Tup walked a mile for love (From Gazette & Herald)

Tup walked a mile for love

JOHN has brought several of the ewes inside, as he envisages an early lambing for them. They were the recipients of a visiting Suffolk tup's charms at the end of September.

The tup had taken advantage of some weak fences and sparse hedges to cross over from a farm a mile or so away inland. Passion is a powerful thing.

He was unceremoniously escorted back to his own farm the next morning, but overnight had worked his way through several of the ewes, all of which are now bagging up for lambing, with udders bursting with milk.

The sheep probably think it's perfect lambing weather. Depths of winter. Snow . Sleet. Sub zero temperatures. What better time to bring a frail little lamb into the world. The weather will soon put paid to any of that bothersome maternal thing. They have now been thwarted in their infanticidal drive by the erection, under the barn, of a snug, straw-lined shelter, complete with individual lambing pens. The rest of the flock are not due to lamb until March and consequently are huddled up under hedges in the field. Not for them the comforts of a big shed. That'll teach them to be a bit quicker off the mark next time when chance comes calling.

The winter weather has little effect on our cattle which are inside creating a warming fug in the foldyard. The only time it bothers them is if the water troughs freeze over, but this does not happen as frequently as it did several years ago. Now, with the rebuilding of the sheds, most of the pipes are under cover and it is only occasionally that the water pipes freeze. You wait. They will all be frozen this week now that I have written that.

Our eight greylag geese and seven Muscovy ducks pick their way with great dignity and care through the sleety puddles in the paddock. It is difficult to imagine if their webbed feet get cold. They must do, as there is not much protection there. Just some skin stretched between the bones, hardly any insulation at all.

I, however, am clad in the supreme height of leather-lined Wellington luxury, purchased at a fraction of their price from a bewildered assistant in a London sports superstore who did not seem to have met many Londoners who bartered the price down, had been stuck with this pair for ages, and could not envisage who would want to buy leather lined wellies. Why me of course. And my cold feet.

A big question is whether to wear wellies or not on the Countryside March. Yes, I shall be banging on about that toddle down London's leafless lanes for a week or two to come. Does one go the full countryside hog and merge with a background of green/brown sludge, wear wellies etc, or do you aim to be noticeable to your family and friends when walking and wear a red scarf, red hat, red jacket and perhaps a pair of red stiletto heels to stand above the crowd. Horror of horrors might be seen then to be supporting New Labour, or even Old Labour. Can't wear blue for the same reason. Or yellow. Black for the mourning then. Or grey for chic and not to fit in with anything at all, that's more, my style.

Talking about walking, just recently I was involved in discussions about setting up a 'Walking Bus' to a school. The idea was that children should walk a set route under the charge of some responsible adults, preferably parents, and that children could join the Walking Bus at a set number of stops. Very environmentally friendly, encouraged walking, punctuality etc.

After several letters, questionnires etc a meeting was set up with the parents. One turned up. To enquire about the job of driving the bus.

Updated: 14:26 Thursday, February 08, 2001