Neil’s blog

Or The Random Occasional Ramblings of a Seasonal Shepherd

Or more prosaically, A Shepherd’s Watch

I suppose I started writing this as a sort of log/reflection of this year’s lambing in the hills of North Wales. The more I have written the more I have tried to explain the techniques and the personal experience. Maybe at times it is too graphic – so be warned in advance and if you are squeamish maybe best not to read a lot more.

Friday, 6^th March, 9.30pm. Held up leaving the St Peter’s LOMVC Concert. Damn. Every minute counts in getting to North Wales at a suitable time. Flashed by a temporary speed camera on the M25 – oh well – it’s a while since I had any points. For some reason passing the Watford Gap Services before midnight holds some significance, though I’m not sure what. A quick stop at Corley Services – change from choir uniform to shepherd’s garb in the toilets and grab a quick takeaway coffee – I can save the Red Bull for another time. Onward. Overhead signs on the M6 indicate that it is closed between two junctions – with only junction numbers I haven’t got a clue if that is part of my route but suspect it is. Have to consider shelling out an arm and a leg on the M6 Toll. But wait – junction T8 is closed on that route. Stick to usual route through north Brum – and it works. But now a diversion on the M54 adds about 15 minutes to the journey, taking me through villages that remind me of my good friend Jude who died from complications from cancer a few weeks ago. Sadly she won’t be visiting me in Wales any more. At Llangollen the traffic lights on the longest single-lane roadworks in the world add a further 5 minutes to the journey. 

But once through Llan it’s more Alan Prost than Neil Frost – the A5 winds up and through the Berwyns, no street lights so it’s easy to see if there is any oncoming traffic, and a few minutes are saved as I cane that 2L Audi engine through the curves (ok, it’s a Skoda, but can you tell the difference?).

Veer right off the A5 soon after Corwen and I’m almost ‘home’. A climb up to Bethel, few more sweeps and swoops down round the last few bends (especially since someone who’s headlights occasionally appear behind in the distance seems to be trying to chase me) and a quick right off the road into ‘my’ farm track (that will fool whoever is a few hundred yards back in the bends!). Up and down, across the river, up more, and eventually the lights of the sheep sheds are in view. Priority now is to light the log burner, put the chilled food in the fridge, and before any further unpacking, as it is now 3.30 am, go round the sheds to check for any newborn lambs. That will save Rhian having to get up for this shift and she can sleep till 5.00 am.

Monday, 9^th March

Hehe. I’m just passing the biggest of the sheep sheds, where the ewes are getting excited as it is nearly feeding time, and Mick Jacks calls to ask about LOMVC Charities Concert tickets. The background sound effects couldn’t have been better orchestrated and Mick seems impressed. I suppose it is surreal.

Tuesday, 10^th March

Although the image of ’lambing’ is probably of cute little lambs being brought into the world, much of the work is actually about ensuring that all ewes and lambs have food and water and clean bedding and are moved to the most appropriate place for their onward development. There is lots of lugging feed and water so any relief from carrying heavy buckets of water is welcome and one of today’s tasks is to see if I can get a constant water supply into ‘The Triangle’ – a small field the ewes and their lambs go to before they are put out into the bigger fields. I know where I can put my hands on some pieces of plastic waterpipe and a rummage in the ‘odd pieces that might come in handy one day’ bucket allows me to source what I think I need. Drill a hole in a used animal feed supplement container and I have all I need. Create an adaptor from an old piece of sewer pipe to connect to the earthenware overflow pipe from a small brick-built water tank up the hill (probably at least 100 years old and still going strong) and I’m in business. A reliable flow of water from the end of the pipe 20 meters away gives me what I need. The overflow, using another piece of redundant pipe, will be branded as an affectation too far, but it will mean that the area around the ‘drinking trough’ won’t become muddy.

If there is time I try to nip down to the local town, Bala most evenings. It’s a good evening if I can park outside of Barclays Bank as it means I can use their wifi, download emails and respond to them - and have a chat with Karen who is constantly on FB. It’s good to touch base with her – always some humour and interest, and a reminder of how different things are here.

Thursday, 12^th March.

The first lamb of a set of twins is needing ‘assistance’ finding its way out into the world, so my hands are somewhat mucky. The mobile phone rings; here’s a dilemma – which hand to use to answer the phone and press it to my ear! It’s Martin from the choir, wanting to chat about the recruitment campaign. Rhian’s arm goes where mine was a few seconds earlier and I chat to Martin who seems interested, rather than phased, when I describe in some detail the birth of the lamb; he even sends his regards to Rhian! What a smoothy!

There’s a ewe with twins born overnight but she only has one side of her udder working (so only one place is available). She won’t be able to feed the two twins effectively and I’m looking for a potential adoptive parent – a strong ewe due to give birth to a single lamb. To be effective the new mother has to think she has given birth to twins – so the adoptee is made as wet and smelly as possible using the ‘byproducts’ of the birth. Lots of smearing and massaging of ‘byproducts’ into the adoptive lamb and I move him and the mother’s new-born lamb together and am pleased to see her paying almost equivalent attention to both lambs as she cleans them up. I think the adoptive lamb must be giving the game away as within seconds he’s under his new mother guzzling like there is no tomorrow while is new sister is still only just learning to stand. But mum seems to love them both. Here’s hoping.

Friday, 13^th March

A busy morning with practically every undercover space being put to good use as the weather is very wet and there is no option to move any of them out into the fields while it remains like this. In the middle of ewes and their lambs being moved into their optimum accommodation, releasing space for the new-borns, a string of single lambs are born, taking up the spaces we are trying to free-up!

11.30 am. A check round the sheds before grabbing a quick coffee. All quiet and none of the ewes showing any signs of lambing soon.

12 noon. Another quick check to see that all is well before getting some lunch. Damn! I arrive at the ‘doubles’ shed to find a ewe struggling to give birth. Grab her with a rugby tackle and assist the lamb into the world – a fairly easy delivery with front legs nicely presented and the ewe dilated sufficiently to make it possible for the head to come out with only a small ‘pull’. Clear nose and mouth and some swinging to get any fluid out of its lungs. No need to ‘search’ for the following twin as it is arriving already. But the legs that are coming out are back legs, not front ones! It’s a breach. Usually I would phone for help as it is easy to damage and even kill the lamb if not delivered skilfully, but I’m going to risk it. A bit of internal investigation to get the tail out and wishing someone was watching my level of skill, I pull and twist and successfully deliver the lamb backwards. It needs quite a bit of mouth-clearing, straw up the nostril and chest pounding, but coughs into life and I welcome it to the world.

Just standing back to feel clever and allow the ewe to recover from the trauma and bond with her lambs and I spot a ewe in distress. No need for a rugby tackle as she remains where she is. It’s a ‘head only’. Search around for a leg and find one that I can pull out. I can just get a finger behind the other shoulder so here we go, a gentle pull and out comes a very mucky lamb – this poor soul has spent far too long waiting to come into the world. And its twin is close behind - unusual as they usually get the first born dry and on its feet before delivering the twin. A straightforward delivery this time – two front legs and out it comes. Plenty of coughing and struggling and it becomes an independent sentient being.

Oh, this has stopped being fun – now there’s another ewe down and ready to give birth! OK, get on with it. All fairly straightforward. One more set of twins.

Now to pen them all, check the mother’s milk and ‘doctor’ them (meaning an antibiotic injection, a squirt of stuff down the throat and a liberal application of iodine to the umbilical cord). All goes well. Each mum has lots of milk, bonds well with her new lambs and enjoys some fresh water and a treat of some hay.

It’s ‘shower’ evening. Sadly no ensuite, so its improvisation again.  An old bucket, some odds and ends of pipe fittings, a washing machine valve and hose, and a shower head from the Pound Shop. Plenty of hot water from the kettles on the fire and it’s (almost) luxury. And that beard – growing since 1^st September – has to go. Too difficult to keep clean under these circumstances.

Saturday, 14^th March

My foster-family of two days ago seem to have bonded well, and an important right of passage occurs as I mark the twins and the ewe with a stock-marking aerosol as a family – the first adoptive family of this season are my proud ‘A1s’ and head out to the fields.

Not surprisingly, people question WHY I spend four or five weeks per year in such a strange environment doing such a relatively unusual thing – and today is no exception as a good friend who calls on my mobile seeks to understand why as an unpaid volunteer I put myself through the lack of sleep, strenuous physical tasks, and mud muck and gore all over the place while living in such a basic place. It’s a question I ask myself! Basically, I suppose, it is good to experience something so very very different to my usual lifestyle for a significant amount of time. I like a challenge – and surviving the experience is good in itself. And I like to become more skilled – and year on year that seems to be happening. And there is something very grounding about being part of the experience of bringing so many  new lives into the world. I never cease to be amazed by the change from that the mucky lifeless thing I pull from a ewe to the cute, woolly, animated, noisy creature that is standing and suckling its mother only 30 minutes later.

Sunday, 15^th March

Turning over metal feed troughs onto a concrete surface in the yard only a few metres from where I am dozing contentedly really should be banned (and when I mention it in passing later on I am not entirely convinced that it WAS the work of a helper who just happened to be passing through!). But the phone is doing its ‘I’m going to wake you up in a while, but as you instructed here is the pre-amble alarm to the actual alarm’ thing and it is 7.30 am and time to get up.

As far as I can see Rhian seems to have fed everyone, and appears to have gone back to bed (she deserves it – she’s probably been up since 4.30 am) so I check round the sheds for any new arrivals, or warning signs of new arrivals, and finding nothing, with a biting wind making it fairly nasty outside, and my back is aching more than usual at this time of day, head back to my warm bothy. Heaven.

However, too much sitting in my comfortable-ish chair could become a habit and annoying as it is, duty probably calls, and after 45 minutes it is time for another ‘new birth patrol’. 

As it wasn’t long ago that I went round, and there weren’t any early-warning signs then, so I can’t imagine there will be any new arrivals. But my imagination is wrong as, arriving at the ‘doubles’ shed (ewes scanned as carrying twins) I spot a ewe with two lambs; clever girl, did it herself as nature intended; no indignity of having some human feeling around in places a hand is not designed to go. Just about to move her and her lambs into a pen in the adjoining hospital (she doesn’t need hospitalisation, but there is plenty of room there and it is an easy place from which to move her on) when I see another lamb, or could it be two, elsewhere in the shed? I sort out mother No 1 and fetch the two (yes, it is two) new-born lambs, taking them through the gate into the hospital too. Trouble is, two ewes follow, both believing that the lambs are theirs. They could be – one each and one more each to be born. But what is more likely is that one of them is still about to give birth, thinks that she has, and is licking ‘her’ new-born, while the real mother, not really sure of what is happening, looks after lamb No 1. I suspect it is a case of the latter, but if I get this wrong, leaving a wrong lamb with a wrong mother, there could be problems later. Judgement call – disturb Rhian from her deserved slumber or risk her later irritation with me if I get it wrong. Go the safe route, call Rhian. To give her her due, Rhian never shows any sign of displeasure whenever I ask for her help at any time of day or night, however soundly she might have been sleeping. In an instant those many years of experience enable Rhian to diagnose that ewe No 2, despite showing all the signs of attachment to one of the lambs, and with sufficient stuff hanging out of her back end to suggest otherwise, hasn’t actually given birth yet. No messing around here, despite the fact that letting nature take its course might mean a wait of an hour or so, Rhian ‘pulls’ both lambs and we now have three new sets of healthy twins. Rhian goes off to make up some milk (all the ewes are in milk, but Rhian likes to give new-borns a boost) and I doctor the six new arrivals. Yet another threesome in the doubles shed!

I reflect on the fact that I was once a bit squeamish about giving injections, carefully rolling a fold of flesh and pressing the hypodermic needle in gently before slowly depressing the syringe plunger; now, in one move, I can stab the needle into a suitably fleshy area of the lamb’s leg, almost simultaneously depressing the plunger and delivering ¾ cc of antibiotic. Similarly, my speed in getting the Spectram tube down the lamb’s throat and pressing the plunger to deliver the correct dose has improved. And as for the iodine on the umbilical cord and navel – it must be at least a day since I got iodine all over my hands as well! If this sounds a bit cruel, the ‘get it over quickly’ approach is probably much less traumatic than my previous ‘caring’, but taking-a-long time, techniques.

I like to refer to my accommodation as my ‘bothy’. For many that will conjure up an image of a remote rustic dwelling built into the hill, made from tree branches, a peat roof, earth floor and open fire. Maybe a sheep dog in the corner and a weakly lamb in a basket beside the fire. The reality doesn’t match up to that – it’s basically a 12’ x 8’ garden shed given to me, new, by my good farming friends Gwil and Rhian. They also provided insulation and internal cladding which enabled me to make it my ‘home’.

Several rather old lengths of 2.5mm twin and earth electrical cable, joined within some rather dodgy, cobweb infested junction boxes, are strung between the farm buildings, eventually ending up about 20m from my bothy. So I’ve installed a further length of new 2.5 twin and earth cable, within some old water pipe (yes, more old water pipe) to bring the supply to a consumer unit in my bothy. Luxury – lighting, and power for a small hob, toaster, microwave, electric blanket, TV and satellite receiver. It remains a mystery to me why the ‘trip’ at the source of the electricity supply hardly ever ‘trips’, given the number of opportunities for water to enter the system.

Yes! I have a telly! Thankfully whoever installed the satellite dish (terrestrial is useless in these mountains) installed one with sufficient outlets for me to be able to avail myself of one, and 70 meters of cable later, passing through barns and sheep sheds and underground, it feeds a satellite receiver in the bothy.

As well as farming Gwil and Rhian have a number of holiday cottages which occasionally get refurbished, so I was able to take advantage of redundant items such as a sink and sink unit, ceramic tiles, laminate flooring (three types) and a section of bunk bed which, to Rhian’s concern and despair, I have installed about 3’ off the floor, giving me plenty of storage space underneath.

Running water? A water main runs through the paddock (“Neil’s field”) and a few plastic pipe fittings, an isolating valve and sections of pipe later, the main enters the bothy. Waste from the sink? Redundant pieces of waste pipe take the waste water from the sink across the paddock and into a soakaway (that was some dig); it hasn’t ever overflowed yet; maybe the moles have given some assistance.

Toilet? No, not in the bothy. A rather traditional corrugated iron privy a few steps from the bothy door. Yes, it can be very cold so there is no hanging around out there, and there have been several times when the water in the toilet has frozen overnight!

And the very best feature, which makes staying here so much more bearable, is the wood-burning stove, again provided by the lovely Gwil and Rhian. A constant supply of hot water from two kettles, always on the stove, is not only useful, but the whistling kettle provides a vital early-warning that the fire is burning too hot.

Talking of accommodation (which I was at the start of the ‘bothy’ theme) makes ‘shelters for the lambs’ spring to mind. If the weather is bad they look for shelter and if none is easily available will push down rabbit holes and so on. So all available shelters are brought into use – the canvas cover and frame for a  pick up being ideal when fronted with an upside down bit of an old cattle pen!

6.30 pm. I combine the ‘go to Bala to do emails outside Barclay’s’ trip with the opportunity to chat with my sister. Di has visited and helped out on a few occasions (pink wellies, long painted nails) and she knows not only the reality of hill farming life, but also the idiosyncrasies that working with Rhian involve. She shows an informed interest and her empathy is appreciated when we talk each week!

