Snow warning

We had an yellow snow warning, then we were upgraded to an amber snow warning, I always thought snow was white - ah ha!  I now know what the forecasters were on about........................

 

Amber snow! or is it yellow? pretty rare stuff I doubt coz most places you look it has a whiteish hue about it.

Aye! It snowed, quite a change from Thursday

 

Thursday saw the covering of snow we'd had melting away nicely, okay, this isn't exactly a picture of snow, the hard frosts we'd experienced made the stuff run off roofs and duly freeze, now the freezing was dripping (yes you're right, it took me ages to catch that drip in mid air, must have nowt better to do!) 

So, that was Thursday. Friday saw hay being frantically laid out for sheep, Friday afternoon saw sheep being hounded in to lower ground, where the hay was laid out for them, ready for the onslaught, and it came, right on cue, this was the yellow snow we'd been warned about. It wasn't until today, Monday, that the amber stuff appeared, again right on cue. The weekend had seen as much feed put out for sheep as possible before the onslaught of wind and snow hit them and had them blocked out from the comfort of feed and security.

This picture may not exactly show signs of comfort and security but at least if they should get happed with snow in these driving winds I'll know where to find them.

 

As for old Glen, so long as his lugs are sticking up I'll be able to find him an' all!

Thought you'd all enjoy this link, showing the highs of farming, a cheery compilation http://youtu.be/iWdFTa7UNPs

The wanderer returns

It's tup time, so the wanderer would of course be a sheep - well? wouldn't it? After all, sheep are wandering with a mission at the moment, either ewes looking for a fella or the tup looking for a floosie. We are just getting into second time over on the hill tupping front and I would imagine all shepherds have their fingers crossed that there won't be too many ewes a wandering; looking for a fella to fulfill their desires. Now the boys ought to be wandering, desperate to find that elusive ewe who slipped the net first time over and desires the company of an amorous male. Time will tell just how the boys faired first time around.

You may have noticed Shep has been missing for a spell, I did make the return trip from Dalmally away back when (so long ago I can barely recollect) and since then there has been much to do and coupled with the fact there was no broadband connection for a fair duration this blog has found itself put on the back burner so to speak. Hopefully some normality may return, I once again have contact with the outside world which is a godsend as the weather has been somewhat arctic of late, making travelling and visiting a no go for those of us who are wusses on the roads, unless they are perfectly dry and the sun is shining!

Shep hasn't had time to partake in any winter sports, it's fair to say that a fear of 'getting hurt' would probably ensure I wouldn't wish to partake in any winter sports other than making a snowman, but regardless, there hasn't been time for such frivolities to date. I did manage a little bit of sledging however..........

Tup harnesses - awful things! A contraption worn by the tup (sire), strapped around his belly and shoulders to keep a coloured crayon in place on his brisket. Why? Well, when he jumps up onto a ewe he very kindly leaves a crayon mark behind to confirm he served her ( it is hoped that is what it confirms, in reality it only tells you he jumped up onto her back).

It is fair to say that over the years Shep has had little to do with tup harnesses, hill tups rarely get strapped up, it seems to be some form of in - bye bondage, the hill lads aren't into that fancy stuff!

It was necessary this tup time for Shep to strap a suffolk tup into his breeding attire, now that in itself was a challenge, working out where all the straps went around his huge bulk. He wasn't even a friendly beast, and had me dancing around the pen as some form of shepherd baiting took place, his head was definitely harder than my legs. It was a relief to get him backed into a corner and tied around the neck to a rail in the pens, my legs might get to see another day and not find themselves snapped like matchsticks.

Unfortunately, squashed up to the railings in the sheep pens meant only one side of him was free to work on at a time, so the battle ensued to get tup harness contraption untangled and re tangled around this heavyweight chap. There was much chuntering and head scratching went on I can assure you and after a fair duration I concluded that all lose ends were tied up and the crayon was in the correct place, right between his front legs sitting on his brisket - success!

It was a huge relief to release the chap to a field full of ewes and let him get on with the job in hand.

Two days later I noticed something was amiss, a ewe that had been 'served' seemed to have a crayon mark on her hip rather than on her rump and sure enough good old friendly suffolk tup was tracked down and it was noticed he was now wearing his crayon under his nearside lisk (okay, simple terms - left hand arm pit!). More head scratching ensued, from Shep, not the tup. How on earth did that happen? Pretty obvious really, my incompetence at dressing the beast had caught me out - humph!

