Mrs Down's Diary November 19 2008

That's the theory anyway. John has managed to sneak a field of winter beans in but with the last field ploughed and due to stand fallow over the winter, I just know that a really dry spell that might enable him to work the land down, will still tempt him to think about getting a few more acres drilled. For now though the combi-drill has been hosed down, cleaned out and put back under cover in the big shed. And he is only thinking.

Next job is bringing the herd back inside. The cows and their calves have gradually started collecting by the field gate that is opposite the farm entrance. Their grass fields stretch over about seventy or eighty acres, but the cows all now seem to hang about in the twenty acre field closest to the farm. John has been feeding them big round bales of haylage over the last few weeks as the goodness goes out of the grass, and I think they must associate this with time to come back inside.

If so, my guinea fowl chicks will need a new home. A broody bantam hatched a clutch of eggs off for me about a fortnight ago. I like guinea fowl. John thinks I am mad. "They'll never go in the hen hut" he says, and I know he is right.

I have kept them before and they took to roosting in trees. I think guinea fowl tastes delicious, rather like pheasant, and my long term plan is for these to provide me with the basis of a small flock to supplement our diet. Last time John had to resort to shooting the birds I wanted for the table, but I am hoping that I can control these birds a little better. How, I have not worked out yet.

At the moment, the guinea fowl are housed in an old dog run in the fold yard. They share their capacious surroundings with Freddie, the twin calf who has survived to the ripe old age of six months now, and who we thought would not live for six days originally. He refused to suckle, refused to drink milk out of the bucket, refused to be weaned on to a calf mix and when he finally accepted that, refused to eat any barley.

Freddie went bald, would not stand up, and would not suck off your fingers. John tube fed him for days and days. Now he has a glossy coat, is a sturdy young bullock, but still lives in his own "stable" in the big fold yard. John constructed him an enclosure with big straw bales, and he has been perfectly content with his solitary life. But, soon he will have to join in the melee of life in the bull pen with the others. That will be make or break time as he has never had any competition for his food, and whether he will be up to pushing into the barley trough is something we will find out soon.

When I say the others, I mean the calves that have been with their Mum's for all the summer are due to be weaned. Big changes ahead. Into the bull or heifer's yard, and no more contact with the cows who are hopefully all now back in calf. And a new home for my chicks.