In celebration of the sunshine, Britain's Next Top Moo-del* broke out his 'Blue Steel' for the camera.
* couldn't help myself.
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.
Essex, Orange and Proud
Yes, it's nearly Halloween, and El Diablo dog is disguising himself as a pumpkin to avoid the ghosts of past unholy collie-terrier unions. Wise werewolf.
Here in Essex, those of us who cannot afford a spray tan, take this seasonal opportunity to surround ourselves with as many pumpkins as possible for a reflected TOWIE orange glow. Nothing is more effective at scaring the undead. 
And so, to celebrate this joyous pumpkin-filled Hallowe'en, we've delved into Hannah's recipe "book" (a scary task in itself, see right), and as requested, the recipe for a family favourite:
Pumpkin Bread
1lb pumpkin (peeled and diced) , 2 oz butter/marg, 1 tsp. cinnamon, 1 tsp. ginger, large pinch nutmeg, 1lb flour (1/2 white, 1/2 wholemeal is best), 1 tsp. salt (optional), 2 tsps. sugar, 2 tbsps. warm water, 1 egg (beaten)
Peel and dice the pumpkin. Cover with water and cook for 20 minutes until tender then drain and mash with the butter, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg. Make sure it is smooth. Leave to cool.
Meanwhile, mix together the sugar, warm water, egg and yeast.
Once the pumpkin mixture is lukewarm, combine all the ingredients and knead. The mixture can be quite wet at first. The best advice I've had is to start mixing and kneading with a spatula and give the flour time to absorb some of the liquid. If needed, gradually add extra flour a little at a time on your hands or in the bowl and knead in until you have a smooth dough.
Cover and leave for 10 minutes to prove in a warm place.
Punch down and divide the dough in two. Knead each half and place into two greased 1lb loaf tins. Cover the tins with a tea towel and leave in a warm place until the dough has doubled in size.
Cook at 200oC for about 30 minutes, or until bread sounds hollow when knocked on the base. (My favourite part of the bread process!)
Enjoy toasted with lashings of butter, Marmite or jam and try not to eat the two loaves before you get a chance to take a photo...ahem.
This year, mini pumpkins (munchkins) are available at Wiston Church, including the adorably named 'Wee Be Little'. It's worth a walk over to Wiston to enjoy the autumn colours and return home with pockets of pumpkins. They also act as excellent improvised "go fetch" balls if you are uncoordinated enough to drop them near annoyingly fast werewolves with vegetarian tendencies - a socially acceptable werewolf if ever I've met one.
Happy baking and Happy Halloween!
All Creatures Great and Small II: And Those Not Bright and Beautiful
Ah, Autumn, season of mist and mellow fruitfulness. A time when Humbug suffers puddle/mud dilemmas, night-time "stealth rain" periodically knocks out the electricity, as does the slightest tremor of wind, and Water Lane lives up to its name upgrading the farm with an exclusive "moated" look. The very height of Country Living desirability!
The River Stour is on the rise, so we may soon have to take the bullocks off the Marsh and autumn cultivation has been abandoned in favour of spring barley. However, in good news, the squirrel escaped...then returned with a friend, both intent on making their way back into the covered bin. Yes, we saw the jungle gym potential, and took it to the next level. Welcome to the LDF Squirrel Creche. Are you going away from home? Work-Life balance leaving you with little "me-time"? Leave your squirrels with us. A diversification idea I can't wait to share with the bank manager.
I laugh, yet Humphrey is at one with the squirrels. Forget 'Tarzana', a baby squirrel once decided Dad's wellington boot was its mother. Humph was found standing in the middle of the lane plaintively crying for assistance as said squirrel-ette refused to abandon his wellington.
I'm not sure what's scarier, a pet squirrel or the Gollum-esque nutter (appropriate) holding it...my precious.
But in other news, and proving once again I am not "at one" with the animals, following my tweet, Farm Dog was found cavorting in mud, puddles and a lot of onion waste (= stinky dog, avoid at all costs) with BFF from Wiston Mill, Reggie.
So last year it was complete refusal, and this year it's personal. I am not worth crossing the muddy wastes to reach. Given the squirrel died shortly after the photo was taken (most probably out of terror), it is proving difficult to blame him.
I shall instead focus on the lovely autumn colours as the trees begin to turn across the Valley, providing an excellent backdrop to this year's record silage harvest!
Windfall Piglets
It's time to catch up with our apple-mad pigs.
The pigs arrived the day before Open Farm Sunday, and refusing to sign an involvement contract, spent most of OFS hiding. Fortunately, pigs quickly learn that humans = food and if you bite that human, you get to the food faster as buckets fall and the air turns a little blue. So here are the big, bad piglets now...
They have (fingers crossed) literally grown out of their escape artist phase, but are still popular with walkers along the lane. Those who cry "Here Piggy Piggy!" 
on Water Lane are rewarded by our piglet display team performing a screeching, ear-flapping yet balletic sprint in the wrong direction - their echolocation is about as highly tuned as Humbug's, and they tend to head to the food bowl first. Something I can relate to. But all the exercise and snuffling makes for a tasty free-range pig, and at this rate, we expect a full complement of bacon, sausages, joints and gammon for Christmas.
Currently, they are guzzling their way through a vast quantity of apples. With competition in our little orchard from the chickens, help is at hand from the people of Nayland - in particular the magic porridge pot of apple trees in Fen Street. If anyone has any windfalls they would like cleared, we can put them to good use!
In other great news, it is finally dry enough (with a little rain-dodging) to muck out the barn. This window of dry weather has all the local farmers excited. For us, it means for the first time this year we can transport the muck over grassland without damaging the fields. We like the barn to be spankingly clean for the cows when they head inside for the winter and it's good to finally see that muck heading up the lane.
I am so thankful, I even papped a trailer load of manure. I'm off now to start writing a talk for the East Essex Food and Farming Group next week. I promise not to include the muck photo.
Farming Traditions
Harvest Festival decorations at Wiston Church
[My traditional soprano accompaniment to "We Plough the Fields.." makes local farmers thankful we only celebrate harvest once a year.]
Spuds away!
Whilst we're not potato farmers (last grown at LDF in the '50s), we are surrounded by a potato growing giant, so to celebrate, we're delving into Grandad T's farming archive to compare two very different harvests...
From one horsepower c.1945...
..to today in Horkesley
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.
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The valley is alive at the moment with the merry harvesters working from dawn 'til dusk to harvest the humble potato. I like to adopt a dig-for-victory approach to growing potatoes in the garden, but Humbug rejoices in the opportunity to chase the big machines.
And so, as Rix's workers fill the local pub comparing which model of tractor adorns their credit cards (only the most dedicated make the harvest cut), we salute the potato -provider of employment, most versatile tuber and saviour of dinnertime.
Beef chilli and baked potatoes for supper? Yes please!
All Creatures Great and Small: Squirrel SOS
We have a squirrel stuck in a grain bin.
A squirrel, that had previously eaten through a plastic dustbin to eat the food within. It is now quite an obese squirrel.
Arrived at the farm to find Dad has rigged up a squirrel escape route. Apparently, "it does not like diagonal ladders"..so the escape "strategy" involves vertical ladders as well.
That's right, Dad's built a squirrel jungle gym.
It's very difficult not to fall off a ladder when you are laughing quite so much.