I was going to have to get a hold of the fella and redress the situation. Memories of shepherd baiting flashed back in an instance, this fella really didn't appreciate the feminine touch the first time, he probably wasn't gonna walk up to me in the field and ask for assistance was he? The sheep pens were a fair old distance away, the roads were solid ice with a  covering of snow and any vehicles brave enough to face the treacherous conditions wouldn't be happy to find a shepherd and flock of sheep on the road would they?

Not to worry, I'm sure greed would get the better of the fella, a bag of cake would surely take his attention long enough for me to be able to get a hold and so I duly returned with a bag of cake (sheep feed). The ewes soon came forward and started guzzling the pile I laid on the snowy frosty ground, the tup? well of course, he held back, suspicious, memories of being tied up in the sheep pens fresh in his mind. - Humph!

More piles of sheep feed laid out, in a tight circle, more ewes guzzling............... eventually he couldn't help himself and did indeed come forward and joined in with the feeding frenzy, unfortunately every time I felt I was slowly closing in with bag in hand as a decoy he backed off, neither of us really wishing to get to close to one another.

I concluded I was going to have to spring into action, attempt my infamous rugby (sheep) tackle and hold on for grim death until he succumbed under my enormous weight - easy!

More little piles of cake were laid out in an increasingly smaller circle, yet more ewes guzzled and finally he dropped his head in amongst the melee, I pounced, fingers locked around the harness which was strapped around his chest and off we went. I tried desperately to throw all my weight upon him and wished instantly that I'd had enough common sense to have started this daring ambush on the level, not the steep as he careered down hill, his 100kg bulk gaining speed with every stride with me skidding along beside him on my belly, side, back,...... bouncing off every frozen bumpy bit hidden under the covering of snow that the field seemed to possess (why is it fields look flat and smooth?), it seemed every angular bit of my body was managing to clatter against something frozen and hard as I trailed along at increasing speed and totally out of control of the situation.

I dare say teeth were clenched, I know there were no swear words uttered, it took me all my time to get my breath, steely determination set in as we neared the roadside, fortunately the roads were very poor for driving upon so hopefully no one would be trundling by, but I could still feel my pride hurting. Time to take control, I managed to swing my legs past his and he cowped (fell) over, there was a huge feeling of relief, elation and success which quickly evaporated and was replaced with a deep feeling of despair as I found myself lying there and with the tup up on his feet and his heels kicking up dust (snow) as he disappeared into the distance, harness flapping around his lugs (ears). The strap had snapped, pulled out of my hands and left me quite literally downtrodden - so much for sledging!

Moral of the story? The lazy mans way isn't always the easiest........... he found himself gathered up, out onto the roads and down to the sheep pens, tied to the rails and sorted. He's never come forward for the cake bag since!

A week in February

We're into the middle of February already................ Eek! Where is the time going? Shep hasn't been idling, at least not this past week. Here follows a photographic diary of the past week.

It started by gathering some sheep ready for scanning the following day. They were gathered a day early and held close to the sheep pens as the weather forecast was threatening snow, as indeed it was doing as Moss turned these sheep and headed them closer to home. That was last Saturday.

Sunday saw Shep assisting at a couple of scannings.

The first scanning of the day was helping a friend out,someone who has just taken the step up from shepherd to farmer. The first time for them to scan their own sheep and good results were the order of the day. The scan man hid in his tent, couldn't blame him, a covering of snow and -8 recorded first thing had us all wishing we could climb in there with him.

The weather conditions found Moss and I jumping in with the scan man, hitching a lift to the second job, the sheep I'd brought closer to home the day previous. The farmer later reunited me with my motor when scanning and dosing had been completed, by which time the treacherous road conditions had given and car and I had an uneventful journey home.

There was little snow of mention but frost held out all week. Night temperatures varied from -10 to as warm as -2 over the duration of the week, far more fortunate than those further south whom experienced -16, Brrr... bet that was cold!

