Gilts and Barrows – Goods and Bads

A little girl pig is a gilt until she has babies then she is a sow, a little boy pig starts out as a boar and becomes a barrow after his wee operation.

The Kitchens Garden Farmy officially has six barrows and 2 gilts. The barrows will sell for less than the gilts but are also used as show pigs.  Though I will be keeping a few back for the freezer. Their ears are clipped with their registration numbers so when they sell they can be identified. 

We had more showers yesterday morning on my already soggy hay so I forked as much loose hay up into the truck as I could before my energy ran out and it (my energy and the hay) is on the barn floor  and draped on the pen walls drying. I just could not bear to watch the rain hitting my precious hay and do nothing. Even four truckloads is a fair amount of feed saved. The rest we will bale loosely today of we get some drying time, store it  outside under a tarp (in case of fire) and feed out straight away. Some we will haul up into the hayloft and I will cut the strings and let it spread out and dry up there also feeding out straight away.

The really good news is that after work John took all the information you gave him the other day about balers and scraped and cleaned  and sprayed the string tie thingy, we took it out for a trial run  and YAY! It worked. We baled 6 soggy unliftable bales and 5 of them knotted. Smiles all round. They were carried onto the concrete pad  and I will probably use them as door stops and draft barriers! Hopefully today there will be some drying done and we can get to work.  But there is rain coming in tomorrow for the week so today is the only day to clean up this field. It has to come off one way or the other.

The Lady Vet is visiting Queenie again today, with her bull in a straw. So if you have any fingers left to cross, please cross a couple for a successful outcome.

Boo was thrilled to discover that Minty and Meadow  had escaped. Then was  deeply disappointed when I called them and they followed me back into the field from whence they came with none of his wild herding skills required.

Sheila is on perpetual holiday now that she no longer hangs out with Charlotte. her chosen spot for yesterday was outside the chook house. She is hoping someone will lay her some breakfast!

I was watching the piglets play while the chickens scratched through their run doing some housekeeping and one of the little pigs made a cackling run at Son of Neanderthol Man from behind. The rooster shrieked and leapt into the air.

Of course Charlotte came roaring around the corner at the kerfuffle, scattering piglets in all directions,  and saw the rooster off.

Good morning.  As I was struggling with this wet hay yesterday, with the knowledge that I did not have enough gilts to sell,  and the sheep got out, and the peahens eggs under the chickens had not hatched and I was facing the limitations of doing it alone, and how was I going to get these lambs to the abbatoir with John working all the time then a huge piece of wood fell on my wrist and it began to swell and pulse, blood running down onto the fork handle and I was losing two acres of hay to the bloody rain, and I should be weeding and mounding the potatoes – I felt like quitting.  I threw down my pitching fork  and put my  hands to my face, blood running back up my arm and had a washing basket moment but instead of wet washing I sat in wet hay.

But you cannot just up sticks and quit. The food has to be brought in. The animals need a human. The human needs the animals. So. Whoever is in charge of  the weather machine could you please turn the knobs to hot winds and open the valves shortly.  And while you are at it turn OFF the thunderstorm warnings for the next six days.  And withdraw the dense dark humid cloud cover that is above me. That would be nice. Thank you. I need some hay drying weather. The farmy needs sun.

And as I have said before. The wonderful thing about the morning is that we have a chance to do it over.  The sun rises and we  start  anew. Every morning comes with a Good and a Chance. And I have been thinking in the night. A plan is coming to thwart the wet and save the hay.  It must come. We have to get it in to dry it.

Have a lovely day.

Your soggy brained friend, celi.