Happy sad...

I got back from Madrid mid afternoon last Monday and went to see how Robin had been getting on with some of the gateways. (We have contractors in every summer to cut the silage and their large tractors and bailers barely squeeze through the overgrown brambles and tree branches that crowd all of the field entrances). Two things here, firstly, the removed undergrowth has revealed the remains of what once was a fence which will now have to be replaced, and secondly, due to the dry conditions I’m too scared to burn the massive pile of twigs, branches and brambles Robin cut off through fear of accidentally torching all of the woodland between here and Brightling and ending up on the telly.

I forgot about the above when I suddenly had to deliver a stillborn calf on Tuesday morning, one of only three calves still to come at this late stage. This always focuses the mind. I spotted the mother in a state of labour at about 7 o’clock in the morning...the waters had already broken. I felt uneasy with this because calving tends to start early morning, say 4-5 ish. So, had the waters broken two or so hours before? If so, this could be a problem.

I let a few waves of contractions take place and saw a hoof, then two, then the beginnings of a snout. I got quite hopeful, but the contractions were lazy and short and the mother, a heifer, seemed quite disinterested in what was going on at her rear, another bad sign.  After a short while I decided to attach ropes to the feet and pull. This was quite tricky as the mum had drawn the calf back in by this stage and I had to force my hands inside and tie the ropes around the first hoof joint on each leg of the calf. It took a lot to hold against the contractions, albeit they were weak, and after fair old struggle I got him out, lifeless. I knew he had been dead for a little while but gave a couple of strong forceful pushes on his ribcage just in case, and when fluid emerged from mouth and nose I knew it was certain. All part of dealing with livestock, and a possible lesson learned. You have to become a stoic in this line of work.

Don't forget to check in tomorrow for some fun and japes in "Name That Pig™" with Penelope the chicken. Oh yes, a real game (poultry really...sorry) bird she is too! Short of being able to extend the farm budget to contract my other favourite ginger bird, Kaddy Lee-Preston from BBC Southeast Today, I had to make do with a chicken as my beautiful assistant for the spectacular cornflake-inspired pig-name selection extravaganza! Don't miss it! 

Not so quiet mode

I have often been told that people prefer me when I’m being quiet. So, I hope you’ve enjoyed the past week or so of serenity on this blog; no ranting, complaining or even a hint (I really wanted to say “whiff” here) of bum crack. Time I changed all that then...

I spent last weekend in what I like to pretentiously call my second home, Madrid. In actual fact, having lived there for 3 years in total, means that it actually is pretty much a second home. Given it’s size, I know it better than London. Anyway, there is a point to all this. Unlike our renewed relationship with farmers markets and specialist suppliers of everything from courgette flowers to venison, asparagus, cheese and chocolate, the “Spaniels” have been at it for years.

In brief, Franco’s long reign of fascism ended with his death in 1975 and can be blamed for having somewhat stifled Spain’s economical, cultural and political development during his 39 years or so of office. At the time Spanish people were aware of this and may have felt that they were poorer as a result. In fact, I think it has made them richer in some respects despite the rather dire current economic climate and a plethora of other socio-political aspects we could touch upon.  I am referring to the institution of food, or to use a broader Spanish term “alimentacion”. Franco encouraged Spain to grow and produce and to essentially be self-sufficient in a kind of “Spain is great, so we don’t need anybody else” way. As a result there is still a thriving market industry throughout the entire country.

In Madrid, I know of about 8 or so markets which make Borough Market seem not only the poncy hang-out that it is but also put it to shame on selection and quality. Remember, these Spanish markets are often run down and old fashioned concrete shells, but the colour, variety and ambience contained within is positively buzzing. The selection extends beyond just veg to meat products where there will be at least two or three butcher stalls in every market in addition to those that sell just chicken and eggs as well as a handful of separate stalls selling only hams, chorizo and cheeses – let’s not forget at least three or four fishmongers to boot! They are all essentially specialists who know their produce. So, markets are awash with both choice and competition and this is possibly why it works. Moreover, markets tend to be cheaper than supermarkets and you can always buy just what you need for that day or a specific meal, therefore generating less waste. All produce is grown or reared in Spain and comes direct from farmers, growers and cooperatives and so there is a direct life-line from consumer through to the person who planted the seed or reared the pig. There is also the logistics and storage network which employs thousands of additional people. Widely, the Spanish see Supermarkets as places for staples like flour, sugar, biscuits and booze. Decent fresh produce comes from the markets – that’s just the way it is and its also true to a point in France and Italy too.

