this time of the season and it was a pleasure to finish on a 'high' and exactly three months to the date from when the first sheep of the season was shorn.

Much time has been spent dipping, gathering, spaening, dressing lambs during and since the last sheep was shorn. Someday I'll cover some of these jobs on this blog.

So, it sounds as though I'm talking about summer - silage, hay, clipping....... and yet I'm claiming that Autumn has arrived. Well to start with the days are drawing in, light at 6am, dark at 9pm. There have been one or two night frosts. The brackens are turning (dying off). We are getting into the sheep sale season. Lambs are being spaened (weaned) off their mothers. All in all the signs are there, there is no getting away from the fact that the autumn season is arriving - after all, it is September!

I'll leave you to dwell on the fact that the summer is really officially over whilst you peruse these two shots of Scabious, whether budding or in bloom it is a truly beautiful piece of natures architecture.

Spaening

What on earth does Spaening mean? Weaning - quite simple really if you know. Apparently in Donegal it is called 'snedding' and who knows what it may be called elsewhere. Here in the Borders we call it spaening. Taking the lambs off their mothers.

Out on the hill replacement ewe lambs need to be kept as the ewes are drafted off the hill at 5 or 6 years old and a fresh age of sheep is needed to take their place. Every year a set amount of keeping (replacement) ewe lambs are chosen off each cut (heft) and returned back to the hill with their mothers.

At this stage they become Ewe Hoggs, no longer ewe lambs, they have matured overnight to become hoggs.

The number of ewe hoggs retained on each cut of the hill depends on the number of ewes which runs out there but is usually around about a fifth of that number, therefore, if you have 100 ewes you'd keep 20 ewe hoggs and hope to draft off 20 old ewes (draft ewes), mind that is wishful thinking, expecting to draft off the number that were originally kept 5 or 6 years ago, think I've told you before - sheep like to die. There's also the bad doers - ones that don't thrive right for what ever reason - they often get drafted out earlier in their lives and sold whilst they're worth a penny or two, rather than waiting for the inevitable and having them die and you having the cost of paying the dead cart to shift them.

Now you might think my mathematics is a tad naff and believe you me it is not a strong point of mine. If you have 100 ewes and sell 20 that leaves 80 (well done Shep), then you add 20 hoggs but a hogg isn't an adult sheep so how do you get back up to 100? Ah ha! Good question.

Last years hoggs got clipped in the early summer (read the hogg clipping article), they then became gimmers - again, maturing overnight (very clever!). A gimmer will go to the tup for the first time this back end, as an adult sheep. Therefore, your 20 clipped hoggs (gimmers) make up the deficit in the ewe count - does that make sense? Sorry if it doesn't but I know what I mean!!

Anyhow, like I said the ewe hoggs get kept, the best of the bunch get chosen to remain on the hill and be the future of the breeding flock. They are set back out to the hill with their mothers who will spaen (wean) her lambs naturally.

The ewe hoggs learn how to live out on the hill and where their rakes on the hill are off their mothers. They are hefted sheep and have learnt over generations where to graze and where they belong. A problem which was encountered after the 2001 foot and mouth outbreak as farms were devoid of livestock and shepherds had to use all their knowledge and hours, days, months, years of hard work to re - heft sheep out on the hill ground, sheep that had been bought in from other farms and knew nothing about where they had come to live and the unseen boundaries they were not meant to cross.

The remaining lamb crop is spaened, some are sold direct off their mothers, others are kept to be fattened or sold at breeding or store sales. The lambs are generally put onto the fogs - yikes! What's a FOG?

A fog (or foggage) is the fresh growth in the hay fields. Once the hay fields have been harvested they are shut down and the fresh grass is allowed to grow to feed the lambs through the back end. Spaening in Tarset is behind schedule as some farmers struggled to get their hay and silage crops (in fact there are still some fields to get) and so the fogs haven't grown and there has been nothing to spaen lambs onto. The traditional time for spaening hill lambs around here was the week between Falstone and Bellingham Show, the last week in August. Here we are into September and there are some spaened and some not, many trying to sell direct off the ewes as hungry mouths can soon strip poor fogs bare.