And Then There Were Sheep

As the title suggests, we now have sheep! It’s been a bit of a whirlwind since we got them and I’ve probably experienced the hardest month of my smallholding journey so far, so it’s taken me a while to gather my thoughts and feel like I want to write them down!

This blog post aims to detail my sheep journey so far and a bit of an insight into how to try your hand at shepherd(ess)ing, from being a complete novice. As we did, always consult professionals, either experienced shepherds or reference books (Tim Tyne’s The Sheep Book for Smallholders and The Haynes Sheep Manual by Liz Shankland have been a great help). I would also recommend joining online forums and social media groups, in which you can chat to people in the same position as you (but remember many of these like myself are by no means experts!), but you will appreciate their support and kind words when it goes wrong and also encouragement when it goes well! There’s a lot to think about before getting sheep, so do your research!


On 18th April after much deliberation and searching we bought four Devon Closewool orphan lambs from a local breeder. Two ewe lambs and two wethers (castrated males). The plan was to keep the females for breeding and raise the males for the freezer. When we first looked into getting orphan lambs, there were lots of people who advised against it. It is hard work, they don’t often make it, being weak from the start and you end up becoming too attached.

Despite all the warnings, there were people who said it was one of the most rewarding things they have done and having tame lambs, especially in a larger flock can prove useful. After weighing up the pros and cons, we went for 4 orphan lambs, thinking that if we did lose any to illness or disease, that we would have ‘spares’. Oh the irony!

One of the reasons we opted for the Devon Closewool, was that not only was it a breed native to the area we were living, but that it is also a rare breed. We currently have rare breed Large Black pigs and also a couple of Silver Bantam rare breed ducks, so it made sense to maintain the current theme of our livestock. They are reportedly great sheep for first-timers, hardy and docile, described as an ‘easy-care’ breed. Also, they are the cutest looking sheep we could find, if you were to imagine ‘Mary’s Little Lamb’ these would be it!

So with a dog crate in the back of the 4×4 I drove to the breeder’s farm to collect them. They were being raised inside a barn on an ‘ad lib’ feeding system, a bucket with multiple teats so they can feed as and when they want to, ‘little and often’ much like they would with their mum. They were all varying sizes, one fairly big boy and one considerably smaller girl, the other boy & girl were somewhere in the middle. They were all around 20 days old (give or take a few days either way). They were a bit mucky, particularly a couple of their back-ends, something which I questioned. I was told that because they were in a barn, they are prone to lay in theirs and each others poop, so it was nothing to worry about.


Once I got them home, I posted on social media my excitement of receiving new lambs and a few people commented on their mucky bottoms and that I should get it checked out. I cleaned the ones which seemed to have the worst bottoms with a Hibiscrub solution and monitored to see if they continued with scour. They didn’t, so at this point I was happy and considering they had never seen grass before, let alone eaten it, this was also going to have an effect on their digestive system, so something to keep an eye on for sure.

The smallest girl had a case of ‘orf’, a disease similar to that of the common cold sore, very contagious to the other lambs and humans. In order to treat it with antibacterial spray, we needed to get the vet out for a site visit. She was happy with their condition, prescribed Terramycin (wonderful stuff!) and suggested that we worm them and start them on the Heptavac P system (will discuss in detail further down).


Feeding Time

The first few days of feeding took a bit of getting used to. We were in the process of moving house, so the lambs were placed in the portion of land behind our ‘soon to be’ back garden. We hadn’t quite finished the fencing yet, but we made an enclosure from several lambing panels which was more than sufficient, a temporary solution. Orphan lambs at 3 weeks of age need a milk formula (powdered milk mixed with water) at least 3 times a day (if not on an ad lib system). We bought a bottle rack feeder which you could fit four bottles in and a bag of Lamblac. They need about 2 pints a day, split into 3 feeds, so at 08:30, 14:30 & 20:30 I was prepping four bottles and driving them over to the field (about a 5 minute drive so not too far!). What I realised very quickly is when you are mixing up Lamblac there are some essential tools that you need:
– A mixing bucket, preferably with a pouring lip
– A whisk
– A measuring jug
– Weighing scales
– A bottle brush
– At least 1 extra set of bottles & teats!


Mixing Lamblac with cold water has a tendency to get lumpy if you don’t mix it into a paste first. Gradually add the rest of the water into the paste solution, constantly stirring with the whisk. I know this sounds as if I’m teaching you to suck eggs, but it took me a while to get the perfect consistency so it helps to know you can’t just whack it all in and whisk it, it won’t work!

