From this...
to the barn course 40 years later...
to this week...
Boarding completed before the monster hail began.
It's official, a weather-proof, dove-proof side to the Mill House!
- Humbug "Spirit Level" Taylor lending a hand
For the love of...
baler twine!
Happy Valentine's Day!
from Team Taylor c. 1978.
(If I don't blog again, I've been killed for posting this, the younger Taylors' favourite farm photo. Check out that hair! Farm news from the present day and full of baler twine, next week...)
I, Snowman
This week, whilst Humbug gets lost in a snowdrift and Dad and I argue over the only watering can to thaw water troughs, here on the warm and peaceful blog, we're heading back to 1963 and a real "Deep Freeze".
During this harsh winter, the horseshoe weir on the Stour at Wiston froze completely. People actually cycled up the river from Nayland to see the spectacle. In the words of Mr. T. (not Humphrey), "Crazy fools!".
We may not have had much rain, but the weir is in fine roaring form so no cycling this year, not even any skating on the frozen marsh.
Thanks to Celia Westbrook for some awesome photos of the weir this weekend, including this one taken in the same spot as our vintage 1963 photo by Grandad. This allows me to demonstrate the distinct lack of ice without Humbug dragging me down to the water to roll in rotting fish abandoned by evil fishermen.
But it's actually quite a beautiful spot, perfectly captured below. Celia, I hope you don't mind me sharing these. We think you should definitely enter the Nayland Village Calendar Competition (details here and in the Nayland and Wissington Community Times). I believe it's how Annie Leibowitz got her first big break...!
A Yuletide treat
Seasons Greetings from all at Lower Dairy Farm!
And what better way to celebrate the festivities than a Christmassy vintage offering.
This fantastic photograph is reproduced from a Christmas card sent to us by the Cohens who live at the mill. See if you can spot the two figures in the picture.
Wiston Mill is just over the Stour from the farm and an important landmark in the valley (and home to Humbug's best friend, Reggie). One of my earliest memories is Dad driving the combine very slowly over the mill bridge as we children looked on willing the bridge to stay up.
Thank you to everyone who has helped out on the farm this year. From the barn mending teams to those offering advice and support over the phone, we are very grateful. Special thanks to Chris Kelly who is single-handedly keeping the rabbit population of Little Horkesley under control.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all!
All-you-can-eat Autumn
Temperatures are dropping and the frost has returned. Time for the annual checklist...
Drilling sorted. Check. Harvest Festival. Check. Pumpkin sale at Wiston Church. Check. Sweet chestnuts gathered. Chek - I'm typing through the pain. Who needs gloves? And I can hear a tiny violin....which must mean...Whoop! Autumn is back!
So, as the crops emerge and I tentatively dance up a rainstorm and play the weather game, it's time for another vintage photo. This Massey Harris seed drill courtesy of Grandad T's faming collection c. 1940s.
This year, I spent a frantic half hour in the role of the man on the back, running up and down the tailboard trying to eke out the little seed remaining, and inevitably running out with a few metres to go. But, crisis averted! After we'd got past Dad's "seasonal Tourette's" when faced with bags of seed corn - "It's Autumn! No Spring! ..Winter!..Spring!..Winter!", the correct grain was found and job done just in time for Humphrey to head off to play the flute in concert that evening.
Good news for us and for the pigeons, seagulls, rooks etc. that use the fields as an all-you-can-eat buffet to get fat for the winter. A flock of pigeons is for life, not just for Christmas. Fortunately, natural pest control in action - thank you to the farmer next door who's planted some far tastier oilseed rape. Plus, this year, they've got Humbug to contend with. And that dog believes he can fly...
Two tonne sows...
That's right, I woke up this morning to an invite to the "Two Tonne Sow Event". I am trying not to take this personally, but whilst I struggle through the emotional distress and the postman's laughter, I bring you our vintage picture for the week...
Grandad teaching Dad the art of combining on our Massey Ferguson 780. We've still got the combine..."useful scrap".
Previously on Lower Dairy Farm...
...harvest, piglets, puppies and poultry.
Yep, harvest is done (bar that unintentional "conservation area" at the top that needs baling). So here's a quick recap of what's been going on...
Between the rainy days, we completed our harvest and Dad's baling marathon means we've got enough fodder for the winter. This year saw Lower Dairy Farm's first Bale Census - a hi-tech compilation method involving a post-it note on the fridge.
Hundreds of bales = lots of bale hauling from around the village. It's my first year hauling bales on the road (thank you patient drivers, shame on you impatient idiots) and I enlisted the help of Lower Dairy Farm's newest member, Humbug the dog on his first tractor adventure. I like to haul bales in style, as you can see from the picture below.
It's safety first on the farm, and when tying bales on it really helps to use all your weight and I like to harness the power of the dog pulling on the end of the rope...provided Humbug the highly trained puppy gives the rope back... Tying on provides great amusement for those watching, particularly on a windy day when flinging the rope accurately over a loaded trailer is nigh on impossible. Apparently it's "really funny" to watch when the rope flies back over and hits you in the face before the dog runs off with it. I really have no future as a team roper, but for now, I'll blame the driving wind. Turn the trailer round? What a waste of fuel.
Anyhow, with all bales back at HQ and counted, it's time to get stuck into everyday chores. The cows are out on pasture, and we're about to head into our next block of calvings. This will coincide with (fingers crossed) duckling hatching - far less stressful than calving!
August saw the first pigs on the farm for over 50 years. Dad has a faint memory of Grandad keeping pigs in the same place we are today. 
Our two are Gloucester Old Spot x Tamworth, so should make for good pork and bacon.
What with the piglets, calves and puppy arriving within one month, we've had lots of visitors. I am now positive that the pigs have a better diet than I do as the people of Nayland and Little Horkesley bring them surplus veg from their gardens. It really does take a village, and you know you've reached a new low when you consider rescuing a cabbage from a pig pen.
This week has been particularly insane, finishing harvest, hauling, chicken windproofing (the excitement knows no bounds), sorting the house out etc, the puppy (I'm not reknowned for my enthusiasm and boy does he require a lot), selling a ton of books through Amazon, being pimped out at the farm gate (yep, I would make a good Bathsheba, stop encouraging the men over 60 Dad) and an unkept promise that I would actually get round to weighing the pigs - piglet catching requires fast acceleration, great hand-eye co-ordination and the ability to think fast...none of which I am blessed with! Oh and the PhD - yesterday was the first night I've had a chance to look at anything properly for a month. So of course, I am simultaneously searching for books on pig husbandry, setting up the blog and researching poultry drinkers online. It's quite a search history!