The Golden Beet Club
A mound of sugar beet at last! Plus about half has already been collected in a rapid and ultra-efficient operation courtesy of some excellent timing by the teams at Brooks' and Hogger's. I have recovered myself from the foetal position, the broken result of shovelling and sweeping the road by hand to help keep road users safe. It's interesting, I didn't realise my "Caution - Mud on Road" signs actually said "Accelerate NOW! Then test your brakes".
Fortunately, the stretch of road was not too long and was navigated far more skilfully than I could have managed in a machine half the size. And the result, a glowing mound of beet safely in and on it's way to the British Sugar factory at Bury St Edmunds(fingers crossed) before too much frost or the factory breaking down.
If the weather suits, you have to cover the heap with tarpaulins. I recently realised that for years, my benchmark for new clothing is whether I could clamber up a heap of icy sugar beet dragging a tarpaulin whilst maintaining a degree of modesty. Fortunately, the sugar beet growers of Essex aren't known for their racy outfits on the farm and stilettoes do crush the beet so.
Without deterioration each sugar beet apparently yields around 3 teaspoons of sugar. This fact may go down well with Humbug and the sweet-toothed cows, but it massively depressed chief grower Humph and resulted in severe but thank goodness temporary sugar rationing (Silver Spoon of course) in the Taylor household.
But, there are benefits to growing sugar beet including membership of "The Golden Beet Club". "The what?" I hear you ask. Well, I have no clue. Membership is, of course, exclusive (like the Bullingdon of beet growers) and requires the wearing of a miniature golden beet-shaped lapel badge that arrived one day in the post and was the pride and joy of my badge collection as a child. Here's hoping I haven't broken some secret Masonic code in revealing this club to the world.
However, in the absence of any communication in the past decade (I don't think they can revoke membership...), we'll have to stick to celebrating our annual finding of the red beet contest. Located from the heap of beet by Andrew Copsey and beautifully modelled here by Humph, I can reveal it does indeed taste like proper beetroot - if a little sweeter and somewhat gritty. Golden Beet Club eat your heart out!
For now however, the big machinery has left, and tomorrow we're clearing a path through the remaining heap to get the bullocks into their winter housing. Bullocks are far more nimble than I am heading up and over a beet heap, so I'm hoping for best behaviour.
Finally and most importantly, CONGRATULATIONS to the lovely James and Louise, Dorset's newest farm tenants! A very wise decision by the council and an excellent addition to Dorset society (although I'd watch out for the Rogers - dreadful bores). We wish you all the best in setting up your new farm and discovering what is inside "the unsurveyed room"...
Beauty and the Beet...
Beauty and the Beet
Day 1: Beet Odyssey 2011
Bricklayers Anonymous
Yesterday, whilst wearing my regulation "it's November, it should be cold" outfit (three fleeces and a waterproof) I was wolf-whistled at by a man towing a cattle trailer. I was as surprised as you are, but this can only mean one thing...bring on the mince pies!
And no Verity, you cannot use shop bought pastry. Save yourself some money and go crazy with some shortcrust.
Shortcrust pastry
8oz flour, pinch of salt, 2oz lard, 2oz marg, cold water to mix (approx 2tbsp), (1oz sugar for sweet pastry)
Mix flour and salt in basin, rub in fat.
Using a knife, to cut and stir, mix with cold water to form a stiff paste.
Turn dough on to a floured board/worktop and roll out.
- from the Be-Ro bible.
Personally, I think lids are a waste of pastry (I am that cheap), so it's stars or dinosaurs, or whichever shape cutter/mould comes to hand - some still retaining the kryptonic strength of dried-on homemade play dough. Or if you have that much time on your hands, you can create Edible Boggle (minus the shaking). Way more rewarding than actual Boggle.
In other news...progress on the barn restoration. The brickwork is nearly completed thanks to Dad and Jack, our Master Bricklayer.
Over the past two years, Mum and Dad have made incredible progress to ensure the barn remains standing for another few hundred years. Through courses run by Essex Heritage and led by the excellent Richard Green of Green Restoration, we've been able to repair the rotten sole plate in three places and shore up the barn. After the marathon effort of all the attendees on the last course, we've got a lot to do but it will be worth it!
We'll be adding more information and background to our website, but here is a quick photographic rundown to get you up to speed and show you our most recent progress. And Richard, I'm not that good with Photoshop, the brickwork is real!
The race is on to get it shipshape before the weather turns...!
Never mind the Red Coats...
Wherefore art thou Max?
It's stumbling around the yard time again! No, we've not been at the moonshine, a midnight, full moon calving produced this little werewolf...
Or given it was born of Caribou, perhaps a little reindeer in training?
With time to kill as Caribou settled, it was time to assess the options for a) staying warm and b) not falling asleep in the barn. After deciding it was positively arctic when I left my bed, I was wearing three fleeces, a coat, and hat, (positively balmy, how wrong I was) and had the restricted mobility of the Michelin man. Excellent for warmth, bad for accusations "your immense bulk is blocking the light [single bulb] in the barn".
As for falling asleep, this is no jungle gym, you've got to get creative. Whilst you, calving novice, might see a breeze block in the straw, you would be wrong. I (foolishly) see a temporary balance ball for a little core exercise, some step-ups (massively contributed to the stumbling). Other patented ways to kill time and avoid the fallback option of local radio - all farm radios' bandwidth selectively dies leaving only BBC Radio Suffolk/Essex (I can't type that without singing the jingle)? An impromptu Bollywood dance class - a little known fact is that Bollywood dancing originated from the Essex-Suffolk border where we are all naturals. Humph can now also hand jive - I'm not sure how he ever survived an episode of 'Blockbusters' without this crucial life skill. A life is born, a skill is learnt, it's deep stuff here on the farm.
But '"Where is Max?' I hear you (apparently the entire County of Dorset?) ask. Well, not only is he now installed in his proper place on the "Dairy dreams" post, but he's got double-billing. Here, for your eyes only, is Max with his best "Blue Steel". Definitely working his best side.
Sliding doors
"Have you seen the puppy that's trying to kill the furry animals?". You can take the dog out of the country...but not to a popular pet store. The TV advert promises a treat for every animal, but after this and barking at your own reflection in the sliding doors (every time they closed), we were lucky not to leave with a pet ASBO.
It's been all go here with more calves, muck spreading, hen moving, bale moving (sterling work by Humph, cramming the last bales into the barn before it rained) and a tip-top weekend of dehorning and castrating in Dorset - I'll save you the details. Never let it be said the glamorous Taylor girls (in matching Primark hoodies) don't know how to have a good time. Incidentally, the chants of "here come the chavs" were not appreciated.
Back home in Essex, Humbug and I put the "rural" into "rural broadband" at the CLA's Rural Broadband Week roadshow in the village hall - think muddy wellies and eau de fox scat. The CLA's "Can't Get Online" campaign is lobbying to ensure every rural business and household can access a broadband connection of at least 5Mbps. Humbug, a very concerned citizen, contributed some very loud yawning - greatly appreciated by all at the meeting.
The cows have decided enough is enough and they'd like to come inside thank you very much. So it's time to start reconstructing that highly advanced system of gates in the barn, consider (only consider) replacing the vintage baler twine that holds them all together and find places around the farm to store the machinery that's been kept undercover over the summer. You'd think it would be difficult to lose a gate. But you would be wrong.
All thoughts now turn to sugarbeet madness. This year, I get to see for the first time the MONSTER machinery in action in the tiny fields of Lower Dairy Farm. A nightmare for the operators...but very exciting for me!