This was a cade lamb that turned into a real bruiser, you could never turn your back on him. Once he'd started his run, you had to star running too, most of the times he would still catch you up.
The Cade Lambs
Years ago had some Cades,
reared around the garden,
Tame and bold and
cheeky, from us we tried to harden,
But this one tup lamb
hard faced, nothing put him off,
Would follow close
behind, and charge you from his trough.
Out in the field when he
got big, he’d look and give a baaaa,
He would let you get
half way in, then start his run from far,
Always from behind at
speed, he’d leap from five foot back,
Hit you with his bony
head, your hip or thighs he’d whack.
The charge would be just
the same, the devil he was sly,
Take off your coat, hang
it out, he would be drawn to that,
Like a bullfighter in
the ring, he loved to have a spat.
Word got round, keep out
that field, cross it if you dare,
Could not see which one
he was, from a distance stare,
Then without warning at
full speed, to late he’s got you marked,
Now it was we must know it’s
his temper we have sparked.
Countryman
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Yes when we're talking about livestock, "on four legs" I mean everything, and that includes those that are not so welcome, ie. mice. They're always in the sheds in winter around the cattle feeds, and quite often found in our own house, in the pantry
Mother had a Mouse Trap
Mother had a mouse
trap, to catch the pesky mice,
She always used to
bate it, with anything but rice,
The rind of cheese
old and smelly for them to entice,
Never failed always
worked, from her you got advice.
The trap all set on
pantry shelf, a dangerous devise,
Us kids to touch and
set it off, never did it twice,
Catch ya finger in
the trap, the result it isn’t nice,
We’re learning from
experience, with danger do not dice.
Countryman (Owd
Fred)
___________________________________________
I Remember Killing the
Pig
The pig was rolled onto the bench and slaughtered, the blood was saved in a bucket to make Black Pudding |
About once a year the
butcher called, for to kill a pig,
Scrubbed off the pig
bench, it was heavy and big,
Don’t know whose it was,
but it went around the village,
To lay the pig on when
it’s killed, this it had lot of usage.
Starve the pig from day
before, empty belly they need,
Then the butcher
prepares his tools, then the pig to lead,
By a noose round his
snout, mid squealing protest struggle,
Took three men to lift on
bench,to hold it on they grapple.
We watched all this when
we were kids, fingers in our ears,
Then bang the butcher
shot him, and cut its throat mid tears,
It happened fast, the
kids will learn; catch the blood in bucket,
Kicking stopped, and
bucket full, into pantry put it.
Very hot water poured
all over, and scrape the hair all off,
He scalded the hooves,
with a hook ripped the hoof clean off,
This was the worst when
he opened it up, all put into the barrow,
Save the heart , liver
and kidneys, same sequence always follow.
Then with a “tree”, like
a big clothes hanger, lifted pig to beam,
Left to set almost week,
butcher returns, to watch were keen,.
The head comes off to
make the brawn, boiled in a great big pot,
The rest is quartered,
for to salt down, onto the setlas brought.
Some fresh pork saved to
use right now, take the neighbours some,
Other do the same as
well, almost every month a treat become,
Two hams in muslin bags
are hung, on hook in pantry cool,
The bacon too is done
the same, enough to make you drool.
Mother makes the faggots
and black puddings from the blood,
Nothings ever wasted,
fat is rendered down, the scratching’s good,
Lard for frying and
cooking, stored all in big stone jars,
Lined up in the pantry, all
the work done, by our poor old m’a.
______________________________________
I Remember Father’s Cattle
In the mid 1950’s vets were recommending worming young stock with a new product called .Phenothiazine.This was a powder and had to be mixed with water and a pint or so was pour down their throats (drenched)
I remember father counting, cattle each and every day,
He counts and looks at every one, to see they’re all OK,
Now one day he see's one cough, and then it was another.
If we don’t do something quickly, we’ll be in a bit of bother.
So off down he goes to get, some wormer in a rush,
And back he comes and reads the label, says get them in a crush,
No crush have we, but four strong lads, we’ll get them in a stable,
Mix water and green powder in a bucket, put it on the table.
Four long neck bottles we did find, for dosing all the cattle,
Phenothiozine, it’s called, and keep it stirred or it will settle,
The pop had gone as we made sure; we loved the fizzy taste,
One pint and half was dose that’s needed, over dose was waste.
Pint ladle and a funnel now, into the bottled it was measured,
Us lads went in among the stock, as tightly they were gathered,
The bottles we did pass to one, who had ones chin held high,
Uptip the med-sin to back of throat, do not look down or ni.
The cow that coughs, coughs both ends, and chuck it back they try,
Its just a waste as we were told, but hits you in the eye,
Soon learn to leave it quickly, as soon as we could shift,
As dosing cattle get there own back, now who’s being thrift.
