Sometimes (..often), visitors to the farm are drafted in to help out. Usually, it's to help block a gap as we move the cows or similar. But sometimes, it's a little more involved...
Last weekend, Paddy, Dad's godson, was literally kidnapped and taken off to help harvest a new green oak beam for the upcoming Timber Frame Course.
And a good job too, as it is safe to say it was not a one man job. The perfectly shaped branch in question belonged to a huge fallen oak at the edge of the Marsh. 

Employing the basic laws of physics and engineering, plus a chain saw and a JCB, we extracted and lifted the section over the fence.
At one stage the words "Why don't we come back tomorrow and take the fence down?" were uttered. But Farmer Humph was persuaded to persevere (I climbed on the tree trunk and stamped my foot) and has now shaped the beam, and it looks gorgeous.
This curved beam will replace a piece of 4x2, and restore the original archway through to the old farm. This particular beam made the cut as its shape roughly matches that of an existing arch, which will remain in situ. It is fantastic to be able to use wood from the farm in the restoration of the Stable. A lot of the timber in the original build is recycled from earlier buildings, but it makes you wonder how much "new" wood was harvested from trees on the farm...without a JCB...how grim.
Huge thanks to Paddy for explaining to Dad how his plan was a little kamikaze, and working out a safer alternative - model godchild behaviour. Apparently, one of Paddy's early memories is attempting to climb the giant steps up to the combine; a sure sign he should return during harvest and have a go driving that very same Mercator!















This is one of only two photos we own in which the barn is thatched. It was taken from the front garden of the farmhouse, looking across Water Lane (not to mention a rather lovely flower border) - can you imagine the cost to do that now! Or, as Dad wisely pondered, can you imagine taking on a farm with thatched barns today!?














Form an orderly queue with your gold, frankincense and myrrh, electricity has returned to the barn! Bye bye extension cables, hello light switches - if I can remember where they are in the dark. Actually, us children pride ourselves on our innate ability to navigate through a pitch black ex-milking parlour/workshop with its tables, tools and unidentifiable objects of varying vintages scattered across the only route to the light switches. This kicks in early - survival of the fittest in action. And let me tell you, it's all about the shuffle.