Monday, 16^th March

The wire netting fence I am installing keeps being pushed back by the wind, and each time I get it into place this gale force wind pushes it away. There’s a struggle going on and I’m not exactly winning. Then reality licks in – it’s a dream (Vanuatu?) and the struggle is between the ‘get the f**k up and check the ewes’ from the phone-alarm and my desire to remain asleep. The alarm wins and I realise that I’ve overslept by 5 minutes. It is 1.05 am. Damn.

Get dressed quickly – but ensuring that I have enough layers to stay adequately warm if I need to stay out for a long time – and head out on the rounds. One voice in my head is saying “please don’t let there be anything I need to deal with so I can get back to bed soon” and a more rational voice is saying “the sooner these ewes give birth the better – especially given the 100 more about to start lambing in a day or two”. It’s a fairly easy shift; one lamb already born to a wild young ewe who makes me work hard to catch her and practically throws me out of the pen when I sit her on her rear to check her milk (reasonable, really – it’s not very dignified having human fingers doing what a lamb’s mouth should do). The lamb looks practically big enough to go to market tomorrow and I’m pleased she delivered it herself – that would have been one hell of a ‘pull’ getting it out.

6.30 am. I can hear voices outside and they are speaking in English so my hunch is that Lester, who takes a walk across the hills every morning, has called by and is helping with the feeding – good man, Lester!

8.15 am I thought it was too good to be true! I’d done my first round soon after 7.30 am and all was quiet. Just settling down to a bit more Blog-writing and Rhian calls on the mobile. We chat about what we both did overnight. I had a birth; she had a death. Oh yes, and could I just a) mark and move some ewes and their lambs to ‘behind the mesh’, b) feed the ewes in The Triangle and The Garden (it must have been an excellent vegetable garden when the house was in operation as a farmhouse), c) walk round the Front Field and ensure there is a lamb with each ewe d)….  e)…

Well, in truth that’s what I am here for so mustn't grumble! And it will give Rhian an opportunity to catch up on some much-needed rest.

And within an hour and a half it is all done.

I possibly need to introduce Rhian in more detail. She is, in its most literal sense, and extra-ordinary person! Fiercely Welsh Nationalist, Welsh speaking of course, and from a hill farming background. And probably the hardest-working person I am ever likely to meet. And idiosyncratic. A heart of gold, massively caring of her animals (which is one reason why we are caring for five pregnant blind ewes which would probably have been shot by other farmers), and somewhat scatty! Normal logic stops at the farm gate!

Rhian knows full well that I am vegetarian, and often when I visit them at their ‘home’ farm some eight miles away she’ll give me fried eggs, fish fingers etc. while others have meat. However, what I still struggle to understand is the occasional delivery of a Cornish pasty for my lunch. “It’s got vegetables in it, Neil, and the butcher makes them fresh” seems to be the justification for it being appropriate for me. I have to say, with some baked beans, they are good pasties!

What Rhian doesn't know about the implementation of her type of sheep-farming probably isn't worth knowing, and she has been an excellent mentor to me, putting up with my occasional stupidity and lack of judgement and acknowledging my successes (although more and more they are taken for granted). I now know not to question things that don’t make sense to me as she always has an answer to justify her point of view.

A further mentor is William (not his real name; for some reason that I don’t understand, and have never bothered to find out as it doesn’t really matter to me, William has to remain incognito and can’t be seen by certain people while he is here – which he is for considerable amounts of time each day). William has spent his life in sheep farming, with much of it being the ‘lambing out in the fields’ approach (which we don’t do at Hen Hafod – they all lamb indoors). William passes on nuggets of information and experience and is, in any case, a jolly nice chap to work with.

Still can’t make up my mind how clever or stupid some sheep are! Frequently a lamb will try to take milk from a ewe other than its mother – and the ewe will instantly butt the miscreant lamb away. So the fact that another adoption technique works baffles me slightly. A twin lamb died (probably of septicaemia) and we had another lamb, from a mother with twins but with insufficient milk, needing to be adopted. Within a few minutes, with just a penknife and an axe, Rhian has expertly skinned the dead lamb, making a well-fitting woolly jumper for the lamb to be adopted. It’s stitched into its new clothes, put to the ewe, and after 12 hours of being together the foster mother seems to have fully accepted it as her own.

Going to have to do some washing soon! This used to be a challenge with few facilities, but is now made somewhat easier since we discovered an old spin drier in a store. It didn't work, but a quick strip-down revealed the problem and it now works well. And rather than just hearing the water gurgling down a pipe at the back of the automatic washing machine, isn't there something more satisfying seeing it coming from the spout at the front (did we used to put a bucket or bowl under the spout?!).

Tuesday 17^th March

Just one set of twins overnight; already born which was easy; a flighty mother who would not be caught or penned easily made it more of a challenge.

And another set of twins for me this morning. Mum was showing all the signs that she was ready, and the two legs were there for me to pull, but that opening into the world was not going to make lamb-birth easy (or comfortable for the ewe). Huffing and puffing, screams of pain from the ewe, but together we managed it and she did all that was needed to make her first lamb clean and strong enough that within 20 minutes it was feeding. 

In the natural world a ewe expecting twins would deliver the first, and ensure that it was warm, standing and suckling before lying down to give birth to the second lamb. This girl did just that, but again the way into the world was holding things back and even more huffing and puffing (and screaming) was needed to get lamb number 2 pulled. A big lamb, but it made it.

DIY errands to do. A few years ago I made probably what was in retrospect an unwise move by fixing a broken rechargeable torch, a cooker hood and an infra red lamp. So I am now Mr Fixit. In my time here I’ve plumbed in new sinks, installed new lights, hobs, ring mains, lighting systems, fixed smashed electrical fittings in barn roofs, mended badly-leaking pipes in outhouses and so on!

Today’s first task – fix broken electricity meter cupboard door in a holiday let in Bala. Well at least it gives me the chance to get my first trip into the outside world during daylight hours for over a week! An easy bodge job with the help of some copper wire and judiciously-drilled holes.

The people in the holiday cottage near my bothy are due to go to Chester and will potentially be away for three hours. Plenty of time to get in and install a second-hand dishwasher that has been found surplus to requirements elsewhere. Damn, they’ve left the washing machine running and I need to double-up on its water supply. Wait for their smalls (bigs?!) to finish, and nip in. I’m armed with all the right parts, so apart from the struggling to get the washing machine out across an uneven slate slab floor its plain sailing. Test both and there seem to be no leaks. Very tempted to put my washing in the machine but the electricity is metered and they are paying so best not to take a chance – though heavy hints tomorrow might save me having to do it by hand.

Bethan, Rhian’s daughter who is married to a hill farmer, and lives further into the Snowdonia National Park, sends a dozen fresh eggs over from her farm. Fresh eggs are so different to those bought at the supermarket. Poached eggs; scrambled eggs; luxury.

Wednesday, 11^th March

A quiet night – I think the first night when I have had no new births at both 10 pm and 1 am.  But kicking myself that I didn't take more notice of the clear night sky and the potential Aurora Borealis. Damn. Wake to the usual sounds of trough-clanging; well at least it’s a sign that I can have 30 mins more rest.

Take a stroll round the various drinking water schemes and all is working well. The Aswan Dam is looking especially good and feeding the trough further down effectively.

Seems like it is going to be a good day for drying washing (as my landlady, Mrs Corfe, in Liverpool used to say “There’s good drying out”) so a decision to forego the heavy hints and do it by hand is taken. A couple of water-buckets, and the trusty Belling Safespin and I’m in business. 

A lamb climbs through to join me and I’m tempted to give it a wash in the soapy warm water. I’m sure it would come up a treat. But I don’t want the others taking the mickey out of it, especially since the washing liquid claims ‘freshness that lasts and lasts’. I’ll be well-impressed if this washing liquid delivers a freshness to my clothes that out-competes the usual smell of woodsmoke and sheep.

Rhian heads off to her day job as a farm secretary and reminds me to call her if I have any problems. Check round the sheds, all is quiet, time for breakfast. 

A second sense tells me to stop enjoying relaxing after breakfast and take a look around. Sure enough, there’s a ewe expecting twins with a huge water-bubble hanging out of its back end; a good portent of things happening the way they should. Keep an eye on her. Back in 20 mins. Maybe this is time to intervene as there has been no further progress. Turn her on her side and ‘investigate’. I can find two front legs and start the usual ‘pull’. But the head doesn't come through the way it usually does. I use all the techniques I know and I'm not getting anywhere – apart from distressing the ewe and potentially the about-to-be-born lamb. Call Rhian at work and as always she says she will come straight away. 5 minutes later she is here, her smart office clothes covered in her waterproofs. Rhian makes me feel somewhat silly by making the birth look easy. However, my reputation is somewhat saved because there is another ewe I want her to look at and this is a real dog’s dinner of a mess. We are not sure which legs Rhian can find. Could be one back and one front; could be two back; doesn't look like two front legs which would be ideal. Rhian searches around inside for clues; is that the tail? Could it be backwards and upside down? (I am so glad I have not done any investigating myself as I can’t be criticised for messing things up!). Heave ho. Rhian pulls and twists and a rather mucky lamb comes out backwards, but is alive. Rhian returns to work.

Don’t want to have to call her again, but my next challenge is, well, a challenge! A ewe with not just a lamb’s head showing, but a lamb’s head fully out. Take it easy, Neil. Use your knowledge and the techniques you have picked up over the years. I do. “Hook your finger behind the shoulder” a voice in my head says. I can’t find the f**ing shoulder! Time goes by as I delve around, the lamb looks tired, the ewe is distressed. Take stock. Carry on and maybe kill the lamb and damage the ewe? Or call Rhian? – maybe too late for her to help. Try again. This time I find a leg which I manage to straighten. Pulling a lamb with one leg and a head out isn’t advised but I’m going to risk it. (I am so glad my ex-boss JC can’t read this as he would potentially use this statement to prove that I take unnecessary risks!). Pull the leg, ease the other side of the shoulder, and at this point the ewe helps and hey presto the lamb comes out. Rapid action needed to get this lamb breathing. Clear mouth. Pound chest. Straw up nostril. Splutter. Cough. We’re there! A big lamb which, in 20 minutes is suckling like a pro.

The Quad Bike (“the Bike”) is a superb piece of kit. Not quite as nimble as a sheepdog, but nevertheless pretty effective rounding up sheep; brilliant for carrying sacks of feed and bales of hay, a real time and energy saver getting to the higher fields; and let’s face it, a boys’ (and girls’) toy that is irresistible!

Thursday, 19^th March.

A very cold night, and a set of twins at 1 am. No aurora!

Some inconvenience for the morning feeding as the water-buckets have frozen as has one of the standpipes. And that makes washing hands after delivering lambs pretty uncomfortable!

Stroll around the paddocks and fields armed with my shepherd’s crook - somewhat predictably a piece of spare blue plastic water pipe! It is almost as good as a ‘real’ crook, especially good at guiding ewes to their new quarters, or separating families, the missing ingredient being the crook itself which would make catching lambs much easier.

Not sure if it is a change in my pain threshold, but by this stage of lambing I am usually on maximum pain killers (alternating ibuprofen and paracetamol as recommended by my lovely one-time colleague Jan). And currently I am pain-killer free.

By now there are loads of lambs making good progress and today’s sunny weather gets them skipping around; they are such fun at the ‘springy legs’ stage!

Squirrels are a real problem. Not just because they open the feed sacks and cause the food to be wasted, but also because of the other damage they do – including gnawing through the toilet roll in my privy(!), damaging wiring, eating through the flexible calor gas pipe and so on. So a further task is to trap them; William has caught twenty in the past few months. We’ve tried all sorts of bait from peanuts to fruit salad, peanut butter to jam. Thought I’d been lucky today, but my catch was not really the one I wanted!

The ewes we brought in a few days ago started lambing today so there’s been a major move-around, some doubling up in some sheds where numbers have dropped, and 71 ewes expecting single lambs have just been brought off the hill. Never a dull moment!

Anthropomorphism is an interesting aspect of animal husbandry (Google it!). Of course I don’t expect the ewes to understand the ‘buon appetit’ I say to them as I measure their food into their food containers, but I do know that my dog, Gelert (good Welsh name!), understood quite a range not only of words, but expressions and moods, and appeared to respond to them in a way that had human qualities.

And whereas many ewes are fairly antagonistic when I am in the pen with them injecting their lambs with antibiotics and so on, there are those who seem to adopt a demeanour of ‘let’s work in partnership on this’, seeming content that we do this together! And it is really difficult not to give extra food to those ewes which look warm and friendly, nuzzle my hand or look longingly into my eyes! (sheep really do look you directly in the eye!). And there is definitely a shared word – ‘meh’ – which when used while carrying their lambs gets them to follow on behind, whereas a lack of ‘meh’ means they are far less likely to do so.

Friday, 20^th March. Eclipse Day.

Saw bits of the eclipse using my homemade pinhole camera (I didn’t teach Physics for 23 years without knowing how useful they can be!); apparently Wales was one of the best places to see it. And although it might just have been the high cloud clearing, it felt like the sun was getting a lot warmer on my back as the moon moved away from the sun and as I watched a ewe getting ready to lamb. Much better pics on TV, of course.

Last night was another cold night, and the ‘girls’ were a tad noisy as I went round at 1 am. Tried ‘Oh Men From the Fields’ as a lullaby, but that didn't help at all – maybe it needed Dave doing his solo. ‘Starry Starry Night’ worked better, and that reminded me that I’ll be missing yet another LOMVC rehearsal this week when some more modern pieces will be rehearsed. I really must download the rehearsal tracks and start practising – if only there was time! A CD to play in the car would be so helpful, especially as I am planning a few hours off tomorrow to go shopping in Wrexham!

Noticed a Facebook comment from my sister Di, saying that she was missing being here but not missing the lack of ‘home comforts’! What can she mean?! I am surrounded by home comforts, several provided as a result of Christmas or Birthday money she or my nephew Ben and his wife Anna have given me. My most favourite at the moment has to be a halogen oven. Brilliant. Now I can do more than just boil things on the hob or heat things in the microwave!

Crows have pecked a weak lamb to death out in the fields. B***ards! I suppose it is nature writ large, but seeing them stalking the lambs, looking for any sign of weakness, just feels like it is wrong. At least its skin has made a woolly jumper for a lamb that would otherwise have struggled if it had stayed with its natural mother.

Two friends have said they might be visiting. Must think about cleaning and tidying my hovel/bothy/shed! Dan from Heybridge will be first – I'm planning on trying to get him to deliver and ‘doctor’ a lamb or two! Then a few days later my long-time colleague Bryan will possibly be visiting again; I think I am in with a chance of a home–made loaf!

It was on this day two years ago that it started snowing.At first it was attractive. There was a romantic sense at night as the flakes of snow fell outside, picked out by the lights of the sheds, and hew lambs were born in the relative warmth of the sheds. But day by day more snow fell. 

I needed to get out to go south for a night (LOMVC Concert) and while it was still possible I parked my car at the bottom of the hill. Then one night it chucked it down. The main roads were blocked, our lane to the farm was blocked by a 1.5 metre snowdrift. Any thought of driving south was abandoned.

