The Amazing Gentleman

You may recall the posting regarding the Hexham Blackfaced Tup Sale, I told you the day was rounded off nicely with a visit to an amazing gentleman, I also promised a posting on the event. Well, here it is..........

I have to go back in time. 2007 I think it may have been, or was it 2008?

A year or two back anyhow and Shep was asked to take some photos. Record shots I guess you could call them, the sorts of pictures I don't usually take - photos of people. There was a stick dresser mentioned. An elderly gent who was going to be retiring from showing his dressed sticks at the Bellingham Show on that particular year (whichever year that was!) Could I possibly go to his home and photograph him making a stick, followed up by him showing his sticks etc,?

For someone who doesn't manage to take photographs under pressure, someone who doesn't feel very comfortable photographing people I found myself in a situation which wasn't really me - but hey! There's nowt like a challenge y'know!

I rang the gentleman up, explained what I required and had a lovely crack over the 'phone with a complete stranger which resulted in an appointment to go and visit him.

A journey of about 20 miles saw me at the door of an old peoples bungalow, warmly greeted and invited in. I spent a thoroughly enjoyable hour or two in this gentlemans company, it was a real treat.

A man who told me he was 94 years old, was widowed, lived on his own, coped for himself and was still driving! He had converted the coal house into a stick dressing workshop which had seen a wall knocked through into his small kitchen so he didn't have to go outside. A tiny space where taking photos proved a challenge, the variety of angles really weren't very variable but fortunately I did succeed in getting a half decent shot.

Business over and a cup of tea was offered and duly made for me, we then sat down around the fire and the crack flowed. I do believe he told me he was the oldest member of the stick dressers association (quite believable), had taken stick dressing up as an occupation very late in life, after his wife died, as something to fill in his time.

Age was getting the better of him, he struggled to stand for long durations and was pained with arthritis and so he intended to bow out of the stick dressing circles and concentrate on painting instead. We talked for a long time, I found his life history fascinating, his warmth and kindness shone through, he was just a treat to be in the company of. He was interested in my real job, once he realised that photography was not an occupation. Having worked on farms for a fair duration of his working life we found we had much in common.

The conversation came around to Cheviots (what a suprise!) and eventually I asked him if he'd ever dressed a Cheviot tups horn.

 

The gent was unaware that Cheviots had horns, he had dressed Blackfaced tups horns and Swaledales and of course the darker buffalo horns but had never realised you could get a Cheviots horn and would quite like to try one before he hung up his tools for good. I said I would see what I could do on that front and finally we parted company. I had thoroughly enjoyed my visit to this complete stranger, it was way beyond my expectations.

On returning home I was full of admiration for the gentleman I had spent an hour or two in the company of, relaying all aspects of the meeting to the other half I found I was getting my leg pulled. I have always got on very well with older men and am often told I 'collect' them, the other half just couldn't help but leg pull about my latest acquisition!

Eventually I tracked down a horn, a stick dresser over the border very kindly gave me a good sized Cheviot tups horn to give to the gent.

The show that year was cancelled due to bad weather, the gent didn't get to exhibit his sticks for the last time at Bellingham Show, I didn't get the opportunity to photograph him setting up his exhibits, or winning prizes, I also didn't get the opportunity to give him the horn I had acquired.

The horn rattled around in my car for a year, forgotten about for most of that duration. I convinced myself that the gent had probably died and a year on handed the horn back to the kindly soul who had originally given it to me. I felt a bit rotten about the whole thing, kinda making a promise and not keeping it, I don't know why I'd decided the gent was no longer around but it was set in my head that indeed he had passed away and would never have the chance to make a stick from a Cheviot horn.

Then one day the person who had initially asked me to take the original photos mentioned the gent and informed me that he was indeed still alive and well. Oh my god!

I drove over the border, knocked on the door of the person who had originally given me the horn which I had returned a year later and enquired whether or not they still had it. Horn in hand I then drove back down over the border and kept going until I arrived on the gents doorstep. I knocked and waited.

There was some confusion, he could recall me but told me he no longer made sticks but was teaching someone the craft. Finally I told him to take the horn, he could either come out of retirement or enjoy watching his apprentice make it into a stick.

A week later I received a 'phone call, 'twas my elderly gent, he thanked me profusely and told me that he had decided to dress the horn himself. A fair old crack ensued over the 'phone and I wished him well and hoped he'd enjoy the challenge.

Prior to the tup sale this year I received another 'phone call, again from the elderly gent, asking if I would call and see him, an appointment was made for the afternoon of the tup sale.

I was warmly greeted and again a cup of tea was offered, upon enquiring as to the age of the gent he informed me he would be 97 in a week or two - 97! Good grief! A man who had commenced his working life ploughing with horses, a man who was thrilled to realise that I too had worked with heavy horses although had never ploughed with them. He had moved on to tractors and even travelled by ship with a demonstrator tractor to Canada to do some ploughing - wow! A gent who had harvested the old fashioned way with a thresher and sheaves and humped 16 stone(100kgs) bags of corn up the granary steps, a job which he blamed for his aching body. A gent who had presented one of his sticks to HRH Prince Charles, a highlight of his career which came with photographic proof. A quite, unassuming and very humble individual, a pleasure to be in the company of.