I had a few days in the company of these Galloway cows earlier in the week, I see quite a bit of them at the moment, they have been receiving a bite of cake (hard feed) and are keen to follow the bike around, as I was patching some fences in the vicinity where they live they seemed forever hopeful that they would receive more than one feed in the day. Intrigued every time the bike was moved to a different stretch of fence, was this a sign of more food??

Going by the circumference of this one it doesn't look like they need any more food, in all fairness to her these cattle are only a few weeks off calving so they probably have an excuse to look portly.

Then there was the moon, blimey! It wasn't half bright, t'was like driving into the sun in the dark. I was away out bye when I took this, a late finish with the fencing then a desire to find out what a police car had been up to saw me arriving home very late, and I may add none the wiser.

A dead end farm road in the middle of nowhere sees a police car on it, now my attempt to leave my job of fencing and hit the road before the police car returned failed and said car sailed past. Which I thought was a tad ill mannered. After all, out in the middle of no where on private property isn't the usual place to see the police, they are meant to be observant so surely ought to have seen me and quad, 2 dogs with 20 cattle following us heading towards the road. Well I thought they would have noticed but obviously they saw no reason to stop and have a crack and let me know what they were playing at.

Not to worry, thanks to the police car I had time to appreciate the beauty of the moon that night.

As the week went on this was a common sight.

There was ice everywhere.

Even the wettest of bike tracks appeared to be well frozen, this may look like puddles of water but in fact it is frozen solid, which made me decide to do a job I never relish. I had a list of possible jobs, the fencing was done for the time being, another on the list was to head out to the neighbours hill, that unfenced march between one farm and another meant sheep will have wandered over onto ground which they do not belong, as it was hard and frosty I decided to be a good bairn (child) and head out to send them back onto their own ground. I've often mentioned on these postings that I do not enjoy this particular task but it needs to be done. The neighbours ground is ungrazed heather, very rough, steep, undulating and just scary at times. However, I concluded that due to the hardness of the frost at least I wouldn't be able to bog the quad bike, I might get stuck by some other means but I couldn't possibly bog it. Could I?

How many swear words do you possess in your vocabulary?? Chances are I tried them all and added a few new ones to the list. How could I possibly bog the b****y bike??? What a prat!!

Bikes work by means of a thumb throttle, which means one hand has to be able to reach and use the throttle leaving only one arm to do the lifting and pushing. Well I lifted and pushed 'til I had no energy left to swear and still the b****y bike was stuck. I wasn't carrying the gizmo, that satellite tracking thingy, not that it would have helped as the batteries are done in it, and anyhow, it is for an emergency, not for a prattish act like this. Fortunately I had had sense to carry my mobile 'phone and eventually walked into an area which had reception.

Mobile 'phone reception is not a strong point in Tarset, you're more likely not to have reception than have it but there are odd pockets, one of which I walked upon. A weak signal tho' which cut me off twice. My first call went like this "Hi! just me here, are you busy? just wondered coz need help..."
Oh! that didn't go to well!
Second call went along the lines of " Will cut to the chase, am away out bye am stuck and need......"
Oh dear! I was starting to worry that the recipient of the calls might be beginning to worry.
Finally all was sorted and a quad was heading my way from away down the valley to pull me out of my predicament and as to "where will we find you" I replied that I would be walked away in by the time they arrived - but only just I may add, they either drove like a madman or else I dawdled.

My 'phone a friend did the job and bike was extricated, although not as easily as I had imagined, there was still a fair bit of lifting and grunting necessitated - now you would think I would learn wouldn't you?? We had a crack and I found out what the police had been up to, a new bobby on the beat had looked at a map and decided to acquaint himself with ground he didn't know, 'tis good to know but I still think he could have stopped and let me know that he was just being nosey, but there you go, who am I to question the manners of the police?

I never did succeed in heading out to that ground I never relish visiting, the day had flown by after all the excitement of rendering the bike immobile for a duration. The following day saw freezing rain, an unpleasant phenomena which saw Shep decide to baton the hatches down and knuckle down to some book work, the years accounts are at least now up to date, thanks to freezing rain.

The week was rounded off with a warm job, a job which will hopefully see us warm next winter too. The tail end of some hurricane in the summer kindly toppled this tree over, it won't be enough to keep the home fires burning all next winter, especially as it has two households to feed but it will be a help.