We often wondered why we lads, had grown so big and strong,
When other lads around us, were only lean and long,
Put it down to fresh air, and read farmers weekly magazine,
But all the time it wasn’t, twas Phenothiazine.
Countryman (Owd Fred)
____________________________________
Winston the bull getting adventurous got out of his field and set off trying to find his cows that he had not seen for six months, he got the field gate open and on his way had a play with the stack of bales of straw.
When I first saw him out, the first thing was to shut the road side gate, in the meantime he had walked into the garden and had a good look round and through the kitchen window before making his way back to the Field
This is Winston our Hereford Bull on the meadows where he is with the cows |
Here he had got out of his field where he spent the winter on his own, and he knew it was time to look for his herd of cows, but he had got into the garden round the house |
He walked into the veranda over the back door of the house parting the chairs and had a look through the kitchen window |
Out through a narrow opening in the trellis, he really made it flex as he went through, keep in mind the width of his rear end in the top picture |
By the look of the straw on his back he had had a play in the bales on his way down to the house |
From here he headed back to his own field |
And this is the area of garden that Winston plundered and the veranda where we sit and have a coffee in a mornings |
_______________________________________
The stray cat Samantha (Sam for short)
Every
farm has cat or two about or even in the house, then occasionally a stray cat
will turn up, my suspicion is that some get dumped at the gate, knowing that
they will find rats or mice about the farm buildings. this one turned up and
she was huge, she looked as if she was about to give birth. But no she was
still the same five months later, and she did eventually come into the house.
And when she did eventually come in the house she really made herself at home, spread out on the kitchen table |
We’ve got a big black
stray cat, with a belly fit to bust,
Thought she’s having
kittens, within days it was a must,
Been that way for five
months now, that’s the way she’s built,
Curled up in a nest of
hay, almost like a quilt.
Very wary when
approached, must be catching plenty mice,
It was August when we
saw her; she was looking very nice,
Used to us working round
her, let her sleep and have a rest,
Doing a good job round
the farmyard, controlling all the pests.
As it got cold found
cardboard box, keep the draught at bay,
After a week or more we
moved the box, closer to our way,
Till the box was in the
porch, she spent hours curled up in their,
Fed her a few titbits
from a dish, so easy did she scare.
We put a kennel instead
of box, more comfort for the cat,
Polystyrene in the
bottom, a total insulation matt,
A fabric igloo then
insert, for comfort beyond her dreams,
Spent hours and hours
asleep in there, doing nothing so it seems
A bet was on that this
fat cat, by Christmas in the house,
And sure enough when it
got cold, into back door forget the mouse,
Did not like door the
being shut, looked for a quick way out,
So nervous in a new surrounding
looked to see who’s about.
Gradually she gained trust
in us, and found the Rayburn warm,
Made a nest off the
floor, by chimney breast, new cover adorn,
Settled in well for
Christmas, start of a new routine,
Curled up warm day and
night, a couple of breaks in between.
Lazy comes to mind right
now, as all her food is in a dish,
Only got to stand up,
and it’s all there for when she wish,
So now we’ve got to name
her, this enormous ‘two ton’ cat,
Samantha what we call
her, but for short it’s Sam, (it’s short and fat).
Countryman
Unfortunately, being a good hunter she picked up a poisoned rat from some buildings next door and ate it, this of coarse poisoned her, after numerous visits to the vets failed to save her, and she died, in fact we had her put down to save her from a horrible death all within the week
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The Suckler Cows
The suckler cows they
graze all summer, until we wean the calf,
When the calves we
take away, cows they bellow not by half,
The calves the same
in shed we keep, until they settle in,
Gates are high and
fences too, all to stop them from esca-apin.
Three days it lasts,
until they feel, the pain of hunger’s stronger,
The cows they clear
off down the field, and hang about no longer,
Calves have no choice
but stay, feed them corn and feed them hay,
One month they need
get used to living, in the yard all in a bay.
They all get wormed
and gain no weight, till frettin they’ve forgotten,
Put them out on clean
grass, feed supplements, no silage rotten,
There they will grow
and gain the weight, they lost plus plenty more,
When at last they do
get fat, read the scales its there we can’t ignore.
Countryman
These are a few picture of the cattle around the farm all taken in July 2007 ,2008 and 2011. Both Simmental and Hereford bred calves come out with a white face
This picture was taken five yrs ago when we had a Simmental bull It was taken through the branches of a young Chestnut tree near the gate |
This cows named is Chocky, notice her month/ muzzle is as wide as her eyes she is the leader of the herd |
Chocky with Winston. Looks like he's ready for action |
This is our currant bull named Winston running on the meadows with the cows. He seems to have the meat in the right places |
Four months old selection of calves all Winston's on the left out of a Simmental cow, the two black ones are Aberdeen Angus cross cows and the red one straight Hereford |
He looks a "chip off the same block" Its a Winston son from last year |
thanks for directing me to this post Fred, those are some great calves that Winston is producing.
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