Premature celebrations

Thursday 16th August was the day, one Shep had been looking forward to for quite some while- the last days clipping! Outdoor clipping no less, the night previous had been a wet one, now there's a surprise! but the morning blew out and by 11a.m sheep were dry and clipping commenced. There was a canny air (wind) and sunshine, all seemed well on the home front, we even stopped for lunch, opening our bait (sandwich) boxes to see what goodies were hiding there, quite a relaxed last days clipping it seemed.

Then it rained.

Now Shep ain't gonna give in that easily, although I did raise my head and noted that the skies were black and foreboding away across the valley, they were definitely having something of a downpour. Time to try and clip faster I thought as I felt spots of wet stuff landing om my back.

A few more woolly bodies were clipped, the spots of rain continued to land cool and wet on my back but sheep weren't getting too wet. Once again I looked up and away across the valley to see the downpour was moving, it seemed to be travelling in an arc around us. I couldn't help but grin to myself - the last days clipping and the weather was still being it's usual un co-operative self, but not to worry, the numbers of sheep to clip were getting down and nothing was gonna stop Shep in her quest to hang up the machine for the year.

I did consider stopping and donning waterproofs as the spots started to land heavier upon my back, but then I would just end up hot and sweaty so really I would be no better off than being wet with rain, anyhow, it would also waste time and after all there weren't many left to clip now. Fortunately clipping off a battery machine rigged up to my car battery meant I wasn't going to fear being electrocuted so all was well really.

We were fortunate, the rain, which I believe was indeed heavy, did continue to arc around us, we were just getting the few stray drops on the outside edge, by the time the sheep were all bared off and clipped out the rain had ceased, sun had come out and you couldn't help wonder what all the hassle had been about. So bloody typical though of this years clipping season, but hey! it was over for another year - time to celebrate!

Courtesy of a local artist who had pitched up for the duration to do arty things farmer and myself found ourselves being invited for a quick pint down the pub. Now farmer was acting slightly more conscientious than I was as I was quick to take up the offer, however, it took little to encourage him to come and join us.

So, down the pub we went, mid afternoon on a Thursday we found ourselves sitting outside enjoying a pint and watching the world go by whilst soaking up the sunshine, a slight give away to the fact we weren't tourists would have been our dress code, smell and unkempt appearance as there had been no time to wash and change. My logic is there are plenty who go out for a drink after work donned in their suits, don't see why we should be any different covered in sheep shit.

Glasses were raised to the succesful conclusion of the shearing season and not before time. Fraught doesn't seem to have had a look in this year, it is fair to say it has been the most difficult season to organise in my living memory, but hey! we got through it, finished far later than ought to have done but finished was the important issue this day.

It was something of a bummer when I received a 'phone call the following day to see how things were going from a farmer I work for and who's son clips their sheep. Of course I couldn't help but relay the good news that at long last, after what could only be described as a marathon I had eventually got the clipping over for another year................

"That's good, we've still got 700 to do, could you give us a hand?" was the reply.

It is fair to say my heart sank, but always trying to be as accommodating as possible I agreed to head over once Falstone Show had been and gone. Thank the lord we have an excuse for an annual day off - Falstone Show was a life saver!

Wednesday is dawning, it is 22nd August, an early start to gather hill ewes and then commence clipping for another day. The farmers son and I have already had a day or two at the job, much gathering, shedding off lambs, housing sheep, clipping, neither of us seem to be in the right frame of mind for the job but we are getting through, later this morning we anticipate we will be gathering 3 - 400 sheep - the final gather, which will hopefully see us finished clipping by Friday at the latest if the weather will allow, after that should the 'phone ring the answer will be a definite NO. Spaening (weaning), dipping, gathering are all on the books, clipping will definitely be over for another year. Will I raise a glass again? Now that may just be tempting providence, maybe I'll just celebrate in a non committal fashion just to be on the safe side!

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".

read into it as you like!

 

This sign has often had me in stitches, a relic from the days when a road was un fenced and sheep roamed freely upon the highway but also a reminder to us all........!

Clipping set ups

Contract shearers usually have their own clipping trailers which they tow from farm to farm. These trailers come in many different shapes and forms.

 

There is the pen type trailer, these are either fitted on wheels or can be built once in situ. They are quite simply a pen with one or two doors allowing access to the sheep. The doors will be on a spring hinge so they shut automatically once a sheep is removed, after all, the shearer will have their hands full with the sheep which they are dragging out. These pens sit on the floor, unlike the race type trailers which are generally up a height

 

Many race type trailers follow the above design. A ramp which leads up to the race which the sheep are turned out of to be clipped.