So, why are we so Supermarket focussed in this country? Its because we have all bought in to the American-driven convenience philosophy which was cultivated by those wishing to profit from their products...not for our benefit or wellbeing. I know you all know this, I know you all have jobs and kids and whatever, and you haven’t got time. Make time, or see the supermarkets get stronger and farmers and growers get weaker.  Don’t just think about price either, this really is so bleeding elementary, but I’ll spell it out anyway. The amount you save on a two for one bargain, the petrol you save on doing one shop a week, the overall reduction in spending by buying a leg of lamb in a supermarket rather than from your butcher is nothing in comparison to even a packet of fags or a pint or choosing to take the more acceptable Easyjet flight for your holiday (which will cost hundreds or thousands!) at 11:30 as opposed to 05:00 for 28 quid more. When it comes to everything else in life; houses, watches, cars, golf clubs, hookers etc, we basically spend as much as we can, so why do we try to spend as little as possible on food and then feel smug when we get two packs of butter for the price of one when we only actually need one? This is a big subject and I’m just scratching the surface here. More another day. I’ll shut up for now, although all comments welcomed both for and against.

Tune in tomorrow and watch some ginger bird I picked up name the pigs!

“You cannot be serious!” Not all of the time, right?

The Blogger.com site has been down for the last few days which is why this post is a bit late..that and my ineptitude at uploading videos onto Youtube, so apologies for the delay.

As promised, I conducted Operation Pig in front of a camera. So the not so sweet little pig 2 has an earring. I would like to be clear that I make no apology for what you see and that by wishing to view such video content you should be aware in advance that you may find certain aspects of this footage quite distressing, as despite my explicit directions to the cameraman to carefully train his view on the pig at all times he seemed to do the best he could to aim the camera at my bum-crack whenever possible. Canny he is indeed, as he managed to get the entire tagging process on film whilst switching from “pig” to “crack” at every available opportunity (despite insisting that this was merely accidental and hinting that were my behind not so large it would have gone unnoticed). He is, quite simply, an unprintable word which rhymes with flosser or with dossier if you are French or posh. Now, before any of you get upset at the lack of decorum here, I would like to point out the following:

1. All humans have bum-cracks
2. Mine is quite nice, actually
3. I have seen worse...on women
4. My attention was fully focussed on the job at hand in order to cause as little pain and distress as possible to pig 2, and anyway, its nothing like a real builder’s one, so just watch the little piggy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x3NYP79lc2s

On a serious note, in my last post I mentioned the farmers’ preoccupation with the weather, since which we have had no further rain and the grass continues to be nibbled by our ever hungry cattle.  There are all sorts of considerations here beyond the length of the grass today as you have to be able to anticipate how much further it will deplete before we have any rain – then, how much rain we get will dictate the growth we can expect - and then, when will it rain again etc? And so the whole thing perpetuates depending on rainfall, and the outlook isn’t great. Suffice to say, that despite our ability to open a few gates here and there into currently untouched fields I have put a silage bale in a feeding rack for one of the three herds where the grass just isn’t there. Tomorrow another one will go in amongst 11 heifers I have in a separate field – not good at all.

This may sound innocuous enough, and true, we have 15 or so spare bales to hand from last year but it is an indication of how bad the situation is in general; everything growing outside in large parts of the southeast of England is being affected. For farmers this is a major concern, for the rest of you this could ultimately lead to a price increases across many sectors beyond the obvious commodities including milk, bread and beer. Worst case scenario as far as we and other livestock farmers are concerned would be the forced sale of animals due to insufficient grass and having run out of silage and hay, (possibly obtainable at massively inflated prices) which if you combine with many others in the same boat, equals rock-bottom sale prices at market and a financial squeeze and inevitable insolvency for some. Moreover, as with any adversity in the agricultural sector this tends to strengthen the supermarkets’ already unfair position as they will further benefit from buying their already low grade meat at lower prices.

There is, as you can see, more to the weather than the opportunity to have another barbeque or join most of south London on Camber Sands.  So in this glorious sunshine, forget the tan, whether or not its Pimms O’clock and go into your garden at dusk and rain-dance like you never have before!

Finally, keep the pig names coming in. We have had some good (and some not so good, Dave!) suggestions already. 

Name that pig!

Whether you grow cereals, peas, spuds or rear chickens, pigs or cattle, one fact about farming is that you will almost certainly become preoccupied with the weather...obsessively so, but with good reason. Right now I am talking about the almost complete lack of rain and the fact that the ground is already like cracked concrete in places.
 