The intense cold that accompanied the snow killed thousands of lambs across North Wales. We were lucky as most of our ewes and lambs were in sheltered places, or indoors, and only a few died. But the colds and snow continued, as did births of lambs. The pressure was on as we had to find more and more places to accommodate lambs and ewes which would otherwise have been moved on and out. It was difficult to get sufficient water to the stock as the water pipes kept freezing. Then we started running out of food – for ourselves and the sheep. And I started running out of logs for my fire! Tragedy!

The main roads were eventually cleared, and a dear soul from the village, now sadly no longer with us, drove up to the bottom of the lane and broke through the snowdrift to get to us, bringing vital basic supplies. After a few days warmer weather brought a thaw and we were at last able to access the outside world again, restock, and take things slightly easier than the 13 hour non-stop stints we had been forced to undertake.

Saturday, 21^st March. Spring equinox.

Not happy; the ewe in the paddock outside my bothy bleated all night long. I slept fitfully. But at least when I returned at 1.50 am, at the end of the the 1 am shift, that irritating ‘ABC World News Tonight’ wasn’t on the TV to send me to sleep – rather the familiar tones of ‘Click’!

An opportunity to go shopping today, so after the usual rounds, and a quick ‘twins’ delivery – no milk on one side – it was wash and shave, clean clothes, breakfast, and off to Wrecsam. 

A 60 miles round trip, and hour each way. Lovely weather and a beautiful drive across the Ruthin moors, through Coedpoeth (Fred Schofield was once biiieted here) and then a view across the Cheshire plains and down in to Wrecsam. And the timing of my journey allowed me to enjoy two of my favourite Radio 4 programmes – Saturday Live on the way out and The News Quiz on the way back. 

A slightly strange experience being in the midst of so many of the great unwashed (lol – who am I to refer to others as the great unwashed!). In the supermarket a lot more English being spoken than I am currently used to. At last an opportunity to have a choice of things that I actually want to buy and at much better than ‘Bala’ prices, and to be tempted by, apparent, bargains. Interesting the see the regional variation in availability/unavailability of certain items. There seems to be a much higher proportion than I am use to of staff picking orders for delivery – I guess home delivery must make sense for many in such rural areas. Or maybe its just that I’m not used to shopping mid-morning.

I try to hide my various displeasures and prejudices around supermarket customers, and don’t even notice whether or not able bodied people, who are much more important than anyone else, are parked in the disabled parking bays rather than walking a few more yards from other available spaces. But I clash with a few who just have to open that packet of crisps or can of drink as they walk around the shop. Leave it, Neil, its not worth it!

Looking for socks I notice a bargain – a half price superman onesie in my size! The image of doing the rounds at night dressed in my superman onesie and wellington boots has me roaring with laughter and several nervous parents draw their children closer to them. No, I didn’t buy!

Another very enjoyable drive back to the bothy and when I arrive I am greeted warmly and with interest in my trip. I almost feel like an explorer returned from afar. They've been waiting for me to get back so that they can take feed to the stock out in the fields, so with practically no time to pack any shopping away, I take over, quickly ‘pulling’ a pair of twins, and feeling like I was never away.

Try to take a humorous pic for our LOMVC recruitment campaign of a lamb answering the phone to a potential new recruit. Not sure it works…?

My friend Andy has been in touch. He has checked my house in North London; still standing and nothing on the doorstep or poking out of the letterbox. That’s a relief.

Having done my shopping I can now create some of my ‘own brand’ hand-cleaner (I use a lot) – 45p economy hand cleaner with a few drops of lavender oil and a couple of drops of Tea Tree Oil (that will please Karen, I’m sure!) – another luxury (or home comfort?)

Snowdonia and the Berwyn have long been used as training areas for the RAF and fairly regularly jets come screaming up the valley, sometimes with one appearing to chase another. 

We seem, in this last week, to have seen just about every class of warplane that must be based at RAF Valley on Anglesey! From a huge four-prop bomber, flying low enough to see the pilot (and recognisable as an Airfix model I'm sure I made when I was a kid), through the fast jets to a futuristic delta-wing screamer that looked like it could nuke Bala to bits! Additionally we regularly see the Air Ambulance (there but for fortune; a must in areas like this which are so remote that road transport can potentially take far too long), and the Search and Rescue helicopters (although no longer a salute for them now that that Prince William is no longer flying them!)

Sunday, 22^nd March

A fairly standard ‘overnight’ with two more sets of twins for me, one dead lamb for Rhian.

Woke up to a very cold morning – water frozen in buckets and the standpipe, making feeding and watering longer and more arduous. But with such clear skies there were advantages in some excellent views.

Very grateful for my warm fire in my bothy (note the smoke from the chimney!).

Each day now seems to fade into the next and I generally don’t really know what day it is without checking my watch. 

That’s apart from Sundays. From mid morning onwards the valley reverberates to the sound of motorbikes, singly and in large groups. I understand the attraction. Short straights, winding bends, hills and valleys – adrenaline-raising experiences. At least one fatality per year occurs on the local road. On the road to Wrecsam yesterday a sign advised that there had been 87 serious collisions in 5 years.

The warmth of the sun helps even some of the weakest lambs to enjoy their unexpected trip to the outdoors and for the ewes to take advantage of Dr Green (the grass)

A pleasant end to the day!

With so much feed and other consumables being used, and rubbish generated, there is a regular need to dispose of it, and a fire is always considered a good option – and is my job! Although just setting fire to piles of rubbish would burn most of it, I need a hot fire to deal with the less desirables ‘burnings’ – carcases of dead lambs, and afterbirths (of which there are many – one per lamb, of course). 

So techniques learned in the Scouts come into play and, to the ‘oh goodness, another affectation’ of my onlookers, I build a decent conical fire from any available twigs and fallen wood. The outcome is a hot fire which is far more effective in ‘despatching’ the gory bits. Funny that, despite being a vegetarian, once a lamb carcass gets roasting I find its smell is mouth-watering!

Monday, 23^rd March.

Nothing for either Rhian or myself overnight although there are still duties to be performed at 1 am. Two sheds contain ewes which are fairly densely packed and as such they need extra feeding overnight. A double-edged sword! It is a challenge getting amongst them and putting hay along the hay racks – the ewes can be very enthusiastic. But at least once done the ewes are lined up eating, back ends displayed, and it is very easy to spot any that are potentially ready to lamb. A daytime view of what I am describing.

Oh dear! Major goof. I am checking round before having breakfast and I spot a ewe ready to lamb in a shed that has until recently contained ewes about to give birth to single lambs (that will give the clue to where this is going). So I ‘pull’ the lamb, check the ewe for milk (fine), move her and the lamb into a pen and jab, squirt and ‘iodine’ the lamb. At this point Rhian appears. “Has she had them both?” Penny drops.  Blue spot on her back. This shed now contains ewes which will have twins. This lady still has one more lamb to be born. A quick delivery and all is then in order. Not good for my shepherding reputation though!

Welsh sheep shed and field names have been an interesting issue over the years I have been coming here. Some are easy and memorable (Llechwedd and Cae bach) but others have defeated me and an agreed Anglicised vocabulary has developed that means we have a common understanding. So ‘Double Gates’, ‘Behind the Mesh and ‘Mole Hill Field’ (despite the fact that it is a paddock, not a field and this year there are no mole hills) now describe places we all understand and agree!

Apart from the three or four weeks when they are brought indoors to lamb ‘the girls’ live out in the fields, up the hills, on the mountain. The usual drinking water for most of them is from a burbling stream or rock pool. So drinking from a bucket or trough is a new experience for some of them, and only a ‘once per year’ experience for others. They suck water into their mouths by pursing their lips, the way one might drink through a drinking straw; and they gulp loudly too! But some seem to go into a trance when they get the chance to allow water from a tap to dribble into the side of their mouths; funny to watch.

Not happy this afternoon! The usual pattern of afternoons is that from about 3pm I start feeding, watering and ‘haying’ the ewes with their lambs in pens, in the two Stack Yards and the surrounding paddocks. During this time William and Rhian go up into the hills on the quad bike to feed the ewes that have been moved on. They usually get back in time to help me finish the pens and we then all feed ‘en masse’ the various sheds (between 15 and 40 per shed), letting each set out to eat while we straw and ‘hay’ the shed before the ewes come back in. Yesterday William had to leave early and Rhian had visitors – so I was left to do it all the feeding by myself. A bit back-breaking but fair enough.

But today William and Rhian got held up – two ewes seemed to be missing when they were up the hill. So for a second day running I've had to do the whole lot! The life of a seasonal shepherd, eh?! But another pleasant sunset to compensate,

Very unusually I am eating my evening meal when called to help Rhian - who has been doing her final round before I take over. She has come across a ewe trying to deliver a breach lamb. 

The drill is that I hold it up vertically by its back legs with its head on the ground (back-breaking or what?!), meaning that everything inside sags downwards, and Rhian’s arm goes in almost elbow deep to find the appropriate legs to pull. Rhian always doubts herself on this and is always successful, even when the lamb is a breach. Rhian gets hold of the two back legs, we put the ewe back on the floor and with a twist and a pull a lamb comes out backwards. A bit of vigorous shaking and puffing and it comes to life. The next lamb is not far behind, and the right way round, and it is pulled successfully. 

As it is Rhian’s shift she is left to do the doctoring and I go back to my meal and to send a text or two.

Tuesday, 24^th March

Another very quiet night. Frost on the ground as I go round at 1 am, and I anticipate frozen water in the morning – but by then it has warmed up. Tonight’s round has to be a record for me – I get round all the sheds, checking each ewe, put hay in the hayracks in two sheds, and am back in my bothy in 16 minutes. A pity it still takes me 45 minutes to get back to sleep.

Some confusion in the morning’s round as Rhian thinks I am out checking and she thinks I am. And between us we miss the birth of twins, the second twin being a breach. But all is well.

However, the issue of ‘markings’ returns, and to some extent my reputation is restored as 'someone other than me' has not noticed that the ewe we struggled with last night, and had twins, has now had another lamb! She was in fact marked ‘green’, but neither of us had noticed in the dim light. Green means ‘triplets’! They are cute, and healthy, but with only two places available one will need to be fostered out.

Later, a turn of events allows the fostering, although not in the best circumstances. A ewe expecting a single lamb has had one, but by the time we find it it is dead. So we select one of the triplets and rub the ‘triplet’ lamb with the dead one. But after a while mum is not convinced and Rhian has to do the ‘woolly jumper’ business to get the foster mum to accept the triplet.

And during his rounds of the fields William finds one of our early twin lambs dead. Inevitably it has been pecked by the crows.

The death of a few lambs is brought into sharp relief with the news that in another range of mountains 150 people have died in a plane crash.

Typical spring, mountain weather today with hail, heavy showers and sunny spells in quick succession. At least we get a bright rainbow out of it!

We go through a lot of feed! Every two weeks (ish) Corwen Farmers Ltd deliver 3 tonnes of feed; that’s about £1,000 worth. I really don’t know how hill farmers make any money. And respect to the delivery guys who not only arrived at 8pm on a Friday evening, but offloaded 3 tonnes of sacks making it look dead easy. Just watching them finished my back off!

Bala is the local town I tend to drive to each evening – and as long as I can park outside Barclay’s Bank I can use their free WiFi which is excellent and allows me to update this blog, send and receive emails and catch up with Facebook friends!

Full marks to Barclay's! (Their free pens are good too!)

And I generally can’t resist a trip to the Coop (biggest shop in Bala!) to suss out any bargains (old habits die hard!). Having gone straight there I'm in my ‘farming’ clothes and Wellington boots. Not sure if I am considered ‘bohemian’ or ‘yokel’, but felt pretty chuffed a couple of evenings ago when at the checkout I was asked in Welsh if I needed a bag! (they are 5p each in Wales, of course). Yay!

In my view (sorry, residents!) Bala is a bit of a one-horse town. You can do a three-point turn in the main street without anyone noticing ot being inconvenienced! On Sundays there's probably more likelihood of tumbleweed rolling through the town than a car driving down the main street!! 

Wednesday, 25^th March

I woke up feeling dreadful - hot, sweating and sick. Flu? A fever? No, neither thankfully. There is no time for illness here. Having turned the electric blanket on when I went out for the 1 am shift I had failed to switch it off when I got back. Doooh!

A busy day with an assortment of challenges and straightforward deliveries. Thankfully all live births.

Two of the triplet twins are doing well and on the various stages of getting into the outside world.

‘TT’ for ‘triplet twins’! 

Unfortunately their brother isn't doing so well with his foster mum. Of all the milk choices he doesn't like the flavour and the foster mum isn't so keen on him and butts him away. So mum has been restrained so that it is less easy for her to stop him suckling. Seems cruel, but it usually works.

We are in our third week of lambing now. Thankfully the weather hasn't been too bad, but the lambs have been slower in coming than usual. Tempers aren't exactly frayed, but we are starting to get a bit irritated from time to time and there can be a tendency to a ‘blame’ culture, meaning that we perhaps cover our backs more by asking for help, rather than just getting on with it which we might otherwise do.

However, the mood has been lifted today as a result of Rhian, when leaving this morning, telling me that “William will be along to help you a bit later on.” Hehe! I asked for that statement in writing as William was born into a hill shepherd family and has been shepherding all of his life. The thought of him helping me – rather than me helping him – was funny. I told him he was to be my helper when he arrived – and luckily he took it in good spirit and it lifted our mood throughout the day.

The Mole. I had quite enough fuss caused by a mole of my own last year. But here there are always a different type of moles around (well, under) the fields, and often one or more in ‘Neil’s Field’. And this year the little blighter has decided to burrow near and under my bothy – meaning that damp earth is pushed up against the wooden floor, which will eventually rot. 

And it has also pushed up earth in a small gap in the paving slabs between my bothy and the loo. Cheek. The gap is far too small for a mole trap (there are several around, but that seems a bit extreme, even if they are ‘instant’ traps). So I have decided to experiment with ‘natural deterrence’. It worked with foxes when I kept poultry! Like many males of the species I have been marking my territory! Put more precisely, I have been peeing into the burrow made by the mole! Mr Mole came back through for a couple of days but after four days he seems to have stopped. Result! Maybe I could have hastened the effect by eating some asparagus!

Thursday, 26^th March

After a few easy overnights last night was a little more ‘normal’. A ewe ready to give birth to a single lamb at 10 pm. She was not happy being caught and far less happy giving birth, especially as it was a ‘one leg and head’ presentation. And even when her lamb had been doctored and she was penned with her lamb she didn't really think it was hers for a while. But she had plenty of milk and eventually the concept of motherhood dawned on her and she licked her lamb clean and allowed it to suckle.

And at 1 am a ewe expecting twins had me waiting until she was ready to produce the first one. It seems to me that a bit of a chase round the shed helps to get the lambs closer to being born and by the time I caught her there were hints of a couple of front legs. Perfect, she cooperated as her first lamb was born. However, a bit of an internal examination showed that her next lamb was way back and would not be ready for a while. Dilemma. What to do? Stand and wait or go away and come back. Option one chosen, and as the rain fell gently outside I waited for her to ‘bring the lamb up’. After probably 15 minutes I reckoned she was ready – with the thought of my warm bed, and the need for more sleep, I certainly was! – and it was a fairly easy job delivering the second lamb. Again, plenty of milk and this time a lovely, natural, mother. Off to bed feeling that it had been worthwhile.