 

The sheep stand patiently (or not so)

 

before being tipped out of the race to sit at the shearers feet and get shorn. Shep can sometimes struggle when helping someone else out on one of these trailers, it almost feels like you have to pat your head and rub your tummy (a thing I'm not the most adept at), I can hop from foot to foot trying to work out which foot to put onto the door to pull it down, whilst reaching for a sheep at the same time. Most are set up like this one with the sheep running to the left of the shearer, but there are some which run the opposite way and as I am easily confused it doesn't take much to have me trying to work out my left from my right!

Those of us who are naturally right handed find it easier to catch sheep left handed. The left hand being used to hold the head, turn it towards her shoulder and tip her over whilst the right hand is on her rump pushing it down. So getting onto a race which runs the opposite way finds those of us who are easily confused getting easily confused!!

 

Regardless of any confusion eventually sheep will be sitting at your feet and getting clipped (shorn). These trailers need to sit level. The boards (area the sheep are clipped on) will often have found a spirit level used on them to ensure they are indeed level. It is far easier on your back if the area you are clipping on is indeed level, also far easier for handling the sheep.

 

Clipping races are also used, Shep thinks these are the best approach, due in part to the fact sheep run along them far easier than they do when they have to run up a steep ramp and they are far easier to handle and catch sheep from than when they are standing in a bigger pen as in the first photo. This particular race is a permanent fixture on the farm. It takes up little room and is also used at scanning time to set the sheep into the scanning race. The doors open inwards into the race, enabling the shearer to pull a sheep backwards and onto it's arse at your feet without the next sheep in the queue escaping out of the open door.

 

There are also mobile races, some made of metal, others of wood, the design is just the same, sheep running along the level and being taken out of doors along the side of the race. It is of little consequence to the shearers that the clipping trailers can be difficult to load when sheep have to run up a steep ramp but for the staff on the day most appreciate having one of these races which run on the level which sheep trot along quite easily.

Anyhow, we're nearly into August and still the clipping season is running on. It's that wet stuff which is to blame, but hey! we'll all get there eventually - always have in the past.

The contract shearers have been battling along, many sheep are yet to clip in the countryside and some long and heavy days have been put in when weather has allowed. Shep was just talking to some shearers the other day, one a lad who started his shearing career alongside myself, he finally left me standing and went on to join the 300 a day club. We were discussing the season and I admitted to being somewhat sickened off with it this year, feeling it was extremely hard work. What a relief to find someone else shared my views. This lad explained that he just couldn't get into the swing of things, too many days off, too many days you started late and finished even later, too many days jamming in many sheep to try and get through the backlog.

Now it is fair to say that I thought it was just my personal circumstances, age probably too but we have both concluded that it is just the season. After all, when clipping all day every day the body soon gets accustomed and fittened and toned up. Here we are this season clipping one day and having two or three off, the body doesn't get a chance to get into the swing of things, it always feels stiff and uncooperative - and not just my body by all accounts.This particular shearer told me that he only clipped for 10 days in June, 10 days out of 30 - there is no way the body is going to get accustomed to what it is meant to be doing, or the head for that matter. Not to worry though, it is getting through, there are less and less woolly sheep in the countryside than there were a few weeks back.

Clipping (shearing) season 2012

Just incase some of you aren't aware it has been somewhat unseasonal this summer, yes, I know we live on an island which throws a variety of weather our way but........... not rain ALL the time. It would seem it has become a permanent feature, that wet stuff in what ever form it fancies. There has been wet, piss wet, very wet, wetter than wet then the wets we daren't mention in case children are listening, sometimes there has been the not so wets or even just the damp wetness. It is quite safe to say though that in a 24 hour period there has indeed been some form of wetness. Unless that is you live in the Western Isles of Scotland, now those poor souls are suffering a drought and yet they live in an area I always believed was a wet one - nowt like the idiosyncrasies of the good ol' British weather is there?

All this wetness has been causing grief, those that work outdoors, tend to stock are sick to the back teeth of wearing wellies and waterproofs day in day out. Stock are also getting sick of being wet all the time. The grass is growing BUT it also needs harvesting, again a problem when ground is waterlogged. Sheep need clipping, their coats need removing, a job which is preferable to do when the fleece is dry, packing it into wool sheets when wet will encourage it to mould and the price received for the product will be less should the product be damaged.

 

The good news is sheep have been queuing up

Blackies and Cheviots have been waiting patiently for their annual haircut. Probably held in fields for longer than usual waiting for a break in the weather to allow them to be housed dry or dryish.

Patience pays off and clipping commences.

