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.

heart stopping moment

I opened a door into a hayshed and my heart nearly stopped. NO! nowt jumped out at me, there wasn't even anything unduly sinister in there, there was just this view

 

I need to take you back in time, to the first little spell of snow we had which was in November I think. I went into the self same hayshed to get hay for the sheep and this sight did not confront me, the shed looked quite normal.

However, when I pulled a bale of hay down there were some none hay like objects to be found on top of the bale, the sort of objects which make the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Great big mouse droppings - aargh!! The only thing I know of that leaves behind great big mouse droppings is a great big mouse, or ought I say rat - shudder!

Past postings will confirm my absolute dislike for rats, not just a dislike but a loathing..... urgh!!!

I closely inspected the droppings on the bale and convinced myself these were quite dessicated, dried out, old, probably been there for ever and a day as this was year over hay, it had been put in the hayshed last winter, the rats were bound to have been and gone by now. There was nothing for them to eat anyhow, other than hay that is. Yup, I stiffened my back, lifted my chin and convinced myself they were indeed history.

A while later I was once again in the hayshed and this time greeted with the above sight, holes dug out on the floor of the hay shed, urgh..... I made a lot of noise, banging and clattering as much as I could find to bang and clatter and finally plucked up the courage to retrieve a bale of hay (how brave is that??!!)

 

I tried to turn a blind eye to this run in the hay (okay! I failed to turn a blind eye, I photographed it - from a safe distance I may add!) Now hay bales often have gaps between them, the gaps aren't however usually well worn with the trafficking of feet as this one was, also, there aren't usually well worn tracks beneath the hay shed door leading to the holes in the loose, old hay on the floor. There was no doubt that there were more than just hay bales living in this particular shed, the hairs on the back of my neck were indeed prickling.

Eventually I plucked up courage and returned, armed with rat poison no less. Again much clattering and banging before entering the shed. Just in case you understand.... wouldn't want to frighten the little blighters... I'd feel much happier if they had time to go and hide and pretend they're not there, far kinder approach I thought!

 

On this occasion I noticed there was fur lying near one of the holes, difficult to see here as there is also shards of black plastic but fur there was, rabbit fur at that. I'm not aware that rats drag there prey back to their nests but I could be wrong, or mebbes a rabbit had inadvertently found itself in the shed, had a good scratch and left a pile of fur behind before returning to the great outdoors, mebbes they were rabbit holes I was viewing and not what I thought to be rat holes....... mebbes a miracle might happen and the rats were going to be a figment of my imagination, mebbes I'd confused rabbit dottles for rat shit (god help us all if I'm getting that confused!)

A closer inspection of the area had Shep finding more trophies

 

A feeling of exhilaration was beginning to overpower the feeling of dismay. Could this be what I think it is? Could I really be that lucky? I refused to believe my luck until I was able to get home and check my bible My poo book. (not winnie and pooh bear but a book of spraints, faeces and droppings of all sorts of creatures)

Sure enough, my initial thoughts were soon confirmed, "sausage like, twisted and drawn out" describes spraint from the polecat family - yipee! A stoat probably, now that'll sort out them scaley tailed creatures. I feel ecstatic at the thought. My poison wont be needed after all.

Has to be said tho' that I'll probably remain extremely nervous as more hay finds itself removed from the shed but I'd like to think that Mr Stoat will have done his job.

I have been told that years ago farmers would put ferrets in the shed where corn was stored to keep the rats at bay, ferrets in a hutch no less. It is believed that rats will not go where ferrets are. Ferrets have a distinctive musky odour and rats will be able to smell them quite easily. It is of interest that we keep a couple of ferrets, for rabbiting, and when ever there has been an infestation of rats on the farm where we live they have never bothered to visit our cottage. Is that because we have ferrets? They are fearless hunters, as are stoats and even a rat who can be equally fearless will probably meet it's match faced with a member of the polecat family. Let's hope so.