I took the decision to let the animals out on the 17th April due to the unusually clement conditions (they spend the best part of the winter in comfortable 5 star barn accommodation, clean bedding, room service, "all you can eat" buffet). We were also running out of silage due to last year’s "thin" cut (nothing compared to this year at the rate we’re going!) so there was incentive to get them out to grass as soon as we could. The result being that the cattle have now eaten their way through most of the grass and if we don't get decent rain during what is still meant to be Spring, they will eat it all of the way down...which could be a problem - more on this later. This is being pushed to the back of my mind for now as I have more immediate, yet less serious matters to contend with, namely something which with quite reasonable trepidation I have called "Operation Pig",  plus the naming of two "gilts", which for your information are in fact sows/females which have not produced piglets, like a heifer is to a cow...essentially a "virgin" or "maiden" animal.
 
I actually have three gilts, two of which I bought in November last year and one which I have had for a few months which I am offering bed and board to for a local pub/restaurant, The Salehurst Halt - this is being taken to the abattoir next week and will end up on their menu. “Operation Pig” refers to the necessary tagging of this rather unique animal. She is moody, noisy and unfriendly and despite my best efforts, doesn’t even like the odd scratch or rub unlike her milder mannered sisters...she generally tries to bite me or squeal if I ever get near her, so quite how she is going to take to having her ear pierced by me, I don't know. I intend to try and video this on Thursday for your amusement. It might go well, it might not but it has to be done. I stress here that its completely painless, however, she is likely to take exception to me coming at her wielding what looks like a pair of large pliers with an eager, determined look about me. I really wish I had given her an ear-tag when she was small, fluffy, cute and approachable...
 
Anyway, back to the two gilts. These currently have the esteemed identities of pig 3 and pig 4 (pig 1, their brother, is in the freezer, pig 2 being the abovementioned strop-bag). I think its about time they had names and am therefore asking for your input. No restrictions here, give me your suggestions and I’ll draw two names out of a bag and they will for evermore carry these names. The only requirement is that you will need to become a follower on this blog and have your names in by 31^st May – naming will take place on 1^st June, whereupon I’ll take some photos of the pigs with their names and announce the winning namers!

Fresh start...

I have lived on a small family run beef farm in East Sussex on and off from the age of 11. When I was 18, I headed for the bright lights and the greed-driven lure of "The City" where I blagged my way into job and spent 20 odd years continuing to blag, bullshit, eat, drink and travel at various companies' expense. I did the odd stint in the US and Spain and enjoyed my time but my heart was not in the city nor the job or indeed another country and I felt the time approaching when I would need to jump while I still had the tatty, flapping remnance of a parachute. I managed to do this a couple of years ago and left my career behind and helped a friend with his business nearby until my father sadly died last September, 2010, leaving me fully responsible for the running of the farm overnight.

That was 8 months ago, since which we have had a harsh winter and 22 calvings (3 more to go!). We are now entering a new phase of the farming year and with the benefit of a little more confidence and experience I now have to take a good look at the farming practise, how to optimise it without compromising the animal’s wellbeing, and how to sustain a meaningful existence from hereon despite many of the odds being stacked against the small producer.

The farm consists of about 120 acres of primarily permanent pasture with a spattering of ancient woodland. My father always specialised in South Devon Cattle and as a result we have a suckler herd of 26 and rising. This means that all going well, we use our 2 bulls to get the 26 heifers and cows "in calf" annually, and raise their calves for either future breeding stock for our own herd or for sale at market for breeding or beef. This means we have anywhere between about 50 and 75 animals on the farm at any one time (we don't sell all animals within a year, so some of the previous year's calves are still being reared when the newcomers, their brothers and sisters, pop out!).

That's the simple, concise, overview of my predicament. Needless to say there is more to it. There is a considerable amount of documentation as regards the registration and traceability of the animals, their day-to-day care, feed, breeding, calving, cutting of grass for silage, farm maintenance, book-keeping and a whole lot more besides, most of which you will not be bored with. My aim here is to bring you into my life as a newcomer to managing a farm and share my learning experience with you. I have help twice a week from Robin, an experienced farm worker but aside from that its all down to me.

I will regularly update you as to my plight, I will ask you for input with various aspects including the naming of new born calves and piglets and show you as many relevant images as I can and make you aware of the day to day problems and considerations. You will hopefully begin to understand a bit about farming life, the difficulties of trying to make money and managing cash-flow and hopefully feel part of it in some way. There will be drama and mistakes as well as the odd success to keep you entertained.

I will hopefully make you aware of how difficult is to compete as a small specialist producer and how supermarkets and mass lethargy and ignorance on behalf of consumers is undermining the current traditional farming generation.

Finally, it's important that you understand my approach to all of this. We need to maintain solvency here, of course, however, we will not compromise the wellbeing of our cherished animals in order to do so. Feed and fuel prices continue to rise at a far greater rate than the beef price, so this is not easy. We consider “breaking even” by sticking with our ethos, a success.