I forgot to tell you about what happened with the sheep last week….

We had to move the sheep around so we could do the checks on the ewes feet.

Farmer and I had a little disagreement, so he went off on the farm and I thought “bollocks to this, I will do it on my own”

The lambs needed to go down to near where the ewes were, and the ewes needed to come up to where the lambs were.

The lambs, being my faithfully trained and gorgeous bundles of fluff were brilliant. I yelled Martha, the whole lot came running and followed me out of the field.

We marched down the Lane, sometimes slowly as the ones at the back faffed about like kids do but still we did it and I popped at 21 into the field. Martha refusing to leave my side until I handed over the bucket of snackies

Still, it went perfectly. And this bolstered my idea

The girls were there, already to move. Waiting at the gate. Easy I thought, because these are well trained, well primed ewes who know exactly where they are going.

That was my first mistake.

I shut all the gates along the lane. And thought… I can do this. On my own….

That was my second mistake.

I blocked off the exits. One with the mule, one with myself. All they had to do was come out the gate and turn left. Sheep love turning left. Easy.

They came out. Some went up the Lane. Maud, Kim, Blink decided that I was the better option.

In running towards me, they all came running towards me. I may be bulkily built but I am no match for 115 fat freaking ewes.

They ram past me and over the cattle grid, like it was the grand National and a mere minor obstacle.

Down the Lane they ran with me in hot pursuit.

They say don’t chase pregnant ewes. They never mention anything about pregnant ewes chasing you.

It was like running a marathon. Who was going to win, them or me

They won, because I was just not fast enough to get ahead.

They took the first exit they saw

Farmers rape field

All went trampling into the field. I’m thinking Farmer is going to kill me for this. One for moving them on my own. Two for his field.

The fat fluffy freaks decide that this is where they want to be and refused to budge.

My third mistake became rapidly apparent. No phone.

I leg it in the mule back up to the farm to find Farmer. He’s having a jolly time talking to the postman.

“The sheep are in the rape”, I bellow

He looks bemused and then his face turns to horror.

He grabs another vehicle and follows me down

I don’t think I ever sworn so much in my life, and I am normally a sweary Mary. The sheep won’t budge.

It took a good while to get them to exit the field, heading them back to where they came from. Half went back in the field, half went up the Lane.

This was the point I lost it. I hated the sheep. I hated the farm. I hated gates (or even lack of in places) i hated everything and promptly I bursted into tears.

Farmer took charge, taking the errant sheep on the Lane up and leaving the stupid ones in the field behind

The next day, he organised someone else to help him with the sheep (I don’t think I can be trusted again)

So if there are any lessons to be had from my sorry tale, take these:

1. Don’t do it alone
2. Don’t assume it will go to plan
3. Always have your phone on you

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More from @muddymuddymum

15 Nov
Do you ever think about the time before you had kids/got married and how you imagined it was going to be?

And now you’re like:
I’ll give examples for this:

Pre kids: My kids will never draw on walls!
With kids: let’s put a frame around that and call it art, shall we?

Pre kids: my kids will never spend all their time on computers
With kids: here’s the iPad, or do you want the phone, or computer?
Pre kids: my kids will eat a healthy balanced diet
With kids: I’m not eating anything orange/squidgy/vegetable or fruit related. When are we having McDonalds again?

Pre kids: my kids are going to wear all these cute outfits
With kids: ok, nothing white. Pls Stop eating your top.
Read 8 tweets
2 Sep
It’s time for our annual “operation toilet seat”.

If you’re unfamiliar with this story, it involves a certain person constantly breaking the toilet seat. We don’t know who that certain person is because everyone denies it but it happens once, twice & sometimes 3 times a year

This time I flipped my lid a little. The sad broken little toilet seat was left to fester for days before I discovered the torture it had been put through; broken hinges, it’s lid removed from the bum sitting device, it wasn’t even connected to the toilet anymore.

No one knew anything. No one was going to do anything. I waited to see if anyone would put the toilet seat out of its misery. Nothing happened. I told Farmer to buy a new replacement as it was getting embarrassing the amount of toilet seats I had to buy. But he was too busy.

Read 9 tweets
17 Dec 20
Some light hearted humour for you, feel free to add in:

Rules on the farm:

1. Sod's law states you will always need to pee after; putting on numerous layers; whilst wearing bib and brace; when your trousers are wet and stuck to your butt; when your hands are mucky.
2. Always make sure you have more than you need. Exact dosing quantities for the animals you have usually see you run out on the very last animal.

Let's pretend that didn't happen...

3. Don't take the swear words to heart. Working with animals/your other half/family can make us all sound like drunken sailor and our best loved pets can often be referred to with the unkindest of names. It's all normal.

And swear words DO help you to cope with the situation.
Read 12 tweets
15 Dec 20
A sheep thread ⬇️

Now some of you may remember I’ve got a stinking cold and sheep work to do today.

It didn’t start well.

First the mule wouldn’t start.

Then Farmer forgot me, or rather to help me get the mule, the bits and sort the race out again after the weekends clean

I’m in and out of the mule (once it finally started) opening and shutting gates.

Farmer gets a stern talking to.

Then our yard & road is filled with HiLine and Western Power vehicles who are here to turn the power off (oops forgot that)

One parked in the gateway to the ewes

So I have to walk it with the buckets of food. The girls mobbed me, really mobbed me. Normally this would be ok but with barely any energy, I struggled to keep hold of the buckets and to stay standing.

Get the girls around to the race, Farmer isn’t ready...

Read 7 tweets
18 Jul 20
Muddy dog is a bit whiffy at the moment, and moulting *oh the fun of having a dog!)

So I decided he needed a good brush and a wash...

But that never quite goes to plan...

So first the brushing. Except MD won't sit still. Plus he really lives the attention so he keeps trying to lick me with devotion. He has really bad dog breath (he eats shit, what can I sat) and he managed to tongue me. Dog breath tastes like it smells btw.

Not only will he not sit still, he also won't let me brush both sides because it inevitably means he has to face away from me at some point which will end the tongue licking session. Next thing I'm on top of him trying to brush both sides when he takes off and I'm riding him

Read 9 tweets

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