My job is that of mad axe woman, unfortunately the chainsaw had had a couple of days head start on me so for all my best endeavours I felt like I wasn't really getting anywhere fast. I ought to have been out gathering but due to the temperature lifting the weather was giving us hill fog making visibility too poor for gathering the hill sheep in, so mad axe woman it was.

A week in February, another week gone by. A week in which I saw many foxes, an ermine stoat, a very cold looking kestrel, many buzzards, ravens, and other birdy things including a pair of crossbills, a cropped and long distance shot of one which I will end this posting with.

Caterpillars in February?

Monday 5th February was a cold one. The wee bit of snow we'd had over the weekend could still be seen thanks to the frosts experienced during the nights. It was only a wee bit of snow though, nothing to get excited about. Driving with caution was the order of the day due to that f word again - Frost (what other f word were you thinking of?).

We had actually only had a minus of two degrees during the night, quite a warm one considering just a couple of days previous it had been -10. Was still a crispy day though.

Whilst out on the hill I spotted a hairy hubert, a name I have been brought up with for hairy caterpillars.

Quite a large hairy hubert it was, lying stretched out in the sunshine. It seemed strange to see a caterpillar on such a cold, frosty morning, away out on the hill. I couldn't help but disturb the beast, just to check it was indeed alive and not frozen to the spot.

I may add I got a bit of bracken stalk to poke it with, having been warned that these hairy caterpillars may 'sting' or cause an irritation to the skin, a fact I do not know whether true or false as I've never picked one up to find out, wiser to follow advice given years ago me thinks!

As seen by the above photo it was indeed alive, it very kindly curled up into a ball to confirm the fact to me. I then decided it would be kinder to leave it in peace.

I've been googling and have concluded this is the larva of the fox moth whose habitat tends to be moorland, especially heather and sphagnum moss ground. It is not unheard of to find them basking in the sun on February days. So there you have it, I disturbed a sunbathing caterpillar on a winters day! How unfortunate was that caterpillar? thousands of acres to choose from and it chose a spot I was passing, bet it felt it was having a bad hair day!

The Lazy Gather

A need to get some sheep in and treat them for lice. They were running on an enclosed piece of hill ground alongside cattle. The cattle are fed on silage, which is laid out on the ground for them each morning. The sheep can't help themselves when a free bite is on offer and they come forward to share the fodder with the cattle.

A lazy mans approach, but it was hoped all the sheep may have congregated with the cattle, if this was the case it wouldn't be necessary to bounce around the hill ground on the quad to gather everything in.

So it was then that old Glen and I cut some corners and collected this bunch of sheep from where they were sharing a bale of silage with the cows.

Glen soon encouraged the sheep to leave the tasty silage behind and do as they were told, gather up in a bunch and move where they were required to move to.

All was going well until we had this obstacle to pass through. Just a gateway, but the brakes were engaged, sheep did not want to move forward.

Poor old Glen found himself having to do some leg work as sheep tried to break back to whence they had come. Whichever side the dog ran to saw sheep trying to break away on the other side. He had his work cut out for a while.

Eventually one kindly soul decided to head through the gate, it only takes one, the others will soon follow.

Glen still acted as back stop, ensuring no sneaky creature got a chance to turn back.

The sheep were streaming away across the next field whilst the last few were tip toeing through the gateway.

The gateway in question. The reason the sheep were reluctant to go through it. A huge puddle across the width of the gateway which had also been frozen. The bike, on the journey out to get the sheep, had broken through the ice but the sheep were more concerned about getting there feet wet than anything else, they really don't like clarty gateways.

The next gateway was drier and sheep were willing to go through it. Upon reaching the sheep pens the sheep were counted. 212 was the number I arrived at and upon enquiring how many there ought to be I was told 212 - great news! It meant the lazy gather had been succesful, there were no sheep left out on the hill ground, all were accounted for. The ploy had worked and had saved a lot of time in the process.

A couple of hours in the pens and home they headed, far more enthusiastic to go through the clarty gateway this time, in main due to the fact that this direction was taking them home.

I shot forward to open the gate onto the hill, the one which had been closed to ensure the cattle didn't wander away in, whilst Glen quietly followed on, he had no hard work to do, these sheep were heading for home, knew where they were going, didn't need steering or encouraging just needed Glen to gently wander along behind them. He was happy in his work.