He brought out the stick to show me, explained that due to the snow and frost over the past winter it had taken much longer than he had thought to make as it was too cold for him to work in his adapted coal shed. He went on to explain how grateful he was to have been given the opportunity to work with a Cheviots horn, it had given him so much pleasure.... and then........ he asked that I accept the stick as thanks for my kindness. My kindness? It had taken me years to get the horn to him, I'd even convinced myself the fella was dead!

My eyes were stinging as he insisted that I ought to have the last stick he would ever make. He even apologised for the heaviness of the head, strong for a hand as small as mine but a fault line was beginning to come through as he filed the horn down and had he gone any further he explained he would have gone into the soft and the stick would have been ruined. A fault that is not obvious until you begin working with the horn I was told.

 

 

I love the pink in the horn, fault or not I feel it gives the stick character.

And so it was then, after the tup sale I found myself sharing an enjoyable few hours with a gentleman who was closer to 100 than he was to 90. I found myself gobsmacked at his kindness and generosity, a man who had presented a stick to HRH Prince Charles had also presented one to me. A stick I shall cherish. I own many, they all have stories but this stick and it's story are extra special. Upon leaving a hand was offered to shake, I asked if he would mind receiving a hug instead, he did not decline the offer.

Falstone Show 2011

Aye, Falstone show has been and gone for another year. The weather was a worry with the show field only being cleared of it's crop of grass days prior to show date, the morning dawned chilly and overcast and many of us turned up donned in waterproofs. These were soon discarded as the morning improved and Falstone Show found the sun shone down with the sheltered aspect of the show field keeping the wind at bay. Weather wise it was a cracking day.

Falstone Show is always a cracking day, sunshine or not. A sociable event drawing everyone together and for an entrance fee of only £4 it has to be a bargain!

 

The North of England Blackface classes were fiercely contested, here some of the ewe lambs are being judged, being closely inspected and handled by the judge.

 

The judging was delayed for a short while whilst this gimmer was retrieved from the car park. Sheep can get themselves over excited at times, especially if it is their debut at a show and this gimmer was no exception clearing the show ring and heading for the far end of the field, however, she was tracked down and returned to the ring, with many bodies standing guard ready to pounce should she decide to try the sharp exit thing again.

 

The north country cheviot classes were well supported, having been reintroduced to the show last year there were more competitors on hand this year and the classes were strong.

 

The industrial tent was heaving with exhibits, from flowers,knitting,vegetables, booze, photos, artwork..... you name it, there seemed to be a class for it. Apparently entries throughout the show were 50% up on the year previous although it would have seemed less people went through the gate, the show field itself seemed quieter than last year.

 

I couldn't help but photograph these chocolate cakes, they didn't half look tempting.

 

As usual the stick dressers were out in force, hotly contesting the prizes.

 

This stick caught my eye, I have seen many fancy dressed sticks over the years, but never one dressed to represent a curlew, I'm sure you'll agree it is a work of art.

The show day for Shep was an odd one, there seemed little time to get around everything and yet it is a small compact show. I guess the fact we had to depart early didn't help matters and other commitments during the show day would eat away at the time we had.

So why did we have to leave early? Well, we had a concert to attend over towards the coast.

 

Finding ourselves in a field which Shep knows only too well, a field which the ewe hoggs from outbye winter in. Sheep were replaced by people, 1,000's of people at that, it was quite a daunting sight, but what a beautiful setting with Alnwick Castle (the Duke of Northumberlands stronghold) in the background.

 

10cc were the support act, not a band I know too well but they played well, very well in fact. They weren't the reason we were there however, the main act were yet to follow.

Had I been in a concert hall I dare say I would have been feeling claustrophobic, however being out in the fresh air I found myself getting closer and closer to the stage, shoulder to shoulder with strangers, people all around and no room to dance, other than on the spot. I noticed a glow on the faces of those around me, faces glowing orange. I looked skywards and the answer was there

 

the sun was setting and it was reflecting on the faces of those I had found myself in the company of. It was refreshing to know there was life out there, beyond the massing crowds there was something far more familiar to myself - a wide open space.

 

Finally they came on stage. Status Quo. The band we had come to see. Over the years I have been to very few concerts, prefering to enjoy the music 'in peace' rather than in the company of thousands of others. However, in 1986 I went to St James' Park to enjoy Queen in concert with Status Quo as the support group. What a night that was and I have to say 25 years on and Status Quo did not disapoint. It was well worth leaving the show early and standing surrounded by people for hours. I have to say it amused me that the majority of the crowd seemed to be of retirement age, but then the band members are in their 60's now so what could I expect? The end of the night once again saw me looking skywards

 

not shooting stars or meteors but fireworks, a finale that rounded the night of nicely and even better, as we were heading back through town towards the car the heavens opened, not only was the rain refreshing but it was so kind of it to hold off not only for show day but also for an open air concert.