It has to be said that the season has been a slow one, desperation has lead to sheep being clipped wet, many have been clipped damp and there are many, many more still waiting to get clipped. Here we are in the middle of July and Shep is 1,000 sheep behind on last year, they're still out there, they are still carrying their full fleeces, it just hasn't been possible to attend to their needs yet. Organisation has gone out of the window this year, whoever gets sheep housed first seems to be the ones who get their sheep shorn.

Quite arty I think - 'washing lines' full of fleeces, that's the way forward, dry the wool off the sheeps back!

Unfortunately a great deal of room is needed to hang a few fleeces up and some fleeces such as those off a cheviot or texel tend not to hold their shape like these fleeces off a blackie and are not suitable for hanging off a line, they just fall to pieces which is a tad inconvenient of them on a year such as this. Shep is mightly relieved that she doesn't clip the number of sheep she used to do, planning and organisation is a nightmare as it is with out the added complication of a good few thousand to clip. But regardless, we are getting there, it may be a long shearing season but they will all get done eventually.

Wet and wetter

The swallows are flying low, slugs are in heaven, it can mean only one thing - damp weather. Understatement! Did I say damp? Wet would probably be a truer description, or even wetter than wet may sum the situation up better.

Now I have no idea who or what has been poking bloody great big holes in our clouds but I think it only fair that they now get the darning needle out and do some running repairs. I never knew clouds could hold so much of the wet stuff, but seemingly they do.

There again it could be the giants thumping around up there and putting their feet through the clouds letting the wet stuff out. Giants? Well you see, as a kid I was told that thunder was the giants up in the clouds and they were angry and as we've had a humbdinger of a thunder storm today it made me imagine them stomping around and causing holes in the clouds, coz after all, the rain we've had today could only have come out of big holes, it was pretty big rain, actually I think the giants were tipping buckets of water out of the skies and laughing at us! At least I have grown out of hiding in the wardrobe when it thunders, just as well as today there wasn't a wardrobe handy!

Yup! I can see you all rolling your eyes - Shep has got water on the brain alright!

We've had a number of downpours, also showers, persistent showers, damp showers, wet showers, wetter than wet showers, more downpours and a handful of drier days - honest! there has been a handful, we just tend to forget about them between the wetter than wet days.

Burns have swollen, burst their banks and traveled where they fancy, as have field and hill drains. Roads have also been transformed to look like rivers, saves Shep getting the pressure washer out and removing all the muck and grime from the wheel arches of the car, it happens naturally when you drive on the roads!

I have no idea how much rain falls every day but there is a days worth in these dogs dishes - saves washing them out an' all - wonderful!

Today saw Shep clipping sheep, I only do a couple of days a week, not because I'm getting lazy but due to the fact that for the other five days in the week sheep are sopping wet. Today was one of those couple of days, fortunately the sheep had been housed overnight, otherwise Shep wouldn't have had any to clip as a misty morning would have guaranteed they would be damp of the fleeces and with rain commencing by mid morning they would definitely have never got dried. Fortunately I was working for someone prepared to house sheep overnight. Yesterday saw the clipping finished and then helping to gather, run lambs off and house ewes ready for today, it's a comfort as the raindrops hit the windscreen on the way home to know you'll get on in the morning.

As today's clipping drew to a close the heavens opened, it wasn't a hole in the clouds this time, more like a bloody great big tear, the wet stuff came down whole water, a spate no less. Lightening flashed into the shed and them giants commenced grumbling as the thunder brattled louder and louder. As clipped sheep were reunited with lambs and returned to their pastures Shep quite enjoyed the rain piddling down on her bare shoulders, a humid day had seen much sweat lost and the rain was truly refreshing, until I was wet that is, then it got somewhat tiresome, fortunately a change of clothes was on hand.

Gear was packed up but a delay ensued when it came to leaving and heading for home. The rain was torrential, the thunderstorm was right overhead, lightening and thunder complimenting one another, there was no way Shep was taking to the road in those conditions!

Overall, the storm would last a couple of hours and eventually Shep headed South and back into England. Water was running all ways, through gateways, down bank sides, almost running back up them, burns were boiling, some overflowing onto the road, driving with caution was necessary.

Once back into Northumberland everywhere seemed even wetter. I have never flashed my headlights to oncoming vehicles so much as I did in this particular journey, neither have I had so many flash theirs at me, there was much waving of acknowledgement for consideration to others on the roads. Broken down cars were passed just yards from flooded areas of the roads, police even had roads blocked and diversions set up as I got closer to home. What is normally an hours drive took me an hour and a half, there was much creeping through puddles (more like lakes) on the road.