Snow on the mountain across the valley when I woke up. Wet and muddy here. It is ‘rent day’ when Rhian needs to be at work promptly to receive the rent from the various tenants of the estate she works for. This always causes tension for some reason, principally because it will be a day when I cannot call Rhian away and reinforcements are summoned just in case there are problems.

Of course there were not, but it was refreshing working with Rhian’s husband Gwil; I always enjoy talking with him and he has a range of skills and tips which he is happy to pass on. Gwil reports that we are not alone in the lambs coming slowly this year; apparently it is common across the area.

And Gwil’s visit means that my birthday cards are delivered on the right day! My sister, Di, and nephew, Ben, have both sent cards and gifts – which is very heart-warming; an Amazon voucher and cash are most welcome; and I get texts from a few friends too.

I don’t suppose that 20 years ago I would have imagined that I would have spent my birthday as a shepherd on a hill farm. But I'm pleased to be a ‘baby boomer’, re-writing the rules and overturning stereotypes!

Rhian has realised that it is my birthday and promises a special ‘panned’ (tea break) before we finish the afternoon feeding. I look forward to the special treat. It’s an apple pie from the baker’s, not Mr Kipling! Oh well!

Dan, who lives with his partner and young son on a boat near mine is hoping to call by tonight and stay overnight. He’ll be in his campervan. I hope the weather isn't too bad. I’d like him to have a good impression.

Friday, 27^th March

Dan arrived at exactly the time I had predicted – 11.30pm last night. He seemed tired and I wasn’t expecting him to join me in the 1 am check. But at exactly 1am Dan was ready to see the set up and we looked at the ewes in each of the sheds. Only one lamb, already delivered by its mum, so we only needed to do the doctoring.

The day was spent undertaking the usual chores. Dan is a natural and picked up the various techniques and tasks very quickly. 

Where appropriate Dan’s dog Rosie joined in – and showed something of her Labrador/Collie heritage with a pretty good sense of herding sheep and no concerns at all about her worrying the ewes or their lambs.

It seemed that Dan was not going to see any births, but eventually a ewe had had one lamb before we got to her but as a ‘blue spot’ was expecting twins and Dan got his first view of a lamb being born. Not sure he was really expecting what he saw!

The chores for the morning involved quite a lot of moving sheep around, and again Dan soon proved himself to be a natural.

Dan spotted a ewe about to produce a single lamb, and with camera-phone at the ready prepared to video the birth. I hope anyone who sees the video doesn't regard it as a typical birth. It wasn't my finest hour; very difficult to ‘pull’ this lamb and the struggling and attempting to get the lamb’s head out were not my best examples. However, a healthy lamb was delivered and Dan learned about the doctoring process which he took to like an expert.

It was a shame that he had to leave so soon to continue his journey to Betws y Coed and a weekend of mountain biking. Spending the day with Dan, and Rosie, had been refreshing and pleasant. The weather had been good and the experiences pretty typical of any day here. Dan seemed to enjoy his time and is talking about returning next year with his partner and son.

I reflected on the fact that I spend 22 ½ hours of every day, week on week, on the farm, seeing typically only two other people, and even when I am away from the farm it is only to do emails and update this blog, and say a few words to the cashier at the minimarket (who continues to speak with me in Welsh! – love it!)

Martin from LOMVC called. Good to hear from him and the background sounds of ewes and lambs baa-ing and bleeting must have sounded impressive.

The clocks go forward this weekend – that always causes some confusion about who gets up when to do what! The bottom line for me is that we get one hour’s less sleep!

Saturday, 28^th March

A fairly busy night! Woke up feeling very groggy when the alarm nagged me at 12.55am. And regretted buying those bargain basement mirror tiles from Ikea as I saw my reflection in them as I got dressed; oh dear.

Two single lambs and two sets of twins kept me busy for an hour or so and with the rain starting I was pleased to get back to my warm bothy and my welcoming bed.

I played it totally wrong at 7.30am! Allowed myself an extra 5 minutes slumbering as I heard the rain hammering down on the roof, and got up expecting that most of the feeding would have been done and that I would be able to potter around doing a bit of ‘infill’ feeding here and there, then have a leisurely breakfast. Wrong! None of the feeding had been done and it was ‘start from scratch’ in the pouring rain and howling wind, ducking and diving around what Rhian wanted done. Hard work, nasty weather, getting soaked despite my waterproof jacket. 

I had made two mistakes! Thinking I wouldn't be out for too long I had not topped up the wood on the fire, and not realising just how stormy it was I had not put on my waterproof overtrousers.

I returned after two hours cold and wet and tired; thankfully the fire could still be salvaged and give some almost instant extra heat. A change of jeans needed, though.

A day of drudgery! Atrocious weather meaning that very few lambs and ewes could be moved out; and the new lambs continued to arrive unusually regularly throughout the day. Much moving of already-born lambs and mums into a range of shelters and sheds, doubling and trebling up, and consolidating in order to accommodate the growing numbers indoors.

So at feeding time there is lots to do, fetching and carrying much more food, hay and water, and bedding, than usual. Seemed to go on and on. Back aching, wellington boots leaking. Rain on and off. But at least we started very early, and have finished earlier than usual.

So I am now indulging myself in the luxury of a mug of peppermint tea, a cut-price apple and pecan twist from the Coop, and a footbath to both warm my feet up and clean them! How is it possible for small leaks in my wellies to allow so much mud in and through my socks?!

I had a series of text conversations earlier in the week with my lovely next door neighbour, Irene. I think her view that this lambing life might be a bit too challenging for her would certainly be confirmed by today’s conditions. Not even a decent sunset to enjoy!

Unsure, given discussions during the day, what time the checks will take place tonight. Despite my best endeavours to explain that the sheep won’t have an hour’s less sleep, or that their tomorrow will not include an extra hour’s daylight, and that the change to BST should mean that we could just do everything an hour later by tomorrow’s timing, I believe I have been unsuccessful! Oh well!

Sunday, 29^th March

Totally confused about what day it is and had to check my watch to confirm!

The 1am (actually the 2am) check was fairly easy, although a huge ewe had me beat and before I even started to ‘pull’ the first of two lambs I had to call Rhian. In a way I was pleased to see that she struggled at least as much as I had in the video Dan made. And the twin was so far back that it was going to take a return visit from Rhian in an hour. But we took the opportunity to look at a small ewe that Rhian was worried about. Something was wrong, but Rhian could not decide what.

Up and out at 7.40 am (body thinks it is 6.40 am – far too early!). Lucky that I have my best, almost ebola-proof, waterproofs as it is a foul day. Heavy rain and strong winds. I join in with some feeding, regretting have to go as far as the Mole Hill Field as carrying food and water that far, and so early, is going to kill my back. It does.

I act on the suggestion that I take a break for breakfast with enthusiasm. Trouble is, it seems to me, that meal times here for humans are treated a bit like feeding the sheep. Prepare food in minimum time; eat food; carry on with other tasks. So I am only just warming up and drying out (it gets pretty humid in those waterproofs), and enjoying listening to Broadcasting House on the radio (especially today’s contributors to the newspaper review) when it is time to cut this small pleasure short and get back out in the maelstrom.

Rhian is still worried about the sick ewe. It is a small, weak-looking sheep. Rhian believes it is really a no-hoper, but she is going to take it to the vet as she can’t really find what is wrong with it, believing that it is probably carrying a dead lamb. I suggest, only half tongue-in-cheek, that it should be shot, since taking a sheep to the vet on a Sunday is not going to be cheap, and the ewe hasn't got a lot going for it. Rhian’s answer helps me understand why I enjoy working with her and why I can forgive her various demands and idiosyncrasies. “I don’t smoke and I don’t drink.” Enough said. Rhian can indulge herself paying for the treatment of a no-hope ewe because that is the way she chooses to spend her own money. Got to admire that.

Rhian puts the ewe in the boot of her BMW (!) and heads to the vet’s; the weather continues to be dreadful. I am reminded of the many times I have been in the mountains of North Wales at this time of year with young people undertaking Duke of Edinburgh Gold expeditions. And in similar conditions. And I recall those of them who after walking 50 miles over four days, in these foul weather conditions and worse, said at the end of it words to the effect ‘if I can survive that I can survive anything life throws at me’. Resilience. So important. I take the same message from that and battle on.

With such wet conditions there is a need for lots of extra bedding (= straw) to be added to the pens and sheds. Doing this is a bitter-sweet experience. The upside is that there is some respite from the pouring rain as I ‘shelter’ under the tarpaulin that covers the straw bales gathering sufficient straw. The downside is that bits of straw get everywhere. And I mean everywhere! Not quite Laurence of Arabia/sand, but pretty close!

I have what I regard as a cunning technique for distributing the straw in the larger sheds. Generally the ewes get in the way as I shake the straw. They try to mob me and eat the straw as I am shaking it onto the ground, making it a frustrating task. So my technique is to create a few mounds of ‘shuffled’ straw around the shed and then create a mini-stampede of sheep through the mounds. Perfect distribution!

At lunchtime the grim weather calls for a little luxury, so I break out a treasured can of Heinz vegetable soup rather than the Tesco Everyday Value tomato!

To return to anthropomorphism! ‘Play’ is a developmental phase that many animals undertake, exploring the world and each other in relatively safe surroundings, and lambs are no exception. They play in large groups in the field, chasing each other round and ducking and diving, taking turns to be the leader. But today I catch a pair of lambs that seem to be a naughty pair! Baaing and bleating is par for the course. But it seems to me that these two lambs are teasing an old ewe a few sheds away! One of the lambs bleats and they both listen. A ‘baa’ comes back. They look like they snigger at each other and the second lamb bleats; they cock their heads waiting for the reply. Sure enough, the old ewe replies. They chuckle again and it’s the first lamb’s turn. This ‘game’ continues for ten minutes until the lambs’ mother decides its time they had a drink.

Somehow I have had a 7pm check added to my schedule, and sure enough, rather than being able to get on and cook my evening meal, the birth and subsequent doctoring of a single lamb takes rather more time than I had wanted.

As it is Sunday it is probably well past time to have a shower! So my improvised shower system is brought into use, with a black tub, originally a drinking tub for cattle, as my shower tray. It works quite well as long as I remember to keep my elbows in.

There is to be no respite tonight as the 10 pm check has me busy with another ‘single’ and the 1am shift does not disappoint either. Firstly a single lamb, already born, so all I need to do is check mum’s milk (not a lot – mark the pen for Rhian), put them in a pen and doctor the lamb. Next I spot a ‘double’ with a bubble. This means that the birth process has started, but the birth could be within minutes or in an hour or two’s time. I decide to carry on round the sheds and come back to her. Damn, a single lamb has been born to a ewe in another of the ‘doubles’ sheds, meaning that there is another lamb due to be born. With fairly minimal ducking and diving I catch the ewe and with a confidence that would have surprised me several years ago I undertake the internal examination needed to find whether or not the birth of the next lamb is imminent and if it is likely to be a regular delivery (or a breach). Two little front feet are determined that I am not going to grab them and pull! But I do, and another healthy lamb is born (“Welcome to the world.”) Milk, doctor, pen. On to the next shed which is now all singles. A hint of two front feet at the back end of a ewe. Catch, ‘explore’, front feet, pull, and another lamb comes into the world. (“Welcome…”). Pen, milk (not a lot – mark pen) and doctor the lamb.

Back to the double with a bubble. There has been no change. Still that bubble. I consider my three choices. 1) leave it and hope that she has either given birth naturally, or Rhian can deal with her in a couple of hours when she does her rounds – but that risks things going wrong in the meantime.2) Sit and watch and see if nature is going to take its course any further – but that could take hours. 3) Be proactive; catch the ewe and check for progress. Surprise, surprise, I go for ‘proactive’. Catching the ewe involves a bit of a gallop round the shed, but has the advantage of bursting the bubble, and the disadvantage of revealing a single leg and a head. That’s not text book! As long as I can get a finger behind the shoulder of the leg that isn’t out I can pull on that at the same time as I pull on the leg that is out and I should be able to get the lamb out. I do, and the lamb is successfully delivered. Needs a bit of mouth and nose clearing, and ‘massage’ to get it’s lungs going, but all is well. That’s half-well, as there is another lamb still to be born. As before, could be imminent, could be an hour. That’s an hour during which I could be sleeping. With William’s words in my head – “has she brought the head up yet?” – I conduct my internal search for legs and a head. Earlier, on ‘Countryfile’, I’ve seen Adam put on a long polythene glove to conduct the internals; probably keeps his hands in better condition than mine! I can find two legs but I’m not sure she has ‘brought the head up’. Pulling too early will cause problems if the lamb’s head is tilting backwards. Further internal investigation. Yes, the head is now positioned correctly Straighten both legs, pull and “welcome to the world.” All has gone well and I feel a bit smug – especially as I then manage to hold the ewe down with my knee – don’t want to risk her escaping – while I untie the baler twine holding a nearby pen gate shut. Milk, pen, doctor.

Now off to bed. Its 3.15am by the time I turn my light off.

Monday, 30^th March

I wake up with sore patches on my face and looking in the mirror they correspond with some bright red areas. When I bump into Rhian she immediately diagnoses something serious and says she will make an appointment for me at the G.P’s. Thanks Rhian, why not call the undertaker as well! I claim that it is an allergy to getting up early, or Rhian-Working-Me-Too-Hard syndrome, but her sense of humour and mine are very different. I suspect it is maybe an allergy to the shower gel I used last night (a mistake to have a shower?!) and treat it with Tea Tree Oil; Karen would be proud! (although maybe it is not such a wise move as the shower gel was ‘Lemon and Tea Tree).

Given the weather that is forecast for today it is a pleasant morning, if a bit chilly. Rhian will be away for much of the day so we have to work fast to get everyone fed and watered.

With all the rain we’ve had the stream has swollen and the water is hammering down.

William arrives and we work hard to move as many ewes and lambs as possible. With a busy night behind us many of the pens are full and if their occupants aren’t moved on there will be no room for newcomers. A few strong ‘families’ are moved out into the fields, leaving room for others to move up a notch. It takes all morning.

In previous years I have marked ewes and twin lambs with the initials of work colleagues, choir members and so on. This year we seemed to be more organised and they were progressively marked with numbers. ‘Seemed’ because over the past few days the system appeared to become more relaxed. This gives me the opportunity to mark a couple of ewe/win lambs with the initials of two of our lovely LOMVC ladies who are likely to see them on Facebook – EC and PB.

I’m disappointed that a proposed visit by my good friend Bryan, who I haven’t seen for a couple of years, has had to be postponed. With the weather predicted as being lousy, and it promising to be such a busy day, I had suggested that Bryan might prefer not to come. It turns out Bryan was under the weather anyway so it might not have been a wise trip from Shrewsbury.

Disaster strikes during the afternoon. William has decided that maybe there is insufficient room in the Postman’s Hut for the two ewes and four lambs we have put there, so we head out in the worsening weather to move one set. On opening the door William finds a lifeless lamb which he hands to me for confirmation that it is dead. It is lifeless, but warm, and my impulse is to cuddle it and try some gentle external artificial respiration (not Holger Nielsen – I can’t remember the names of the others!). After a while it coughs and splutters, starts breathing and I can feel its heart start beating again. Result! Well, sadly only for a short while. The cute little lamb coughs up blood, struggles to breathe, seems to rally, then fades. It seems that it might have been trodden on.

