I THOUGHT I heard somewhere in the dim distant past that the foot and mouth virus would be wiped out by heat. Well the hot weather doesn't seem to be working any miracles according to the DEFRA web site. Cases yesterday were up again. The Government's words that we are on the downward slope of this outbreak seem very poorly chosen. If anything the outbreak has set off onwards and upwards again.

Around us walkers and their dogs have once more started to walk the lanes and footpaths. John found a set of picnickers camped out in a gateway this afternoon. The sight of a tractor totally nonplussed them. The fact that the gateway had been left open in order to allow working vehicles through into the field had not occurred to the happy campers. They thought it had been left open for public access and were in no hurry to let John through onto his own land. Wonder how they would feel if a tractor was parked in their drive way.

Enough grizzling. We should be thankful that the dry weather has allowed all the barley and the rape to be combined and every bit of straw baled without a hitch. Well only a little hitch. After all the digs and snide remarks I have quietly endured about my lack of skill when driving a trailer, Geoffrey goes and reverses the new trailer into a bus we have parked up for a friend under the shed. A bus. The biggest target on the farm. I am of course deeply upset about the damage caused (actually very small), but found it irresistible not to tease 'crasher' about his lack of proficiency. He is barely speaking to me yet.

Normally the rape straw is crushed when the rape is combined. This year a neighbour asked if we would bale it instead as he wants to use rape bales to cover his good hay and straw. Not a bad idea as the outside bales always get spoiled by the weather. All our hay and straw comes under cover, and this has virtually eliminated any wastage. When we had a Dutch barn, the outside bales ended up growing a lush green cover as the seeds in the bales sprouted and grass and weed seeds took root.

The last barley field was big baled by a contractor. He was following the combine for most of the time, and when I brought a coffee and some scones down in the afternoon, John told me to 'keep him talking so I've got a chance to get ahead'. Dave, the contractor, and I, stood and chatted for about fifteen minutes, both of us commenting on the number of hares bolting for cover from the barley.

Meg the Labrador who was with me could scarcely contain herself, and typically Bud, the Jack Russel, didn't. Fortunately they all got away although it is not unknown for Bud to catch and kill a hare three times bigger than himself. Even with the good headstart Dave gave John, he was still back up behind the combine in five minutes.

I always think that big balers look as though they are laying an oversized egg when they release a bale. They go along the straw swath and then when a bale is ready, the tractor stops, the baler gives a brief wiggle and lifts up its rear end, and out pops a bale. Only needs a cluck for the imagery to be complete.

Updated: 14:25 Thursday, August 09, 2001