The other thing I hadn’t quite prepared for was the lambs to be fussy over teats. The teats that came with the bottle rack pack, did not seem to do the job and none of them were feeding properly for the first 24hrs. I went to Mole Valley and purchased some alternative more rounded teats and this seemed to do the trick! Turns out lambs can be as fussy as humans when it comes to bottle feeding!


The next thing you have to consider when feeding orphan lambs, is they tend to gorge on milk. They’re hungry little souls and when a large amount of milk is given to them, they just want to gulp it all down. This can cause lambs to ‘bloat’ and in severe cases can cause death. It is good practice to interrupt their drinking, I did it every 10-15 seconds. They don’t like it and will try and jump on another teat if available, but breaking up their intake of milk is similar to what they would take from mum anyway, so completely natural behaviour.


I gave milk to my lambs up until they were 8 weeks old. They were getting some creep feed as well, about 4 cups twice a day at this point. At 7 weeks I dropped their lunchtime feed and then the last couple of days, they just got an evening feed. Some people recommend stopping bottle feeding abruptly, but this method worked well for us. Ours are 10.5 weeks old now and mainly on grass, but with creep and a salt lick supplement. At 12 weeks I plan to stop their creep and keep them as purely grass fed lambs.

The salt lick is something that sheep need because as ruminants they lack salt in their natural diet and need this to thrive and have a healthy immune system. They can also have additional mineral licks, specific for the type of sheep you have (breeding ewes etc) so it’s good to research which ones would be best for you.

Sick Bay

Sheep are prone to picking up different types of diseases from the ground, so as a rule it’s a good idea to keep an eye on their worm count, use preventative treatment for flystrike and consider immunisations for clostridial diseases, such as the ‘Heptavac P’ programme. This is the one that we used and it seems to be the most widely used and effective.

Although we started off with four lambs, we currently only have two left. The first lamb we lost was the middle ewe lamb, who I noticed was acting strangely when I went to feed them their lunchtime bottle at around 5 weeks old. She didn’t come to drink her milk and was very restless. Lying down, standing up, standing hunched over and her stomach looked quite swollen. I immediately thought it could be bloat and phoned the vets. They recommended that I bring her in.


They took her into the examination room and I waited in the car whilst they treated her. After about 10 minutes the vet came and got me and explained, although they too thought it initially could be bloat, it could be something else, something which this vet had only seen in cows. There were various options, including surgery, but at this point he wasn’t entirely confident that surgery was the best option, considering they weren’t sure what it was and whether surgery would actually rectify the situation. They had already given her some pain killers and then decided on giving her an intravenous injection to help ease the swelling in her abdomen. They shaved her neck and tried to find a vein on one side but couldn’t, so had to try the other side.  The whole time you could see that she was not doing well, but I just wanted the vets to help make her better.


Lambs and sheep can both die from stressful situations and this situation was particularly stressful for all involved. As myself and the vet were discussing what was going to happen next, in terms of the next dose of injection, one of the veterinary trainees noticed the lambs tongue had gone blue. They rushed her off the table and into another room to give her oxygen, but by that point it was too late. I burst into tears like an absolute sap, surrounded by 2 vets, 2 vet nurses and 3 students. They were all very nice to me and offered me a cup of tea. I agreed to have an autopsy so that we could establish what she had died from. The vet reported back that it was clostridial disease, a common disease of many strains that can be picked up easily by lambs, particularly by orphans that had not been given any immunity from their mums’ colostrum.

Heartbreakingly, this lamb had been given the Heptavac P (an immunisation against clostridial diseases) initial injection by myself about 5 days previous, but they don’t actually get immunity until the second dose, which wasn’t due for another 3 weeks. I think they call that bad luck. So I lost my first lamb and it hit me quite hard. I kept thinking about all the things I had done, all the things I hadn’t, but you can’t beat yourself up about these things, you just have to learn something and move on.


Unfortunately my run of bad luck hadn’t ended and the biggest of the four lambs, affectionately referred to as ’38’ as that was the number he had spray-painted on his side, suddenly dropped dead overnight at 7 weeks old. We had started to wean him, only because he was the biggest and having spoken to the breeder, they had begun to wean their biggest lambs. They had suggested giving him a bottle with just water in, which seemed to keep him happy whilst his siblings still had milk.