Rhian returns about 30 minutes later. There is the inevitable post mortem about the dead lamb, with a number of understandable, but not necessarily helpful, comments about how doing things differently would have avoided the death. Note to self: remember that a blame culture is demoralising and not necessarily constructive; better to consider what went wrong, learn from it, and ensure that in future modifications are made that the same situation does not occur again. (OMG – I am almost describing TQM!)

The dead lamb doesn't go to waste though. It is skinned and a jumper made for a ‘pet lamb’ (i.e a lamb that hasn't got a mother to support it – possibly because original mum could only feed one of two twins). And talking of which, the skin of the dead lamb that the vet removed from the ewe Rhian took there a few days ago as been used as a jumper and its occupant is doing well with its new mum – so maybe a ROI there!

Having returned to my bothy, where the unattended fire has almost gone out – damn – I hear the weather forecast for the next 24 hours. Seems that it is going to get even worse than the pouring rain and strong winds we are now experiencing.

Just relaxing, warming up and preparing for my once-per-day visit to the outside world to do emails, etc. when Rhian calls me on my phone. I had been concerned about a ewe due to give birth to twins earlier in the afternoon. We had ‘taken a look’ at her and it was thought that she was just taking her time to give birth. However, Rhian had now started agreeing with my concern and had phoned the vet – who had left the surgery ten minutes earlier – and had an appointment for twenty minutes’ time. Would I help get the ewe (a big girl) in the back of Rhian’s car. So on with all the waterproofs again and head out into the storm. Help Rhian empty her boot (again!) and we go to the appropriate shed for the ewe. With my encouragement Rhian decides to have one last ‘go’ at the ewe. Watch off, hand in. Rhian thinks she can find feet. Phone the vet and cancel the appointment (!). Rhian uses her considerable experience to know the difference between appropriately finding parts of unborn lambs and puncturing the lining of the ewe’s womb. Within a few minutes two small lambs have been pulled. We pen them and the mother - who is singularly unimpressed with what she has been through and seems to sulk, showing no interest in her newborn lambs. But maternal instinct eventually kicks in and she starts licking her lambs. And with no visit to the vet needed Rhian can watch her favourite television programme, Pobl y Cwm (People of the Valley if my Welsh serves me correctly.

Back to my bothy. Far too late to go to Bala. Damn. Cook my evening meal and relax before the 10 pm shift. Putting wet waterproofs on not just once but twice during the night is not a pleasant prospect.

The 10 pm check is wet and windy but involves no lambs. Between 10pm and 1am the storm gets ever stronger with the wind creating amazing noises through the trees and on the metal roof panels of a number of the sheds and it is difficult to sleep. And despite a good latch the door of my toilet comes open and bangs away the way such doors reputedly do. Myfanwy from the village comes to mind but I suspect that is only a nasty rumour!

At 1am the storm must have reached its peak. If Dante had experienced this he would have described this event rather than an inferno. The news the following day reports that either side of us winds of almost 100 mph have been recorded. I venture out. The tarpaulin over the straw bales trailer is billowing like a galleon in full sail. The girls are looking calm despite the maelstrom. Three single lambs safely delivered, cap still on my head, and back to bed.

The fire won’t behave itself in this wind. Getting it to operate effectively has always been a bit of a mystery. As I might previously have mentioned, the fire itself was bought new, as were a couple of fittings, but the rest of the flue is made from pieces of tube recovered from around the place. In my opinion the flue is too wide, not tall enough, and suffers from being a single skin outside, leading to insufficient ‘draw’ and to creosote condensation which runs back down and occasionally leaks through a joint onto the outside of the fire.

I am reminded of Pete, a colleague back in the days when I trained as a Mechanical and Electrical Consulting Engineer. To a young architect’s great annoyance Pete had used the sizing chart for a chimney for the boiler at Eastleigh Library wrongly, and when a colleague checked it the chimney size was wrong and it actually had to be twice as high in order to get sufficient updraught. Until that point the architect had thought he was in with a good chance of a design award, but the double-height chimney put the mockers on that!

Tuesday, 31^st March

Well, I suppose the good news is that the Scarlet Fever I was suffering from yesterday morning has now been downgraded to a mere skin allergy. Oh well, I’ll have to wait for another opportunity to experience the NHS in Wales.

Rhian and I undertake the usual feeding, and working unusually logically we get it finished fairly quickly; I am pleased to hear the suggestion that I go for my breakfast – I’ve only been working for an hour! Rhian is heading off to work, but with the weather being as it is I have no instructions about moving anyone and my only task is to keep an eye on the girls. I’ll take this opportunity to do a bit of catching up and forage for some wood which I can saw into logs for my fire.

Well, that’s the theory and 5 minutes in a nearby field allow me to take a picture of some of the sheep sheds and collect some suitable branches which I saw into short enough sections to transport back to the bothy.

But it is not long before I need to focus on the girls. A ‘double’ is looking like she needs some assistance and indeed a slightly difficult presentation is inhibiting the birth. I manage a

‘one leg and head’ situation, search for the second lamb and ‘pull’ it pretty speedily. Milk; doctor; pen. And before I can get back to my own tasks there is a ‘single’ who needs similar help. Sorted.

William arrives and we do a small amount of moving to free up pens for forthcoming births. And I ‘straw down’ a small hut that we can potentially use for a couple of ‘twins’ families. This is premium accommodation – room service, en suite and mountain views!

Wednesday, 1^st April

Very weary for the 1 am check; thankfully nothing difficult, although one of the ‘singles’ was a wild girl and difficult to catch.

Wearier still when I got up at 7.30am. Again I got it wrong, thinking that as I was waking up I had heard most of the feeding being done. None of the pens had been fed, two of the ewes with lambs had left their lambs and broken out of their pens (and indeed broken their pens!) and their whereabouts were unknown; William had been called to come and find them (turned out that they had sneaked in with some ewes being fed).

It seemed that whatever amount of hay or ‘nuts’ I fed each ewe or group of ewes it was wrong!

William arrived and, sensing the mood, suggested that as he had had an appointment cancelled (not sure if this was true but I wasn’t going to question it) he could stay all day and I could have the day off! I wasn't going to argue. William took over the feeding and I headed to my bothy for a leisurely breakfast, the first shave of about 5 days (ouch!) and to consider my options for the day, especially as this will be the first time for ten days that I can travel during the daytime and can go further than Bala.

One priority was to get a replacement pair of wellies, but I wanted a more interesting experience than a trip to Wrecsam. So I head off to Snowdonia, via Bala - in case I can find a shop there for wellies; I don’t. Pass a number of farms with fields looking just like ours. Ewes and their single and twin lambs. And I travel past Bethan’s (Rhian’s daughter) farm which really is out in the wilds.

During the day I am reminded of two ‘causes’ I have backed as a member of the Snowdonia Society, and one that I didn’t. The first was the ‘improvement’ of the Padog Bends on the A5. Sharp bends interrupt this otherwise fairly straight trunk road to take it through part of the upper Conway Valley. The proposal was to upgrade the road, wrecking the natural beauty. I joined others in objecting. To date the Padog Bends remain as they were (although a fairly high stone wall does nothing to enhance the environment – but is probably needed as a safety feature). The second is the pipeline from Llyn Llydaw down to the hydro-electric scheme in the Gwynant Valley. The CEGB (as they were) wanted to replace the old black, double pipelines with a larger, single pipeline. The proposal was that any replacement should be buried. Looking back that would have been impractical, and the fact that the pipeline was painted a light green means that, with the vegetation re-established it has minimal impact. Finally the new Welsh Highgland narrow gauge railway through Beddgelert, taking the route of a previous (slate?) rail line. I was ambivalent about this; the idea of a new narrow gauge railway through Snowdonia, and especially along the foothills of Snowdon itself and down the Aberglaslyn Valley, seemed an excellent idea; stopping walkers using a route through the tunnels in the Aberglaslyn Valley, so that the railway could use it again – but which had been a good-fun route for many walkers, including some my D of E groups – seemed mean. The railway is in place and running; an alternative route for walkers has been established. I want to travel on that line one day!

Further reflections on a day in Snowdonia to follow, meanwhile some reflections within Snowdonia.

I’m not entirely convinced that Betws y Coed is going to be a good place to buy wellies – I have shopped there over the years for quality walking and climbing gear, and there is no shortage of shops in Betws selling expensive, upmarket clothing and equipment. But I don’t recall ever seeing wellies. They are not part of the Great Outdoors. But I’ll give it a punt and stop at a shop where there seems to be free parking (Betws charges for parking everywhere – very offputting and it increases the costs). With little hope or enthusiasm I approach the Walking and Climbing Boots section of the shop. At first nothing but the logoed items, until I home in on some wellies. But these are Hunter wellies at £120 a throw. Hang on. Shelf above. Green Dunlop wellies – exactly what I was hoping to buy. And better still, reduced from £15 to £10. Surely they can’t have my size? Well the first pair the assistant pulls from the locker are my size. Result! I joke at the counter that I really only want the left boot, and the manager and I find that we are not compatible because although she always punctures her right boots, hers are size 5!

Back to the car. Turns out there is a parking charge but I have avoided being nabbed. Onwards, past the Ugly House and the army training camp to Capel Curig. I’ve spent many hours here either waiting for Duke of Edinburgh Award groups to come through, or warming up and drying out in the Pinnacles Café. I notice that my friend Bob Brigham’s shop is there no longer.

Then onwards past Plas Y Brenin, the National Mountaineering Centre where years ago I passed my Mountain Leadership Certificate and where, ironically John Barry was probably the Principal. I didn’t know him then, but years later spent six weeks with him and others on an expedition to climb the as-yet unclimbed north face of Mount Hagshu in the Himalayas. My proudest moment was getting as far as the bergschrund below the face, three camps up from our Base Camp, and then returning on my own across the crevasse field and through two glaciers to Base Camp. Scary, dangerous and amazing. Thanks for getting me the invite, Andy Smith.

The view of the Snowdon Horseshoe along the valley rarely disappoints, although inevitably the peak of Snowdon itself is in the clouds (locals say that if you can’t see the top it is raining, and if you can see the top it is about to rain!). Snow on Snowdon this morning reminds me of the time three or four years ago I climbed Snowdon on a Christmas Day, with Sue’s dog Dot. Snow completely obscured the PYG track for the final mile of the route; I know the route well enough to be able to navigate it as long as the visibility is ok; I was amused that several ‘mountain hare’ (over)-enthusiasts eventually realised that the old master knew the route better than they did and fell in line behind me!

Down into the Gwynant Valley, past Bryn Gwynant Youth Hostel where I have stayed many times, and with views across the valley to The Coach House, which used to be Herts County Council’s Outdoor Pursuits Centre and which I was on the Management Committee for over several years.

Then into Beddgelert (Gelert’s Grave in English). Named as a result of Prince Llewellyn’s faithful hound, Gelert, which he killed with his sword, mistakenly, thinking the dog had killed his newborn child when in fact the blood on the hound’s mouth was that of a wolf the hound had killed protecting the child. My Labrador of 14 years was called Gelert. She and I have walked very many miles in these mountains, from when she was only 10 months old to a couple of years before she died, often wild camping in interesting and unusual places. Many, many happy memories.

Then down the Aberglaslyn Pass, passing the road up to Cwm Croesor – spooky readings on the compass - across to Trawsfynyyd (strange and inappropriate place to site a nuclear power station), and over to Ffestiniog. Then up to Blaenau Ffestiniog. As I drive in I am reminded of the dull, depressing surroundings with slate shale rising up on almost all sides. But wait! The centre of Blaenau has been transformed, apparently as a result of several million Euro’s worth of European funding. Bright, airy and impressive. Such a contrast to the rest of the town. I used to love trekking up from Blaenau through the disused slate quarry workings, many looking like work there had been only recently stopped, the various inclines and levels, railway tracks and winding gear - water and horse-powered - showing just how creative and inventive the engineers and craftsmen who had installed the workings had been.

Onward still to Dolwyddelan. First past the castle and what used to be a well-used camp site for D of E expeditions. It used to have a corrugated iron toilet just like mine. Over the years the base corroded, allowing less and less headroom each year; the joke was that eventually to use it you had to adopt a squat position and back in! Then, onwards past a house which a friend of mine bought – it had its own cliff face in the back garden – and where I installed a kitchen and did various improvements for him. No helicopters flying over what in those days was the property next door owned by (Sir) Cliff Richard!

Back again to Betws y Coed and the A5 eastbound. Past the Silver Fountain which used to be the first pub over the border into in a Welsh County that didn’t have Sunday closing; why ever did we feel we needed to drive so many miles to get a drink on a Sunday?!

And eventually back through Bala and up to my bothy. I’m on the verge of a pang of guilt when I hear that Rhian and William have worked non-stop all day, but given the day of R and R that I’ve had I avoid it!

And back to the grind. Most of the pens have been done and an early ‘panned’ is called. I’m not really ready for a break, but if I refuse it will seem like I am being standoffish, so we have a very quick drink and Mr Kipling cake before Rhian and William head off on the quad bike to feed in the fields while I stay to feed the sheds. Turn over the troughs and put food in troughs. Walk round to appropriate shed and open gate. Something of a mad scramble as the girls rush round to the troughs. Close gate on them so that they are constrained when they finish eating. Back to their empty shed, filling barrow with straw and collecting hay on the way. Stock hayracks and put straw across shed floor. Feed, hay and water any ewes and lambs in side-pens. Walk back to the girls and open gate letting them back. Some head straight back knowing that there is hay ready for them. Other malingerers try to snatch hay from the hay store or drink from a rainwater trough on the way. In theory, repeat process for next shed. However, there are frequent interruptions. A ewe jumps out of a pen or over a gate. A ewe starts to lamb. Something needs to be fixed.

But at least we now only have three sheds containing pregnant ewes whereas we started off with seven.

Thursday, 2^nd April

The usual feeding regime from just after 7.30am, and despite taking a couple of paracetamol my back is killing me after only a short while. I don’t know how those with conditions where they are in constant pain can stand it.

Suddenly its 9.30am. Where did those two hours go? Rhian has gone to work and I think I deserve breakfast. A rather special mini jar of marmalade – a Christmas present from my sister – enhances my morning toast!

I have a few tasks to perform, including moving some ewes and their lambs which Rhian has assured me will be a doddle, but they are not cooperating and either the ewes or the lambs, or both, double back to where they came from. I use every trick in my shepherding book. a) walk ahead shaking a feed bag; they usually follow; some of them don’t b) carry some of the lambs ahead; even their mothers aren’t that interested c) herd them all forward; they are too keen on grazing and disperse rather than follow each other as sheep usually do. Eventually I get a degree of control and heard them into the field (from which the resident ewes are now trying to escape – damn! I reckon I got the same number of lambs as ewes into the field so all is well – and no doubt there will be a lamb bleating soon if it is nor with its mother.

Things are getting busy in the pens where we initially house ‘single’ lambs – called The Train because to some it looks like a train carriage.

And here is The Barrier. A double shed with a feeding trough in the centre along which the food is scattered at feeding time, and where the ewes above were initially living.

