Vandalism!

The problem with hay, of course, that it burns with a fury that delights the arsonist. For this reason, we decided on three small stacks, rather than one large. Each was covered down in brilliant blue tarpaulin - far from environmentally friendly, but all we could afford. I'll point out here what most smallholders would assume - having bought the field, we were just about penniless... Today, small acreage fields are in great demand, and sell for well over the current price of larger units of agricultural land. It was days before disaster struck...

Perhaps the school holidays were drawing to a close, and boredom had set it... Whatever. One stack was quickly robbed of its tarpaulin, with the central square being taken away, we guessed for "den" building, as all the signs pointed to children or young people having done the damage. Country crimes are hard to solve, all we could do was replace the tarpaulin immediately, be thankful that the rick hadn't been burnt, and hope that the second tarpaulin would remain in place!

Incidentally, the police recorded the cost in terms of the vandalised tarpaulin - about £60. The cost of time to replace it - about 10 man- hours to finally track one down, collect it, remove the remnants of the old one and tie-down the new - and the resultant damage to hay from damp, were not taken into consideration.

Making Hay in the Four Days That Sun Shone!

2007 was a disastrous year for many hay makers. It rained with such perseverance that there was never a block of dry days that lasted long enough to cut and dry the crops. The unnamed field had finally become ours on 30th July, 2007. Fortunately, in the turn out, it had been grazed in the early spring by the previous owners horses, making the crop of hay late, Even so, it was just beginning to turn brown and become wind flattened. We waited and watched as the hay crop on other peoples land was lost or cut for silage, but that late start gave us the time we needed. It was mid August - two months later that that hay would normally have been cut. Four dry, sunny days were forecast, and with that "now or never" feeling, we called on a neighbour to cut; and as he cut, Simon began to turn and lift the thick crop with his own smaller tractor, an ancient grey Ferguson TE20.






In an all-out effort to get the hay dry before the threatened rain came, the little grey Fergie worked from the time the dew was dry in the morning, until it began to fall again at night... A very brave effort, considering that it had stood idle for many years before Simon bought it and got it running again.



That hay barely stopped turning... and the wind was just enough to ensure that it was crisp and bone dry in time to bale it on day four.



757 bales of beautiful, sweet hay! All that remained was to pick them all up and get them under cover. Sadly, the Fergie demanded a rest at this point. Enough was enough, it seemed. A flash of light and cloud of smoke from the dashboard told us that she'd done enough work for the week! So it fell upon my old Passat Estate to pull a trailer round the field and collect it, 8 bales at a reluctant time!

All Brushed Up...

All brushed up with somewhere to go! Rupert at his personal best. He always loves a party, and this show gave him ample opportunity to do what he likes best - show off! But doesn't he look sweet? It isn't often that he looks quite this white, mind...

Moulting Foals

The miniature shetlands lost their "baby" coat in handfulls in some places, and very late in others! It was soft and hard to keep free of matting, especially as they were forever nibbling each other - in the friendliest possible way, of course! As a result of this there was actually only about two weeks in the autumn when they were totally free of winter coat, before their new, coarser coat grew for their second winter. Between beginning of January (they were kept in over their first winter) and September, they looked seriously moth-eaten!

The Beginning

Rope Yarn Lane is a grass track, about a mile from our house. Nestled in the corner, between it and a single track road, is a 10 acre field. This field had been sown with arable crops annually until being grassed for brood mares about three years before we found it, in November 2006. Initially, it was our intention to graze my son's ponies on it, giving us security and freedom after renting grazing for some years. I also imagined that it would ease the burden on my time, because our rented grazing was not local.

But time passes, and things change, as they say. And between November and the following July, when we finally took possession of the field, things did indeed change. Tidying an very over-burdened garage one day, we found an ancient heavy wooden packing box - a relic from my husband's family's air force travelling days - that took two people to lift when empty. It nearly hit the bonfire - but instead, my son, Simon, fitted it with a nesting box and perches, and together with a run made from offcuts from the same source, the box became home to a free bantam cockerel, Floyd, pictured above, and a couple of Black Rock hybrid chicken, near point of lay. Little did the three birds realise, but they bought with them a new life for our family!

Sam and Storm

Welsh ponies (cob type, Section C) Sam and Storm at 9 months old.