Tools of the Trade

There are a number of items that a shepherd just could not do without. They are very much like your right hand. The stick being one of them. Often referred to as the shepherd's crook but around these parts known quite simply as the stick, or mebbes lambing stick.

In the days before quads, herding (shepherding) was done either on foot or pony. The stick was invaluable for getting a decent footing when covering rough ground, it helps balance you, gives you something to lean on when climbing uphill and something to steady yourself when coming down hill. I find it awkward and uncomfortable to walk on hill ground without a stick, it is such a help and you soon find you're accustomed to using one. Even when on the pony the stick would be carried as it is actually used for catching sheep, stuck in the ground it is ideal to tether the pony to should that be necessary.

The above is my old faithful, made from a hazel shank and a ewes horn, it is invaluable at lambing time for catching both ewes and lambs, the curved ewes horn head has enough width to enable it to wrap around a ewes neck for you to be able to catch a hold of her out in the open.

My stick is as light as a feather, comfortable in the hand and cut to a length that suits me, which is just above waist height. I have had the stick for so many years I can't rightly remember and only last year a shepherd who does stick dressing told me it looked worn and shabby and offered to sort it up, my reply was "don't mend something that isn't broken"

There are many types of stick available but I prefer the old fashioned, hand made job. Metal sticks are cold and often heavy, the ones made all of wood will straighten when they get wet, there are now fibre glass sticks which if I had to revert to using a manufactured stick this is what I would opt to use.

 

Above are the three things a shepherd ought always to carry in their pocket. Pocket knife, string (baler twine) and whistle, three things I couldn't do without. All are invaluable to every day life.

The knife: cuts strings on bales of hay. Will cut through wool as occasionally sheep can be tangled by their wool in either branches of trees or wire, hand shears aren't on hand but the good ol' knife will cut through the wool and release the beast. Paring feet, if foot shears aren't on hand the knife doubles up nicely for paring the loose or long hoof off the foot, also doubles up on my finger nails occasionally. Skinning lambs at lambing time - to use the skin off a dead lamb and place it on a live lamb enabling an adoption to take place. There will be many more uses, I take it so much for granted that I have a pocket knife and can use it for what ever is required that I don't really know what all these requisites are!

String: Baler twine from a small bale of hay or straw. Always have some in your pocket. Can tie a gate if the chain has broken. Repair a fence in a hurry. Tie a sheep up to prevent it from running away. A dead lamb can be towed along with a long length of string and the kindly ewe will follow until you can get her to a pen out on the hill. Useful dog leads or dog tethers. Will hold your trousers up. Again invaluable and a must have.

Whistle: Dog whistle with string attached to be worn around the neck, this keeps it safe, you can't swallow it and also when you spit it out of your mouth it doesn't fall to the ground and get lost. I holler (shout) at the dogs quite a bit and whistle with my lips even more but the strength of the whistle from this little gadget is amazing and the dogs can pick the sound up from a great distance, it saves you from being hoarse from shouting and the strength of my own whistling is not good enough to travel long distances ( I never learnt to whistle with my fingers). My dogs work best to the whistle and a quiet voice, all the hollering really does is give me a chance to vent my frustrations and occasionally back up the whistle when the dogs think they know best.

All of these are invaluable to a shepherd. There are two others which can't be bought, given or acquired, two which most are born with. Two senses - sight and sound. Your eyes and ears are a priceless commodity, the power of observation is absolutely vital to the job.

 

Last but not least - the most important tool of the trade for the shepherd - a dog.

 

Or in my case two dogs. Glen and Moss.

Hill shepherds can have many dogs, young dogs coming on and learning the ropes, older steadier dogs that know the job. If there is a lot of ground on the farm to cover, or if it is hard ground, there will be more dogs on the farm as it is unfair to work them into the ground, it is necessary to have a change of dogs on big days and busy times of the year.

My dogs are the most important tool I have. Without them my job would not be possible. They don't always get much mention on this blog but believe you me I would be well and truly lost without a useful sheep dog and quite a lot of the work I do as a contract shepherd is due to the fact that I have two working dogs, wide running hill dogs which are dependable (majority of the time) and basically help me to earn my living. Even the better half has come to accept that he plays second fiddle to the dogs, they are top of the list and are as dependable of me as I am of them.

Glen is the older dog, he's had a rough winter, being off form, but appears to have 'cheered' up at long last. Moss is the younger of the two and in many ways now 'top' dog (he'd definitely like to think he is!).

Two totally different entities, both with their strengths and weaknesses, neither of them perfect but perfect enough for me and those I work for. Not so much a tool, more a part of me, might right and left arms. Someday I'll introduce you to them.