Rhian has taken a lamb to the vet to be put down. It was born with a swollen belly and ‘waterbelly’ has been diagnosed. Unusually it has lived a few days. I get a call from Rhian during the morning – it turns out that the lamb ‘didn't have an opening in its bottom’! We should have spotted this (although I have to admit I don’t spend any time looking at lambs bottoms). It happens occasionally. So at lunchtime, rather than a dead lamb being returned in a feedbag a live one is returned. Things seem to have started working. The details are probably best left not-described.

In the meantime the lamb’s mother, desperate to find her missing lamb, has broken out of her pen several times. The last time she practically wrecked the joint – not only knocking down her own pen but also trashing those of others as she has attempted to find her lamb. Some bands couldn't have made a better job of their hotel room.

A video of lambs not quite caught doing something amusing or interesting.

I am dreading the afternoon feeding as it is both getting late and we haven’t started and also as I can tell that I am going to have to do it all by myself – and there are a lot of mouths to feed. I take a couple of precautionary ibuprofen; maybe they will do better than the paracetamol.

They did! A practically pain-free feeding session. Hallelujah! (Just a pity it is an hour and a half later than the usual end of feeding time).

My usual timings completely thrown by not only a late finish, but also an over-ambitious attempt to upload several videos to the blog, and the internet connection being so slow that it froze. So I eat, and therefore have first-sleep late.

Good Friday, 3^rd April

Wake up with a start at 5am. Sh**! I've overslept and missed the 1am shift. Head clears slightly. No, hang on. It was the 10pm shift where there was no action. At 1am you were just penning some twins you had pulled when another ewe started with her twins which you also pulled and penned. Relax. Go back to sleep.

Wake again at 7.30am. This time it is time to get up. Nice view when opening the bothy door. Temperature inversion overnight has meant that cloud is sitting below us down in the valley. But it is not really good enough for a photo-opportunity and soon starts to rise. It does, however, give the opportunity to insert what I regard as a pretty good example of temperature inversion on Snowdon (another Christmas Day – it used to be a tradition!)

And for those who are interested, this is one of very many views of the top of Snowdon from the PYG track (Pen Y Gwryd – the hotel at the original starting point of the track and where some of the earliest mountain climbers in the area traditionally stayed).

I am lucky that Rhian has done much of the feeding, so not sure that the ibuprofen was actually needed this morning! Finish the feeding with Rhian and I am left to look after things while she goes back to bed. Very sensible.

One of my tasks is to check out one of the water supplies I have installed out in the fields. It has stopped working, or so William has reported. Lucky I have my new wellies as it will potentially involve wading in deep water. I check the supply end which I had expected to be blocked as a result of the heavy rain and increased flow of the stream/river. It is clear. In that case it is potentially a blocked hose. Using a length of ½ inch garden hose has to have its drawbacks and I suspect that a gentle flow of muddied water has meant that some of the sediment has settled out where the hose goes uphill. Remove hose from sink; take downhill to try to increase flow; agitate hose along as much of its length as I can. Muddy water comes from the hose, and eventually it runs clear. Replace hose in sink and wait to see a good strong flow of fresh water fill it back up. Result.

Back to the sheep sheds where two ‘doubles’ have both started (this is getting to be a habit – it happened last night!). I pull the twins of the first ewe and get her penned in The Hospital (simply because it is an easy place to move her on from – she doesn’t need any treatment). I then turn my attention to the second ewe. She seems to be struggling. Bit of a gallop round the shed and I catch her. Sure enough, she has a lamb ready to be born so I pull that one. Search around inside for the second (details omitted – little imagination needed!). I'm not sure I like what I can feel. Seems to be unusual. I am aware that Rhian will be heading off to work soon so probably best to call her now. She comes to assist and delivers a large lamb which had poorly presented and which I might have had problems with.

Now a walk round ‘my’ field to check all is well with ewes and lambs before moving some more residents in. And some ewes and lambs a morning break from the shed to enjoy a bit of temporary grazing.

And time for a bit of video – a view of the lower fields and the hills above.

Now, a bit of time to do ‘maintenance’ tasks. Not sure if my new Shepherd’s crook matches up to the real thing!

Back to the ewes. Seems to be a continuing busy day in the doubles shed. And immediately I have not just one but two girls straining to deliver. Funny how there is little feeling of sisterhood during the labour stage, but there is always at least one ewe which helps with the licking of the lambs once born!

I pull one healthy lamb and as the next is not so far behind I wait for the next one to get a bit closer. During this time I hear the unmistakable cry of a ewe in trouble next door in the singles’ shed. As the twin lamb is now close I pull it and go straight next door to the ewe in trouble. And she is in trouble. She has half-delivered a lamb backwards! Rush to assist but I am too late. The umbilical cord has broken and the lamb has suffocated. I’m going to be in trouble! However, no time for recrimination as I know there is a lamb that needs to be adopted. I go to get the lamb, bring it back and give it a thorough rub-down in the wet dead lamb and as much of its mother’s ‘fluids’ as I can. Then get the dead lamb out of the way and convince the mother that this three-day old lamb is hers. I put her in a pen and am fairly pleased that she seems fairly happy with her new progeny.

Now the second pair of twins to pull and then down to The Barrier where in quick succession I pull two single lambs. It’s a busy day – and it stays like that with twins being born – strangely continuing to be two ewes almost at the same time.

And yes, the comments are as predicted – “Did you….?”   “You could have…”  “You should have…” The problems with being a mere human. Eh?!

Saturday, 4^th April

A bit surprised on my 10pm check last night, finding Rhian still around the sheds. She’d been kept busy all evening and hadn’t been able to let me know as she didn’t have her phone with her. A pity, as I could have gone to sleep earlier.

A couple of single lambs at the 1am check and I was back in my bothy by 1.50am.

Having woken to distant conversations I was pretty sure that Rhian and visitor Lester would have done all the feeding. Wrong again. And as the people in the holiday cottage had already left, Rhian and William’s priority was to do the cleaning and tidying ready for the people who would arrive later in the day. And as the previous people had been there for a month, and are reputedly not the cleanest and tidiest people, it seems there was lots to do. So I had all the feeding to do, interrupted by the arrival of a number of lambs, all needing the usual ‘pull’, doctoring and penning.

The weather forecast was good so time to do some washing. The trusty (so far) Belling Safespin is brought into use, tottering precipitously on the step, held back by its mains lead. Does anyone remember that grey rubber disc you placed on top of the washing in the spin drier? Was that just with Hoover spin driers?

Lots of washing to do, again, frequently interrupted by the arrival of even more lambs – this really is exceptional to have so many births in such a short time. And we are running out of pens to put the new arrivals in. I think I remembered to wash my hands each time between hand washing in the bucket and pulling a lamb. If I didn’t then maybe the nether regions of several of the ewes are now fragranced with a Freshness That Lasts! Beats some of those products I see advertised on the TV! 

A crazy morning without a break, with Rhian and William involved in major moves – I managed to get my breakfast at 11.45am! Rhian and William must have been knackered, working tirelessly.

But it seems we have now turned a corner. Sheds have been emptied and the number of ‘expectant’ ewes we now have probably numbers something like 50. Trouble is, when there are less in a shed they are much more difficult to catch.

A lovely day – lots of sunshine. What a difference a day makes! And in the last two days Spring seems to have sprung! Buds are busting open and tiny flowers are suddenly appearing.

For those interested in my ‘natural mole deterrent’ technique – it seems to have worked! No new molehills near my bothy for over a week – but plenty in the field below my paddock. Maybe there is a commercial opportunity here! Bottled human urine. To be poured into molehills several times per day. Any thoughts on a brand name? No More Moles? Moles Aren’t Us? P Mole?

Not a bad evening in the Berwyn.

Easter Sunday, 5^th April

Gwil arrived on the tractor with a bale of straw last evening; I was eating so didn’t help unload (it’s a fairly easy task). Received a text from my friend Sue asking me to send the Blog URL to Rob; Rob is the husband of Jude who so sadly died a while ago and I can’t help feeling sad for Rob. Jude was such a lovely warm, genuine, person; her loss is unimaginable.

I'm now slightly embarrassed about the ‘lambing’ accounts I have written in this blog as Rob is a farmer with much experience of sheep-farming (Texels) and I know my comments will seem very naïve.

As I could hear Gwil and/or Rhian around at 9.30pm I didn't expect that there would be anything for me to do, so I was surprised that during the 10 pm check I needed to pull two big lambs from one of the doubles. This seemed like an oversight and I might store this for later use if needed!

The usual struggle to wake up and get up. But as I greet Rhian she tells me that she has done all the feeding! Result. Just the news I have hoped for every morning. Maybe as a response to my comment yesterday - that the whole ‘lambing’ experience is so much more interesting if it is varied, and not predominantly about carrying feed and water – Rhian gives me a list of tasks she needs done – mainly moving ewes and lambs. Some of this involves sort of Rubik’s cube technique – shifting one group somewhere to get another group past, then moving them sideways to get another group in.

All tasks completed, apart from tidying up the straw trailer which I will do after breakfast at this civilised hour of 9.30am. The mist is clearing to give a lovely morning and I can’t help feeling a bit smug that the weather forecast for our area here in North Wales is a lot better than where I would otherwise be in Essex. The day seems to be going so well.

After breakfast I check round the sheds before planning to start on the straw. To my surprise a double is starting to lamb. Just as I am chasing her round Rhian calls me on my phone and I confirm that I have things under control; she confirms that I should call her if I need any help. A further chase round the shed -and she is a big girl to bring down - and my theory that a run-around helps the lambing process holds out as when I get her down the lamb’s legs are ready to be pulled. It is a huge lamb and I get quite breathless pulling it. The ewe has good milk and I ‘search around’ for the twin. It feels like the next lamb is a long way back and, given the theory that she will ensure that her first lamb is viable before delivering the next, I decide to leave her to ‘bring the next lamb up’.

Head off to deal with the straw and check back on her every ten minutes or so.

Oh sh 1 t! On one return to check her I see my ewe standing beside a lifeless lamb. Rush in hoping that it has just been delivered and I can do the usual clear nostrils stuff. But although it is still warm it is definitely lifeless. I am going to be in BIG trouble. Serious action required. I resort to artificial respiration. No, not external. The full ABC. Mouth to mouth (well, my mouth to its nose and mouth, by way of my closed hand). I can see the bit inflating that I see when a lamb starts to breathe after it’s born. Can’t remember what the current chest compression to breaths ratio is – why did they keep changing it? And that was for humans. What is it for newborn lambs? I’ve heard of people coming back round after 30 minutes of artificial respiration. Should I continue for that long? And what if someone comes along and sees me doing it? (weirdo!).

I'm going to have to call Rhian and tell her what has happened - and I know what the consequences will be. And they are. Why didn't I call her? Why did I leave the ewe? Don’t I realise that this can happen? What was so important that I didn’t stay? I have what I regard as good answers for all of these, but the communication is only one-way. And it goes on and on. (note to self – remember, if attempting to demonstrate incompetence, don’t keep recycling the same piece of evidence). I weakly suggest that at least we have the opportunity for adoption Rhian wanted. She gets the likely candidate and we do the usual ‘cover the foster-lamb in as much goo as possible’ technique. And at the same time the interrogation continues. Not sure how many times I can say I am sorry, that I regret not staying, that I really do know the importance of keeping an eye out for the following twin (which in my view I was doing) etc. etc.

And now, to cap it all, we go to The Barrier – which I have also checked regularly - and as Rhian goes to deal with one lambing ewe she spots another one with only a head out. Now I get the ‘that couldn't just have happened’ treatment. It’s probably best to resist any further attempt at justification. I doctor the lambs, Rhian goes off. But not for long! Rhian, who generally struggles to find the last received call on her phone, is back with proof that as a result of the time she called me I had left the ewe for too long. My attempts to explain that I checked back regularly are futile.

The ‘if only we could turn back the clock’ and ‘easy to be wise in retrospect’ thoughts are in my mind and of course I am also upset that a lamb that should be alive is dead.

So it’s a beautiful Spring morning but rather than being able to enjoy it I am feeling crap. And then the f’ing phone goes again. I'm expecting that this will be Rhian, with one more volley, and I am tempted not to answer! But it is Martin from LOMVC calling to touch base and see how I am getting on. His call could not have come at a better time. I am so grateful. We have a friendly catch-up. What a tonic!

Then Rhian is back out again. It seems she has been crying which she says has made her feel better. She is now full of remorse. She had been lazy in not coming out when she called me; she had only been tidying up her barn and getting rid of dead flowers; if only she had thought to come out all would have been well. She says that her husband and son both deal with the issue of dead lambs much better than she can. Now is probably not the best time to quote her husband as saying that the occasional death is to be expected and keeps you on your toes.

Not sure that I can do anything very helpful so I continue with the bits and pieces that need doing. One of them is carrying mucky straw to the field which I do to keep me occupied but which I suspect is interpreted as a penance!

The mood lifts a little. But now good fortune strikes. It seems that the people in the holiday cottage, who arrived yesterday, can’t get the TV/satellite system to work, and the previous occupant (who is a bit of a meddler) retrospectively has said there was a problem (which we don’t believe because he complains immediately about the smallest flaw). Could I go in and have a look at it? Now, dear reader, you might think that the following account is my attempt to make a meal of it and earn maximum brownie points. Not so.

I go to my car to get some tools (i.e a pair of pliers!) and borrow a satellite ‘box’ from Rhian’s barn to replace the one that seems defective and that doesn't work either. Trace back to the satellite feed cable and its plug. It falls off in my hand. Result! Remake joint. Connect up temporary box. All working. Replace with more sophisticated Sky box. All working even better. Residents of holiday cottage are impressed and pleased (especially the two boys). Rhian arrives to check progress. Compliments about my skill and talent flow!

The day brightens. The ewes and lambs are content in the fields.  

The view across the Berwyn as I sit in my bothy eating my lunch is perfect. Although all is not completely well with the world, it is not as bad as it had been!

It is only just over four weeks since the facilities at Hen Hafod were prepared for lambing. But now that things are slowing down it is time to start converting some parts back for different uses. Many of us, when we have completed a big task, have a bit of a breather. But that is not a luxury afforded to these hill farmers. One of the sets of pens has to be removed so that the shed is ready for ‘dosing’ the sheep (against liver fluke and all sorts of other nasties). That task will start very soon.

So, hammer at the ready I knock the place apart, returning it to its previous state.

And carry four barrowloads of ‘bedding’ for disposal. There is something quite satisfying about the way, the deeper I dig, the more matted and consolidated the straw becomes, and easier it is to put in the barrow. The same can’t be said about the smell that several week’s worth of ‘excrement’ and rotting straw have generated!

And later it is good to move a number of ewes and their single lambs out from the sheds into the big wide world.

Easter Monday, 6^th April

Oh what a night! (but not late September 1963!) 10 pm check – nothing happening, all ewes quiet; the usual baa-ings and bleating from the sheds and pens with ewes and lambs in them. Into bed. Why can’t I sleep?! Apart from here during lambing I can always sleep! Set Sleep Timer on TV for an hour; still awake when TV switches off. Ahhh. What's happening now? Oh. It’s the 1am alarm. Don’t want to wake up now. Never good at this. Always wrestle between staying asleep and having to get up. Generally feel ill. It’s unnatural! OK. Duty calls. Extra Strong mint and a swig of water. Out to see the girls. Earlier on in lambing I would hope for action to make it seem worthwhile. Now I hope for inaction so that I can get back to bed. I'm lucky. No action. Back to bed. Set sleep timer for an hour. Still awake at 2.15 am. And why does BBC World News just repeat itself each hour? I find myself waiting for the slip ups that I heard an hour ago. Do I get up and make a mug of Horlicks (yes, I really do have some Horlicks!) or will that wake me up even more? Eventually I am at least dozing. What is that sound. Could be the baa-ing of one of the blind ewes in the field; they sometimes make a more desperate sound than the others. But it doesn't sound like it is coming from the field. Forget it, Neil, go to sleep. No. Its sounds more desperate. No, go to sleep. There it is again. OK. Give in. Get up.

