Cattle

Mini Caramel

Caramel's latest addition to the herd, a heifer calf requiring a confectionery-themed name beginning with 'A'.  (And she's too pretty to be an 'Armadillo'.)

And I know you've been worried, so here is your guttering update: It's a work in progress.  Although should the importance of the fascia board to the integrity of the guttering superstructure be explained to me again, a woolly hat wearing gargoyle may be added to the system.

Pick-ups, poles and puddings

The cows are tucked up in the barn and I left the farm with the river rising, worrying electricity poles and a broken down pick-up. The super-breed that is the "abbreviated collie" and I have headed to Dorset for dairy farm fun, Humbug to cheat on BFF Reggie with cousin Jack, and to "feast" upon a 2-year old Christmas pudding found at the back of Mrs "Heston would be proud" Rogers' larder.  Mmmm antique.  Can you say superfood?

 

 

 

 

 

I am thinking perhaps that said pickled delight could be used to shore up the electricity cable crossing our flood meadow of which a junction of high voltage cable has lost a stay but in no way carries the electricity to Nayland, in particular the pumping station.  So no need for concern.  Little fills you with greater dread than a mechanic kicking poles at the base to see if they wobble.

A flood would really help, particularly as they cannot get the machinery down to properly fix the problem until the land dries out.  Last year, we had the Incident of the Downed Cable Sparking in the Night.  We would really not like to repeat that so have removed the bullocks to higher ground to avoid both flooding and to remove them from the ultimate scratching post that is a telegraph stay.  Their beautiful bottoms seen here trotting obediently up Water Lane to attack the stay in the Home Field instead.

But even though the pick-up and cattle trailer broke down (luckily on the way back from unloading cattle) and Dad embarked on a lengthy wait for the recovery services, there was good news this week as the cows are now safely installed in the barn and feasting on hay in the yard outside.

They face a winter of pampering at the 5* Hotel de LDF.  Give them a wave if you pass on Water Lane.  If you walk past at dusk, you can watch the calves "barrel race" round the feeders whilst the mothers look on in despair!

Back in Dairyville, I'm off to continue my culinary tour, play "Lose a Welly Roulette" with the Dorset mud...

..and drink the bulk tank dry of fresh milk - I'm hoping, the ultimate antidote to ancient puddings.

1 + 1 =

Two calves this morning.  Yes, that is how efficient we are (she said, laughing).  Nothing like simultaneous calving - on opposite sides of the field of course, to start the day right. First, Caribou (left), produced a non-reindeer-esque heifer calf.

Closely followed by Tepi, who very kindly allowed us time for breakfast, before producing the latest member of the Carpet Dynasty, and nephew to the lovely Axminster.

Good haul for a morning!

And also, a wake-up call. This is what happens when a calf sees my appearance first thing in the morning...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The horror.

Two Calf Mondays

Why stop at one when you can have...

A daytime miracle...

and a starlight marsupial fright...

Cute now, but when it was born, it looked more like an opossum.

And that's not what you want to be faced with on a dark night.

Any name suggestions (starting with the letter 'A') for these two lovely bull calves?   Starlight calvings reduce creativity, and you should do it for the animals...otherwise, I will name the latter Apossum.

World exclusive

Introducing Justine Bieber.  No paternity test necessary, but that hair on a calf?  Either freaky, or pretty damn cool! And just because he doesn't share a truly tenuous link to a global superstar, in a week of new arrivals, this poser also joined the herd.

A papped shot complete with gormless passer-by in the background.  Three down, one to go in March.  Humbug has even joined in the celebrations by turning ginger to blend in with his Hereford friends.  Either that or as much-needed camouflage in his chosen Olympic discipline...Chicken Chasing.  Sigh.