He had been experiencing a little bit of scour (diarrhoea) for about a week, which I was growing concerned about. Again, a call to the vets and they suggested that I take in a faecal sample to be analysed. There is a disease called coccidosis which is another deadly disease, but it is treatable. The vet analysed the sample and said although there was trace amounts in the egg count, around 15,000, the level of concern is usually when the count hits 100,000 or more, but in order to rule out this as a reason for the scour, she prescribed a course of treatment for ’38’ and also his siblings, just in case. This was an oral liquid treatment given on the Wednesday.

By Friday it seemed some of 38’s poops were starting to harden up, so I was hopeful that the treatment seemed to be working. All three lambs had their bedtime feed and the next morning I woke up to find 38 dead in the middle of the field. I was devastated, not another one! His eyes had already been pecked out by birds, so we had to move him to a place where he was safe from scavengers. We arranged with a local kennels for him to be disposed of legally, but this time decided against an autopsy. It was likely that the scour was an indication of something wrong, perhaps not what the vet initially thought, perhaps he had multiple things wrong with him, perhaps he died from the same clostridial disease his sibling had a few weeks earlier. Who knows. But as the old saying goes, where there’s livestock, there’s deadstock. Not very comforting, but a stark reality when farming or running a snallholding.

It took me a while to shake off the feeling of dread when going to check on the lambs, although it is still there a bit most mornings. I know raising orphan lambs is hard, everyone says it is, but I didn’t realise how hard. I think I have also been terribly unlucky and as a first timer and I have certainly experienced a very steep learning curve.

The Survivors


The other two lambs, Peanut (ewe) and Rambo (wether) seem to be doing well, although hopefully that hasn’t jinxed it! I have trained them (sort of) to the bucket, which hopefully means that moving them about is much easier, in theory anyway!


They are both full of character and incredibly tame. They have zero fear of our dogs (not ideal) and just want to play with them like puppies would! They love cuddles and scratches, and enjoy giving you a good sniff and checking you over for anything tasty. Buttons and shoelaces are a favourite to nibble on, but obviously I don’t encourage that! It’s lovely having them so close to the house, but if they hear my voice in the garden, they do tend to ‘baaaa’ the place down!


I genuinely didn’t think I would have so much affection for sheep as I do, so much so, we’re planning on getting some Exmoor Horns to add to our flock next week, so watch this space!




Springing forward

It has been another busy couple of months in Mid Devon, but today feels like the dark and cold of the seemingly endless winter, is slowly turning a corner. I did not wear my big coat out today, so spring must be here!

It has been a particularly wet and miserable winter. Everything is so much harder when it is just one big mud-rink of a sloppy mess. Even though on the cold days when the outside pipes are frozen, at least it means that the ground has momentarily hardened, making everything slightly less mucky, so you look forward to those days.

Usually the first signs of spring in the countryside are the daffodils sprouting up and the fields once again filled with sheep and new born lambs. Well the lambs came, as did the daffs, but the lambs were kept inside barns, whilst the daffodils wilted underneath the 4ft of snow we had. Then the snow melted, we were back to mud-fest and then the blooming snow returned again. It was hard-going!

Now even though I said I looked forward to the cold days (hard ground and maybe a bit of frost), snow days on the other hand are not something you look forward to when you have animals outside. You worry about their welfare, them getting enough food and water, and you worry about predators. The water which you re-fill, freezes instantly, so you have to continually top it up with warm water. Snow covers the grass and food containers, and the animals aren’t quite intelligent enough to know that their breakfast is hiding underneath all this weird cold white stuff. The chickens think anything over about 1 inch of snow is a completely impassable danger-zone, so rarely leave their coops. And then there’s the chore of actually getting water to the animals that aren’t in your back garden. The ones which are either an Antarctic trek away, or a very scary drive down roads which have definitely not seen a salt truck. Once you’re there, it’s up a very steep hill, no where near a working water source. It was a struggle to say the least, exhausting at times, but we got through it and have learnt some valuable lessons for next time!

It wasn’t all doom and gloom though, we actually made it away on an actual holiday! We went to visit my brother and his family in Palma, Mallorca. It was lovely! We had just gone from -5 degrees Celsius and 5ft snow drifts to a rather pleasant 19 degree sunshine, shorts and t-shirt weather! Between our parents and very helpful neighbours/work colleagues, the animals were well looked after and it all went off without a hitch. We count ourselves very lucky that we were able to leave the farm for a week and that we have some very generous family and friends.

Talking of the animals, the pigs are doing really well. They are full of personality and are growing excellently. They love a back scratch and will try and use you as an unwitting scratch post if you aren’t paying attention. Which is fine when you’re not ankle deep in mud and quite easily destabilised by a determined pig with an itch! Also if you bend down anywhere near them they think it’s an offer for a piggy back ride! Cue trotter mud prints on the back of your coat. Always an awkward explanation when someone points out you’ve got a muddy back!