As soon as I am out of the bothy door I can tell it is the sound of a ewe in trouble. Head for The Barrier. One of the ewes is on her side, but stands as I approach her. Two hind legs are protruding from her rear end. It’s a breach birth. How long have they been there for? Has she pushed so much that the umbilical cord has broken? If so the lamb is probably already dead. The ewe offers no resistance as I put her on her side. Worse news. These legs are cool, not warm. Dilemma! Call Rhian, and in doing so waste precious time that might be the difference between life and death, or go it alone. I don’t usually do breaches! Sod it. Go for it Neil. Find tail and pull it clear. Now pull back legs and twist. There’s a lot of resistance. Too much pulling will push the lamb’s innards into its chest, or worse still burst them through its stomach wall (as I have seen done before). Gently. The ewe helps. Out comes a lamb. Seems like it could be alive! Clear mouth and nostrils. Do what William does with front and back legs as though using a set of bellows. Put it beside mum’s mouth so she can lick it. Breathing starts; heart starts. We have a live lamb! “Welcome to the world!” Mum has milk on one side. That will do until morning. Doctor and pen.

Might as well check the other sheds now (can’t help thinking of the useful brownie points I would score if I was still delivering lambs when Rhian does her 3am check!). No. All is calm elsewhere. Back to the bothy. For some reason the fire is burning furiously and the kettles are whistling. Close down fire and get to bed. 1 hr on Sleep Timer. Suddenly it’s the 7.30 am pre-alarm at 6.55. Oh well, at least I have 30 mins to doze (but it feels cold – that sodding fire has almost gone out!).

Up and out. Brilliant. All the feeding has been done again. I try not to be too magnanimous reporting the ‘rescue’ I have got up specially to deal with in the night. It falls on deaf ears! Where is the sense of justice?! I got a bollocking and a half for yesterday’s dead lamb! Surely I should get an equal amount of praise for today’s live one! (note to self………..)

An absolutely lovely morning. Move a few around. Take a bit of feed to a field. William arrives. We move ewes and lambs between fields. The sun shines, the views are superb. This feels good!

Yes, it is too good to be true. Rhian has gone off to clean a holiday cottage and has received a call from a holidaymaker in another property in Bala, saying that he can smell gas. She calls me – can I just pop down and check. My joke that I’ll go round with a lighted match fails. Nip down to Bala. It’s probably stale air where the gas-fired back boiler hasn't been used for a while. Run the heating for a few minutes and it seems to clear. Tell the people to call again if they think the smell remains.

Back to Hen Hafod. I want to get a pallet stripped down for the potentially-useful wooden planks, and stow them where they are not too obvious, before Rhian returns. Her view of pallets is that they are a source of firewood.

Suddenly it is lunchtime and after lunch I really do have to catch up on some emails. Staff at YCT will be expecting replies to emails they have sent before Easter and I need to ensure the CCT work party is organised.

It is slightly strange becoming ‘re-attached’ to my usual day-to-day charity stuff. In a way I have missed it and in a way the break has been refreshing. But I am looking forward to getting back to my involvement in YCT, CCT and LOMVC!

With the births becoming less frequent, and the sheds emptying, and with more and more ewes and lambs further out in the fields, it really is obvious that after about five weeks this year’s lambing will be coming to an end.

So as I approach the end of lambing and the end of this blog, having originally not wanted to be effected by comments, I have now decided to allow ‘Comments’ to it!

It would be interesting to get feedback, but more so to be able to explain anything where I have given insufficient explanation or made assumptions, or respond to questions that have arisen. So, dear reader, feel free to comment away. (But please avoid anything crude or offensive to others!). Not sure when I will respond to comments – possibly not until I am back home, possibly at the weekend, possibly during the following week, depending on when the remaining ewes get their acts together.

Some further descriptions/reflections might well be added!

Tuesday, 7^th April

Just dozing last evening, trying to stay awake for the 10pm check, when I get a call at 9.30pm from Rhian who is still delivering lambs. She suggests that I don’t need to do a 10pm check! YES! But I'm not sure that I have convinced her that if I just do the 1am check it will only be an extra 25 minutes gap which with so few ewes now should not be crucial.

Thankfully I am right and there is nothing to do at 1 am. (But I still can’t understand why I become so awake that I can’t get back to sleep).

A strange dream, in which I seemed to have turned up to an LOMVC concert without my uniform, and not realising that the next concert had been moved forward by three weeks. And just as I am deciding to be an audience member the alarm is disturbing me as a precursor to the 7.30 wake up and get up. But something is wrong. It is not the usual alarm. It is my phone ringing. Before I can answer it the ringing has stopped but I see that it was Rhian and guess she needs help. Drag myself out of bed and dress as quickly as possible. Forego my morning wash! Rhian calls again. Yes, she needs help.

I find her in the ‘singles’ shed with a ewe in serious trouble; a complicated breach birth. I do the usual ‘hold the hind legs up high with ewe on her shoulders’ technique while Rhian delves deep to find a tail or back legs. She eventually succeeds and with enough lamb out to pull we lay the ewe down. It is a nasty pull; the lamb does not come out easily. Lifeless. Rhian does the water in the ear, pound its chest, massage techniques but there is no sign of life. Undeterred Rhian continues her various ‘come back to life’ processes. Straw up the nose. More water in the ear. Several minutes go by. It seems that all attempts have failed. But then there is a splutter. More massage. Yes, life starts! The lamb starts breathing by itself. We are concerned that may be backward pull has done some damage – broken ribs, mangled guts and so on, but within an hour it is standing and suckling, and so far it seems to be ok.

I receive my ‘moving’ instructions for the morning. Dan, who visited a couple of weeks ago, was curious about the ‘code’: “put the double on the left in the hospital in the top shed; change the double second down in the barrier to a single, red, mark the lamb green and put them in your place; put the one with the bottom (which I think should really be called The One That Now Has a Bottom!) in your place; mark the ones behind the mesh and put them in the other shed; two green heads to the front field” and so on!

It gives me the opportunity to mark one set for the children of my next door neighbour who, reputedly having seen pictures of lambs I have posted, have now refused to eat their roast lamb dinner!

It is a perfect day. Lovely weather and everything looks good. Plenty of interesting tasks to be completed. And one task I am determined to see through is disposal of the increasing number of dead lambs! It is either dig a very large hole and bury them (difficult in rocky, stony ground), or create the best crematorium I can. I go for the latter and build a bonfire I think will get hot enough for the ‘disposal’. Collecting wood and seeing some of it hiss on the fire reminds me again of doing so at scout camps, and one in particular - which I now realise was not so far from here - near Dolgellau. I am amazed how much heat and fuel is needed to incinerate each lamb. Makes me wonder how much fuel is used per body at a ‘real’ crematorium! Green burial now seems pretty good. Each time I return to see the results a bit more burning has taken place. But there are some gruesome sights. Jan, our LOMVC Musical Director, calls to discuss our next concert. Not sure I should have described the cremation!

William arrives and we do what has now become the regular daily moving. This is so good. Out in the fields, lovely weather, lovely views, and the ewes and lambs are generally behaving themselves, heading for where they are meant to go.

Feeding is getting much easier – less ewes overall and a greater concentration in sheds rather than pens -  and just as I am finishing I am pleased to get a call from Lindsay from YCT who calls to chat about a few things we need to consider; yes, I’m getting more and more acclimatised to the idea of returning to (another) real world!

Time for a few ‘cute lamb’ pictures

And back to my bothy to update the blog.

Wednesday, 8^th April

Today would have been our mother’s birthday. Very fond memories, and much gratitude for the opportunities and experiences.

I don’t want to get hung up on not being able to sleep (an experience which hitherto in my life has never beset me!), but last night was BAD! Dozed till the 10pm check. Nothing. Failed to sleep for ages. Up for the 1am check. Nothing. Still awake at 2.15 am. Neither BBC News on TV, nor Radio 4, nor Radio 3 help. Now I can hear a ewe making a noise. It’s not the ‘desperation’ sound, but I can’t stop hearing it. Get up, get dressed, get outside. A perfect sky – stars and the moon, not affected by light pollution; beautiful. And no emergency anywhere! Back to the bothy. Horlicks (can you believe it?!). Eventually I got to sleep (based on the fact that later I woke up!).

A super morning. Hardly any feeding to be done as Rhian has done most of it. I don’t know how Rhian manages it as she is up at 3am giving milk to the various lambs needing it as their mothers are not producing enough (and she does that at least twice per day).

Lovely weather and some interesting and varied tasks to complete. But first, a set of twins to be delivered. Textbook. And a perfect mother who cooperated as though she had attended maternity classes! Here she is a few minutes after between us we delivered the second lamb.

I prioritise moving ewes and lambs since that will give some of them the maximum time to enjoy and benefit from the good weather. As soon as they are out in the fields they are enjoying the opportunity to graze on Dr Green; their lambs must benefit from the better quality milk.

Another of my tasks is to fix the Dyson vacuum cleaner. It is thought it needs a new belt and I have to text Rhian if we need one as it is Early Closing Day in Bala (quaint?). Good old Mr Dyson has produced cleaners that can be taken apart, cleaned and fixed. No inbuilt obsolescence there! A bit of unblocking and the DC04 is cleaning the yard like an expert! No belt needed.

Such a lovely morning. Breakfast, then a stroll round to check all are well.

This cock pheasant being warned by the ewe has been around since I have been here. Must be relying on the fact that it knows I am vegetarian! (It better watch out, though, as one of my several exceptions is eating meat from an animal that has had good life and a fair chance!)

And a repair to the gate to The Garden. Rather than the repair I should do (screws, reinforcement, etc.) I stick to the local convention and use bent over nails to secure the damaged hinge! I wonder if anyone will notice my adherence to the norm?!

A further task of the morning is to re-start the crematorium! Some of yesterday’s ‘disposals’ are still decidedly recognisable (they wouldn’t be ready for the cremulator I have seen used at the pet crematorium!) and there are two further clients I failed to deal with yesterday as well as one new ‘departure’ from late yesterday afternoon.

Then just time to do a bit of ‘path maintenance’. The entrance to ‘my field’ can get very muddy. Every couple of years enough shingle builds up in the river by the bridge that I can use it to make a pathway at the gate; the same shingle would be sold as ‘ornamental stones’ at a silly price in a garden centre. So a free barrowload seems like a real bargain!

Time after lunch to check through some charity documents so they can be emailed back later this afternoon. Then another jolly job – a connector on a sewer pipe running through the feed store is leaking as a result of the clamp failing. A replacement has been sourced and ‘could I just replace it’?! I suppose in the last few weeks I have been in contact with sufficient nasties that I shouldn't be too concerned. It’s a fairly easy job, but to be sure that it isn't going to leak again for a while I apply a liberal amount of silicone mastic – not sure whether I should or not as I expected there to be a gasket with the fitting. But a test shows that it is no longer leaking. And while I am on maintenance I take a look at a leaking tap on the ‘geyser’ and tighten up the gland so that it no longer drips.

Always inventive in the techniques, a bit of physio and some ‘pipe insulation’ prosthetics are helping this lamb overcome the difficulties of having weak front legs!

Plenty of time for the afternoon feed and even less ewes and lambs to deal with so it is a casual affair. And I can leave the ‘double’ girls to amble back to their shed after they have eaten their ‘nuts’ from the outdoor troughs; they always try to snatch some hay or drink rainwater on their way back, and today I give them all the time they want!

And a lovely finish to the afternoon – a few sets of twins and their mums can go out into the fields.

A super day!

Thursday, 9^th April

Well if anyone is interested – I slept really well last night! So well and so soundly that the 1am and 7.15am alarms were horrible experiences! No new lambs for me overnight and thankfully no feeding to be done this morning as Rhian had done it all.

A lovely walk round the fields with the sun rising and many of the lambs mistakenly thinking I was there to give them their milk. Funny how they can be your nbf when they think they are going to be fed and your worst enemy, to be avoided at all costs, if they need to be caught.

The sight of the chopping block and the axe at the bottom of the yard could only mean one thing – another lamb had died and been skinned to make a jumper for an orphan. And it turned out to be the One That Now Has a Bottom. The poor chap had never seemed healthy from the moment it was born so it was no real surprise. I made the decision that the crematorium would not be opening today!

It seems that the new mum isn't keen on accepting her new charge - despite the jumper she knows it isn't hers - so I have to construct 'The Adopter' - a sort of restraint pen in which the ewe is forced to stand and can't turn round to push the lamb away as her head is trapped. It seems very cruel. I try to make it slightly more bearable by ensuring that the ewe has a regular supply of hay, water and feed.

As it looks like I might have some time to myself today I decide to use some of the recycled pallet to put a back wall on an area I have covered with a donated sheet of roofing. It will make it more weatherproof. So I juggle woodwork with checking for ewes lambing, as well as making a visit to the holiday cottage when they are all washed and dressed to look at a problem with a tap. To mend it I have to borrow, at Rhian’s suggestion, parts of a tap in her own barn. Later in the day I nip down to Travis Perkins in Bala to try to source some new tap tops; the alternative is a drive to Wrecsam.

At Travis Perkins I am directed to the only option I can use, tap a conversion kit which might do the job. Rhian has said that I should put it on her account. I haven't got an order, they don’t know me there, but I just say the Welsh equivalent of ‘Edwards, London Road’ and they put it on Rhian’s account with no proof of identity or proof that I am authorised to do so!! Old fashioned trust and values? I am reminded of when Rhian wanted me to collect a parcel from the Bala Sorting Office for her daughter. I walked in, said what I wanted, was led through the actual sorting office to a table where the parcel was, no signature or ID needed, was wished a Merry Christmas and off I went. A far cry from my sorting office in North London where even passing one’s ID under the smallest gap, having entered through an ‘airlock’, seems to be considered risky, and after which several doors are opened and closed before the parcel is produced – with hardly a word spoken, let alone a cheerful one!

The afternoon goes quickly, feeding not taking much time. Just one shed to be let out to feed; only a two weeks ago there would have eight sheds and there would have been fifty ewes feeding here (with several more troughs, of course).

With feeding over so quickly I have a chance of doing a bit more work on my new ‘store’.

I have decided that I will probably return home next Monday by which time I will have been here for just over five weeks; any remaining pregnant ewes will be taken to the ‘home farm’.

While adding a few words to my blog, before heading to Bala to upload it, I almost get a visit from my neighbour's son!

Friday, 10^th April

A call from Rhian at 9.30pm last eve. I have covered her absence while she went to clean a holiday cottage and she is now late and only just finishing bottle-feeding the various lambs that need a top-up. She suggests I don’t need to do the 10pm check. I'm not going to argue and go straight to bed. Sleep soundly until the 1am nightmare of wake up and get up. Still hate it. A quick round of the sheds; nothing looking like it is happening or about to happen so back to bed.