I eventually had to stop and take a photo, I had passed some sheep just half a mile prior to this stop which were marooned in the flood water, ewes and lambs huddles on a tiny patch of soggy green surrounded by what looked like a raging torrent, I wish I'd taken a photo, but due to a police road block and redirecting of traffic there was much traffic on my tail and no where safe to pull over, so no photo. Hopefully the river would begin to run in and the sheep would find their 'island' growing in size before finally once again becoming their pasture.

The above photo is of the Rede, a twisty narrow river in the next door valley to our own, it is noted for flooding but even so had managed to do remarkably well in such a short time. It had swamped much ground and presumably was the cause of the redirecting of traffic a short way back down the road.

The excitement of my journey still wasn't over. There were still many watery obstacles to negotiate, small hill drains and burns had swollen to ridiculous proportions, running across roads and bringing down stone walls which were in the way of the spate. My mind was full of "Ooh", "Blimey", "good grief!" and even "Wow!". I just can't help feeling full of awe and respect for the power of nature.

The water levels began to subside quite quickly, an hour from returning home and it was more than obvious that water was draining away and heading at a rate of knots for the coast.

It left much damage in it's wake, stone walls down, tarmac lifted on the roads, trees washed away, land slides. Our pub got flooded out, not for the first time in it's life time and probably not the last, we have been extremely fortunate though in many ways, television news coverage tonight shows people far worse affected than ourselves, we don't have houses standing in water, nor cars with only their roofs showing above the water level. Them holes in the clouds may have left their mark but we have much to be thankful for.

We have a private weather station in Tarset and they sent the following report through Yesterday (28 Jun 2012) the temperature ranged from 12 to 18°C with 54.8mm rain. The wind gusted up to 18 mph. Follow the weather on Twitter: https://twitter.com/tarsetweather

For those of you like myself who don't quite follow the millimetre thing and prefer measurements in 'old money' as my mother would say then I have googled a converter and can report that 54.8mm equates to 2.1574803149629598 inches. Doesn't really sound a lot, however, the majority of it fell in just a couple of hours and believe you me, it did equate to a fair amount! BUT.......... apparently on 28th June 1917 243mm (9.5") reportedly fell at Bruton in Somerset, SO we ain't really got anything to complain about have we?

A pleasant find

Bouncing around in what only could be described as being in the middle of no where Shep stumbled upon something. By bouncing around I would like to add I was riding a quad bike on overgrown, rough, un grazed moorland, I wasn't actually physically bouncing around like a chimpanzee, although it is fair to say I have been known to do such things, just not on this particular occasion.

There I was, out in the middle of no where on a quest - trying to track down some wayward sheep, when I spotted a deer. Nowt unusual with that, there are roe deer a plenty in the Tarset valley and many to be seen on this particular hill ground which is surrounded by forestry.

This deer acted in a different fashion to many which you stumble upon. Usually a deer takes flight, all you see is the white rump disappearing into the distance. This one behaved in a totally different manner.

I would easily be 100 yards off it when it just seemed to spring up from nowhere, initially I thought little of the fact, just another deer. Until......... it only ran a few yards before stopping and heading back to the spot it had sprung from. As I was still bouncing along on the quad it then ran away further, but hesitated, stopped, looked back before disappearing over the edge of the hillside. Strange behaviour.

Now if that deer had been a sheep I would have guessed it had a lamb lying back there somewhere, why else would it hesitate and head back before running further away?

I looked across to the spot where I had first been aware of the deer and thought I could see something moving. Time to stop the bike and go and investigate I thought.

All movement had ceased as I slowly and quietly walked towards the spot, just over the edge of the hill I could hear a deer barking, she had definitely left something behind.

 

And sure enough, I wasn't disappointed, as tucked away in the long, overgrown heather was her fawn. A roe deer fawn. Acting dead. Squatting down, lying flat, pretending it wasn't there. Take flight and the hunter might hunt, lie and act dead and all may be well. It had been well taught for it's tender youth.

 

 

Moss lay away back next to the bike, curious as to what I was up to but wiser than to disobey his orders, he remained alert, waiting to be called, although that wasn't going to happen.

 

I took these photographs as quickly as I could, the photographer in me wanting to remove annoying foliage to enable a better shot, the shepherd in me telling me not to loiter, leave well alone and move on as quickly as possible. The doe was still calling, although out of sight she wasn't far away and so I retraced my steps, mounted the trusty stead and bounced off leaving mother and offspring to be reunited.

It is hard to believe, that this is Sheps first ever encounter with a roe deer fawn, I have seen many youngsters trotting alongside their mothers but never come across a little chap of just a few days old. It doesn't take much to cheer one up and this was one of those little things which puts a day on a high, all that bouncing about on the 18th June was well worth it!