The ducks and chickens are also doing well, despite the cold snap, we’ve been receiving at least 2-3 eggs a day, so I must be doing something right! We did have a chicken patient in the house for a few days, after a particularly nasty case of the ‘squits’. But after a few baths, and a few days inside, we think she had just been having a hard time laying an egg (potentially her first as she was last spring’s hatch), which did eventually pop out and after a few final checks, she was reunited with the flock.

Our Silver bantam female duck has been giving us the run-around in terms of teasing us with being broody and then completely changing her mind. She laid a clutch of 19 eggs in the hedge, then rejected them all when I transferred them to a safe nest box. Sadly when she rejected them, the crows took advantage of the situation and ate them all. Slightly disheartening to say the least! She currently has another load of eggs in the broody box, but on a daily basis changes her mind whether she’s going to sit on them or not. I’m not holding out much hope if I’m honest! So as a contingency plan, I’ve gathered some of the other ducks’ eggs and placed them in the incubator. Lets hope they don’t all turn out to be boys!

It’s been lovely seeing the lambs out in the fields this week, it’s really made me excited for getting our own. The sheep in the photos are of a tenant farmer who had some sheep lamb inside and also some which have been lambing out in the field, it is really wonderful to watch!

We ourselves are planning on taking on a couple of orphan lambs for fattening in April. I have contacted a breeder of some rare Devon Closewool Sheep, who is lambing at the beginning of next month and will hopefully have some orphans going spare. Luckily for us, he said he keeps the girls for breeding and we are more than welcome to the boys. The reason I’m pleased with this arrangement is that this reduces the likelihood of me getting attached, as another un-productive mouth to feed is not in our best interests financially! We agreed that we can take on ‘productive’ animals, so these first lot of lambs will be for the freezer, but there are future plans to have a small rare breeding flock. But baby-steps first!

Amongst all of this we will be moving house within the estate next month, as well as hosting an open day in the gardens for the National Garden Scheme. So the pressure is on from all sides in terms of trying to be as organised and efficient as possible! Unsurprisingly this means blog updates will again be few and far between, but I hope to keep the Instagram and Tweets going where I can!

Wishing you all a fabulous Easter break and think of me working 18 days straight, in one of my many sideline jobs as a housekeeper & private chef! Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll still get time to stuff my face with Easter eggs! #berudenotto

New Pigs and Old Enemies

A very belated Happy New Year to everyone. Christmas 2017 was hectic but good fun. It marked my first one as a Mid-Devon resident.

It also was the first time I cooked Christmas dinner for over 20 people in my new job. I think it was a success! I then had a week of organisation and tidying of my own house, as well as visiting friends and family around the country, before having the parentals over to stay for actual Christmas. Christmas Eve was slightly overshadowed by the glass of our wood burner cracking and falling out. Obviously being a Sunday and Christmas Eve, nowhere was open. So we persevered and heated the house with an open fire, not ideal considering the flue is the wrong shape, so most of the smoke did not escape up the chimney. Cue a collection of sore throats and stinging eyes, not the ideal way to spend the festive season. Despite that, we did have a lovely time, filled with lots of lovely food, good company and far too many presents.

The food was particularly a hit, mainly because of the pork, including sausages and bacon all from our very own rare breed Oxford Sandy and Black pigs. I know I am biased, but the flavour of our hand reared meat was second to none. Making your own ‘pigs in blankets’ for Christmas dinner was certainly an achievement, which we remain very proud of. Also, lots of people received bacon and sausages as Christmas presents from us, which although unusual, I think were received well.

One present that I received, I have to mention, mainly because it involves a future addition to the menagerie. The other half has agreed that at some point this year I can take on an orphan lamb (or two) for fattening. Eeek! It will involve bottle feeding 4 times a day in the beginning, but the cuteness will certainly take over the inconvenience. I’ve asked if it can move into the house temporarily, but this has been met with a firm ‘no’, so it will probably end up in a barn and then out to graze perhaps with our friendly neighbours’ pygmy goats. So watch this space!

The first week of 2018, unfortunately brought us some sadness. Our beloved rare breed Silver Bantam drake, whom we affectionately named ‘Yoda’ due to his beautiful green head, was taken by a fox. This happened in the middle of the day. We had him about 4 years, he was our only unrelated male and life-partner to Princess Layer, our white Silver Bantam female, so we were all devastated.