Another relaxed start to the morning. Time to wander round and enjoy the start of the day as the shadows shorten with the sun coming up over the mountains.

The lamb on the left is the one that had the physio and the temporary prosthetics.

Smoke coming out of the chimney welcomes me back to my bothy for breakfast.

A few tasks, including hanging out the washing Rhian delivers as she sets off to work. Check on the sets of twins who with their mothers have set off along the strip of grass that borders the river. Move the ewe and lamb in ‘The Adopter’ (the pen-itentiary) to a normal pen and, joy of joys, the ewe now seems to have accepted the lamb as her own – it works! But inevitably it means some more mucking out needs to be done. And twins in the doubles’ shed take me by surprise.

Time during the morning to use some more recycled pallet to replace a fence at the side of my ‘wood ready to be sawn into logs’ compound.

At a regular check on the ewes it seems that a ‘double’ is getting ready to lamb. I keep an eye on her and as she look s like she is starting to strain I move in. Not sure that what I am feeling inside is quite right. It is either a breach birth or a ‘head and no legs’ presentation. Phone Rhian who comes from work fairly quickly. I catch the ewe as Rhian arrives and shortly afterwards she has changed into ‘lambing’ clothes and joins me. As usual Rhian diagnoses the problem – as I had thought it might be, a prominent head and no legs either side. Pretty standard for Rhian to deal with. The lamb is pulled, Rhian does the ‘water in ears’ treatment, but to my surprise it is dead. Well at least we will have the second lamb. Wrong. Rhian pulls it and it is already dead, with the afterbirth coming out at the same time (rather than hours or days later). Damn. A good ewe, plenty of milk, no lambs. Rhian searches for a potential adoption candidate, but the ’pet lamb’ (meaning it is an orphan) she comes back with is at least a week old, has got used to living independently, and doesn’t seem like a good match. I later discuss the double-dead-lamb issue with Gwyn, always supportive of my efforts, who feels that I am not to blame in any way, and that in all likelihood the second lamb had died some time earlier, producing toxins which would then have killed the first lamb; and under such circumstances the ewe would not have gone into ‘normal’ labour.

After lunch another unusual task. The boot of Rhian’s car has stopped opening some days earlier and as she is about to trade it in when she gets her new car she feel sit should work (although she has heard so many “it was working perfectly when I left it” comments from people staying in her holiday cottages that she could easily use that one). In many ways it is not surprising given the number of things Rhian puts into her boot, including live ewes and the various ‘coverings’ that are supposed to protect it. I let the interior of the car cool down a bit before climbing into the boot (luckily it’s a hatchback). Rhian presses the remote – although it’s not clear which press locks and which press unlocks the boot. Seems that nothing is going to release it, and too much prising could damage it further. I have given Rhian a ‘hook’ to pull on the outside, but that doesn't seem to be helping. We give it one last try. I am using a large screwdriver to lever the inside. I sense a sort of ‘unglueing’ sound and a small amount of movement. Yes, it ‘unglues’ some more and then opens fully. For Rhian there is now only one further action – to spray everything anywhere near the lock and hasp with liberal amounts of WD40.

A lighter load again for the evening feed and not only do I leave the girls in the shed till last to come out to the troughs, but I put a bit of hay here and there so that they can have a little snack on their way back to their shed!

Time to saw a few logs; I now have more towards the end of lambing than I did at the start! At least they should be dry by next year!

Saturday, 11^th April

If the weather forecast was to be correct I would not get wet during my checks overnight, despite the forthcoming rain. And it was almost correct. The 10 pm and 1am checks were both ‘dry’ – both as in ‘it wasn't raining yet’ and ‘no ewes lambing’. Rain didn't exactly hammer on the bothy roof, but it did fall steadily for several hours. But I could hear nothing when I got up at 7.45am (oops – almost overslept), and when I opened the bothy door the ground was wet but the sun was shining.

It was clear that Rhian had dealt with two sets of twins overnight, but I was surprised to find a ewe in the ‘doubles’ shed cleaning up her lambs, apparently having delivered them herself. So I doctored and penned them, assuming that Rhian had pulled them and left them out. There is sometimes a sense that if lambs are found ‘ready-born’ there has been a lack of adequate surveillance. So I tried not to be smug when Rhian confirmed that she had not pulled them and they had been born since she last saw them.

My confidence in the success of the ‘pen-itentiary’ adoption seemed somewhat dented. She had escaped twice yesterday, physically breaking out of her pen!

And as a result she had been left, with her ‘new’ lamb, in a small paddock overnight. However, the lamb was alone in the paddock, bleating forlornly and pathetically dragging its wet jumper around behind it. Where was the ewe? Nowhere to be found; possibly she had gone down the lane to the road? She was certainly not in sight.

Keep your eyes open, Neil. Well I did, and surprise, surprise, she had somehow managed to get over at least two gates and was in the doubles’ shed! I put her lamb in a pen at the side of this shed and the ewe was keen to get in the pen and look after ‘her’ lamb! It was no surprise that this ‘jumping Jill’ ewe was later found in the next door pen!

P-Mole! It seems that the mole is reading this Blog, as the day after I wrote about ‘natural deterrence’, feeling that it had been successful, Mr Mole had created a series of molehills around the paddock. So cancel the crowd-funding suggestions! P-Mole doesn’t look like a good commercial prospect!

Saturday is bound to be a busy day with changeovers at the various holiday cottages. Here there needs to be a quick turnaround as the ‘new’ people are coming at 1pm and the house has to be cleaned from top to bottom and the bedding changed, with the ‘old’ bedding being washed – a considerable amount given that there were seven people in the place last week. I have to juggle fixing three taps around the need to keep the hot and cold water supplies on for the washing machine. Turns out not to be a difficult job and I avoid having to completely replace one tap.

I am in the middle of collecting together the various feeding and drinking utensils the ewes have been using in their pens (old frying pans and saucepans predominate - and are always gratefully accepted!) when Rhian returns and as she can’t find me phones to say that she has left a bag of washed bedding by my bothy door and there is another lot near the house which she wants me to hang on ‘my’ washing line! Not sure how it being ‘my’ line and my pegs means I am the one to have to do it – but it has to be done and I'm getting used to it!

The weather forecast predicted ‘breezy conditions’ and it’s going to be a good day for drying with the sun out and the washing practically horizontal from the line at times. The ewe in the paddock looks bemused. I feel pleased that I haven’t dropped or trailed anything in the sheep droppings!

There is the rest of a set of pens to be de-constructed and the shed mucked out. 

Before.

And the same place afterwards.

Many trips to the field with a very full wheelbarrow, and it turns out that I am getting ‘putting the straw on the reeds’ wrongly! My understanding was that the matted straw was supposed to block out the light from the reeds and cause them to die. My latest instructions are to scatter the straw lightly on the reeds. Seems to me that is a good way of giving them a good boost of mulch and fertiliser, encouraging them to grow more, not less. It will be interesting to see the results later in the year and next year.

Apparently the people who were supposed to be arriving at 1pm phoned at 4pm to say that they had had an accident and would not be coming. True or not?! So much for all the effort to get the place ready for them!

There is a feeling somewhere between lethargy and sadness that the lambing here at Hen Hafod is coming to an end. Any time now the sheep trailer will arrive and all the ewes still to lamb will be taken away.

And with the place a lot less busy it will also soon be time for the swallows to start making their nests around the place - I've seen one flying around today!

And at about 5.30pm that is just what does happen. Nine doubles are loaded first in the front of the trailer, then five singles from The Barrier and five from The Tap are loaded in the back. Rhian goes off home in her car soon afterwards.

So with the people in the holiday cottage now not coming I am left completely on my own! I don’t mind this at all. I have a few jobs still to do (of course!). The ‘perk’ is to take the rubbish down the lane on the quad bike (very tempting to go for a whizz round the fields, but the ewes associate the arrival of the quad bike with the arrival of food, and mob the gates, making it impossible to get through without some escaping). And as there are now no ewes here left to lamb I do not have to get up during the night. YES! Must remember to reset the alarms on my phone.

I’ll hope for fine weather again tomorrow morning as, as well as doing the morning feed of the last few residents, it is now my job to go round bottle-feeding the lambs which need a top-up.

Sunday, 12^th April

What a luxury – to go to bed when I felt that I wanted to and to get up when I was ready rather than when the alarm made me!

The weather forecast showed rain over North Wales but when I got up at 7am there was some rain in the air but not the heavy rain that was forecast. A quick round of nuts, hay and water for the resident ewes – much quicker than I am used to. Then a task I have probably done more of in past years – milk for the lambs. They seemed to like the temperature and ‘creaminess’ of the milk I mixed up for them. Some in the fields were especially enthusiastic to guzzle a full bottle (baby’s bottle) each.

Still not actually raining so, taking advantage of the opportunity, I nip down on the quad bike to the skip beside the road with the rubbish. Need to ensure that the large over-filled bags are tied on securely – it doesn’t promote a ‘Joe Cool’ image if a bag falls off the quad bike and I have to retrieve the various bits and pieces, especially as some will easily blow away.

I suppose it wouldn't be a weekend morning if there wasn't some washing to hang out! Some has been left for me to deal with and I take the chance that the washing might dry before any more rain falls. With such a strong wind I spend a bit of the morning retrieving clothes pegs and washing which is about to take off.

While collecting the washing from the house I notice a card from the family that stayed here last week. Lovely people. They commented on the views, the way they felt so at home, and the nice people at Hen Hafod!

Now a chance to do a bit of work on the electrics in my bothy. Since I have been here I have meant to install an extra socket but there has never been time. If I am lucky I can feed the cable in the gap between the inner and outer walls, although the polystyrene sheets won’t make that as easy as it could be. But a bit of ferreting around with some stiff wire through a hole I make gets me a route from the live socket to where I want the new one to be. Success. And I now have a double socket where I wanted it, including two USB charging outlets.

A leisurely lunch, partly because I now don’t need to patrol round the sheds on a regular basis and partly because it has now started raining in that Welsh horizontal-rain fashion.

An opportunity in the afternoon to get off-site and travel a few miles to see a new property that a friend has bought recently. A super old house with outbuildings and land. Lots of renovation work to be done.

And back to Hen Hafod for the last evening feed and to do some tidying up collecting more feeding and drinking utensils and haybaskets. And to help bring a couple of ewes and their lambs in from the fields. Neither ewe’s lambs are making the progress they should be making; it turns out that one has mastitis and will need to be treated with antibiotics.

With the rain lessening and the sky brightening I'm hoping for a fine evening and a chance for a final stroll around. Especially as this year there are some parts of the farm I haven’t actually visited yet!

Monday, 13^th April

Well yes, I did have the opportunity last evening to stroll round the farm and enjoy the views, mainly from above the farm.

Another full night’s sleep – I could get used to this!

Up at what in ensuing days will be early – 7.15am! – and there has been a heavy frost. Go round the various sheds giving feed, hay and fresh bedding to the residents and give milk to the three lambs who have to have it twice a day. It’s a bit of a battle in the field as practically every lamb thinks it should have a bottle of milk and they try to climb up my legs with their muddy feet! And of course check that my water supplies to the various places are working – which they are. They are not frozen as the water is running, but water in troughs has an impressive layer of ice on it.

A few last tasks – more used straw to the field, collect in a few haybaskets, collect up all of the pieces of baler-twine I have insisted on keeping (there must be a use for it, burning it seems such a waste!).

And then, after a relaxed breakfast, the task of packing and cleaning. After five weeks this is a major challenge and I do it with no real motivation. As I tell Rhian when she calls, I could easily just stay on here – especially as the weather forecast is good and the workload is so much less!

Time for another pic - the ewe nearest the camera is one of several blind ones (she manages her lamb well) and a video of some of the lambs in the field playing together.

Yes, at the end of the video the playing is getting a bit adventurous. These adolescents!

But it has to be done. I am, as many will know, not especially keen on cleaning – as soon as you do it stuff starts to get dirty again, so why bother? Despite Rhian’s hint/suggestion, I do not get everything out of the bothy – furniture, carpets, etc. and clean all through. A bit of a brush round and a quick whizz with the vacuum cleaner is enough for me. Final task is to switch off the main electricity supply and shut off the water to my bothy and the toilet. Mr Mole has been busy and covered the stopcock in the field (until now neatly surrounded by a smart plastic surround) with earth, making it a mucky job to turn it off – and a mucky time next time turning it back on. He has the last laugh. It might need to be those mole traps next time!

The bothy is shut down.

Just about to leave when Rhian arrives, in a hurry to feed. Can I just fish out the money and stuff from between her car seats? I guess she is at last changing her car. Well, I am pleased that I have found a car messier than mine. But Rhian has an excuse – I don’t. A bit of flicking around with a piece of flexible plastic and I get about £8 worth of loose change (not surprising that there are a few £1 coins as they are used in the meters in the holiday cottages); a few pens, a syringe needle (thankfully within its cover) and two radiator bleed-keys(!), nails and screws and a few AAA batteries.

Then I have to leave. SatNav is instructed and if I don’t stop it’ll take me just under 4 hours.

I’m not in a great rush so I take the more-direct, shorter in miles but longer in time, route across the Berwyn. This route can be pretty, or mean, depending on the weather in the mountains. Today the views are good and I enjoy the drive. Can’t help smiling as I drive through the village of Knockin. Here is proof of 'The Knockin Shop':

Oh dear, I really am getting back into civilisation. Traffic lights; roundabouts; dual carriageways; traffic announcements on the radio; advertising, especially on lorries; people in a rush; more diverse people.

It’s a reasonable journey. Interesting to see the works on the M54 which caused the long diversion on my way up. And, despite trying to avoid the Birmingham area at rush hour, the traffic on the M6 crawls for several miles – although I should feel lucky as the motorway has been closed in the opposite direction and traffic going north is stationary between the M6/M5 junction and Spaghetti Junction; there will be some late arrivals tonight.

A quick stop for a coffee at the services, and catch up on a couple of ‘choir’ issues for tomorrow. And eventually home.

Something that has been bugging me while I have been away is the fact that, as I mentioned, I was ‘flashed’ by a speed camera on the M25 on my way up to Wales. And I am aware that the time I have been away has potentially removed any chance of appealing or paying half the fine, or something. I've been hoping that it would just have been a ‘warning’ camera. But no! Within a huge mound of letters I identify two from Essex Police at Billericay. Open the first. Yes. The ‘Intention to Prosecute’ letter. £200 and 6 points if I don’t reply in time (which by now I haven’t) PLUS a fine and points for the actual offence! Damn! My mitigation is going to be that a) there were also ‘lane closed’ signs showing, but none of the lanes were closed b) that there was no ‘end of speed limit’ sign – so how can you start a speed limit if you don’t end it? c) I've been away from home for five weeks. But it looks like I am too late for that, and in any case they are not convincing mitigation (I sat as a magistrate for long enough to know that!).  Open second letter which I expect to be the follow-up to my lack of reply to the first, and imposition of the extra points and £s. Yes, it is indeed another from the police at Billericay. But wait!  Blah, blah, blah “not in the public interest to continue with this case…..arranged for the case to be withdrawn”! RESULT!!!!!

That will make unpacking and starting to do the washing a whole lot more pleasant!