A few days later, 4 of our chickens also disappeared in the middle of the day. There were so many feathers left behind we were almost sure they’d also all been taken by the fox. I spent a good hour searching nearby fields and although I did find lots of chicken footprints in the mud, alas no chickens were to be found. One of the missing was my favourite cockerel Bow, a massive Cuckoo Maran, but his feathers were the most left behind. I feared the worst and assumed he died trying to protect his girls.

The next morning I was getting ready and I heard my bantam cockerel Rocky conducting his morning crow, and I thought to myself that I am going to miss him and Bow’s duet. Every morning they would have some sort of X-factor battle, trying to out-crow one another. Bow’s crow being much louder and erratic than Rocky’s, almost comical. As if by magic, I then heard Bow’s distinctive crow in the distance! I genuinely thought I was hearing things, but I threw on my coat and wellies and went off to follow his call.

I found him in a neighbouring farm’s barn, proudly stood on a stone wall, crowing in all his magnificent glory. By some miracle, despite losing an awful lot of feathers, he seemed unscathed and only had a couple of scratches on his comb. I think he was happy to see me and calmly let me scoop him up and I reunited him with the rest of the flock. About half and hour later, we then got a phone call from the person who owns the nearby barn, who said she had spotted another very cold looking chicken perched by her car this morning. I went to where she described and sure enough, there was one of our missing Gold Laced Orpingtons, shivering on the floor by the parked cars. Unfortunately she seemed a bit more shaken up than Bow and was not as pleased to see me. After about half an hour of trying to guide/chase her back to our garden, I resorted to using a fishing net to catch her. Whilst carrying her back, I distinctly heard another cluck from a nearby field. Sure enough, missing chicken number 3, one of our buff rock bantam girls, was also in the hedge of the nearby field. Another half an hour of crazy chicken catching, and I had recovered 3 out of the 4 missing chickens! I was so happy! They were clearly chased and dispersed by our familiar old enemy, and I imagine that the remaining missing Black Maran, was not quite fast enough to escape Fantastic Mr Fox.

The next few days we kept the entire flock (now reduced to 18) inside their enclosure, whilst we came up with a plan of action. We considered electric fencing, but it is expensive, not completely fox proof (nothing is!) and also would not only electrify the foxes, but also the chickens, ducks and our inquisitive dogs. Woody our lab cross is already petrified of the pig fence (after being shocked a couple of times) and won’t go anywhere near the woodland, I don’t want him scared of going into his own back garden. Luckily (or unluckily) a few nights later, Mr Fox did return, for the last time. Whether that fox was the fox that killed our chicken and duck, we won’t ever know, but what we do know is that there is more than one fox out there, but there is now one less. I appreciate that we are living in the foxes territory, I appreciate that they need to eat. But there are so many pheasants, rabbits and other rodents to feed them in their natural environment, they do not need to take our livestock. It is an emotive issue so I won’t say anymore on the subject.

Finishing on a lighter note, the New Year brought us new pigs. Three Large Black weaners. These rare breed native pigs are rarer than the Siberian Tiger, with less than 200 breeding sows in this country. They are often referred to as the Cornish Black, as the breed’s origins are from Devon and Cornwall. They are also referred to as the ‘elephant pig’ because new born piglets resemble tiny elephants because of their large ears and straight tails. Their hair is unusually fine, soft and silky in comparison to other breeds of pig.

We have wanted this breed ever since we decided we wanted to keep pigs, but we found it difficult to obtain the pigs locally. We still had to travel over an hour to get these ones, but I’m sure you’ll agree they’re absolutly worth it. We have had them about a week and they have settled in nicely and are getting used to the electric fence, but they are loving snuffling around in the undergrowth and are already fans of belly scratches. I have spent most of the last week in bed with the flu, so I am looking forward to getting better and spending a bit more time with my baby elephants…I mean pigs!

Farm dramas

I have just realised that it has actually been over four weeks since my last blog post, so apologies for the radio silence. Lots has happened, including quitting my job and currently being unemployed. Fear not though, there are plans afoot and I am in the process of being offered another job, with some side-line perks.

Our Oxford Sandy and Black weaners are now fully settled into the woodland and are loving life amongst the brambles. They were a bit more hesitant around us to begin with compared to the Lops, but they have certainly become a lot more comfortable in human company and currently enjoy a good ear scratch and back rub whilst eating their breakfast. Spoilt much?!




We have also experienced our first pig escape. I was at work, so I missed all the fun/anarchy, but it just goes to show you need to be extra vigilant when it comes to ensuring the electric fence is indeed electrified. No harm was done, to the two pigs that escaped or the surrounding gardens, and I’m pretty sure they thoroughly enjoyed their little outing. One of the pigs didn’t actually escape and was visibly upset that she was left behind and missed out on the others’ adventures. Let’s hope she doesn’t initiate another break-out to see what all the fuss was about.

We recently decided to make our own sausages, out of the meat that we got back from our first lot of pigs. We bought all the materials and machine, and spent a warm summers evening sausage making. For future reference, don’t pick one of the hottest evenings of the year to make sausages, it’s hard work and we had to keep refrigerating the meat to ensure it didn’t get too warm.

When making the mince for the sausages you need 1/3 of fatty meat (such as pork belly) and 2/3 of lean meat (such as shoulder or leg). As our meat came straight from the butcher/abattoir, it wasn’t all neatly packaged and diced, ready for the mincer. We had to spend a considerable amount of time de-boning it and removing any excess fat or skin. The meat does not look anything like our pigs, but whilst trimming away unwanted bits, my other half came across one of the pig’s nipples, still attached to the bit of pork belly. Although sometimes it is good to distance yourself from what the meat once was (for emotional purposes) this was a stark reminder that our pigs gave their lives to feed us, so it was a sobering but welcome part of the process. Also, no-one wants a pig’s nipple in their banger (as it were), so we happily removed it, only quality bits of meat in our sausages!


The whole process from meat preparation, to mincing, to actually filling the sausages took about 4 hours. 4 hours for 24 sausages is not a hugely economic way of making food, but it was our first time and next time we’ll be a whole lot quicker. We will probably prep at least twice the amount of meat in advance, so that the actual sausage making part is a lot slicker. It was good fun though (apart from all the stressful bits) and I would highly recommend it to anyone thinking of giving it a go. Gone are the days of sausages being filled with ‘lips and arsehole’ but good quality home-bred pork sausages are certainly something you can not beat.

Our first lot of Silver Bantam ducklings are almost a month old now and partially feathered. They are growing in confidence and under the watchful eye of their mum, doing really well.


We also have a second lot of ducklings, now about two weeks old, and they are still yellow and fluffy. Their arrival was somewhat dramatic (once again they arrived slightly earlier than expected), meaning that we had to set up an intensive care unit in the house. Cagney, our Miniature Silver Appleyard, was sitting on a nest of nine eggs. Six successfully hatched and when my other half went in to remove some of the partially hatched/dead eggs, as he went to throw them in the bin, one of the eggs started peeping! Slower hatched eggs usually mean they are the ‘runt’ and in the wild, survival of the fittest would mean they would probably not make it. Feeling confident though, my other half returned the egg to the nest in hope that it would hatch under the safety of mum. After a few hours, he returned to find the chick hatched, but it had been rejected by mumma duck. Fearing that it would die not being brooded (kept warm) by its mum, he rushed it indoors and placed it in one of our existing chick brooder boxes, under a heat lamp. It looked very weak and we were not entirely sure it would make it.


Fast forward 24hrs and it was fluffed up, peeping and stumbling/running all over the place. Success! We gave it another night in the incubator for extra strength and then my other half stealthily snuck it in under mum during the night, and she was none the wiser when she woke up the next morning with seven ducklings, instead of six. We aptly named this duckling ‘Seven of Nine’ (only Star Trek fans will get the reference) and although slightly smaller than the others, it is doing really well (always the one sticking close to mum) but you would never tell it had such a traumatic start in the world. Duck heroes do exist and I luckily have one living with me.

Other than that, life on the farm is as busy as ever, we have had several visitors and it is always nice to share with others, the lifestyle we have quickly become accustomed to. I can’t imagine exchanging this back for city life and I thank my lucky stars everyday that we have been given the opportunity to get stuck in with rural countryside living.


Which of course includes saving the occasional lamb from finding weird and wonderful ways in which to kill themselves. This one was lucky that on a hot summers day we were walking past, having just fed our pigs. Silly thing had gotten it’s head stuck in a fence and had been completely abandoned by the rest of the flock.


A bit of elbow grease, as well as kneeling in a lot of sheep shit, and this little guy was free to trot on it’s merry way to join the rest of the woolly suicide clouds.


Honestly, sheep are a nightmare to manage and are constantly getting themselves into mischief, often finding new ways to die on a daily basis. Which probably means it will no doubt be the next animal we end up getting….. #watchthisspace