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Oh What a Night . . . .

Cows in!

See James' tweet

Four months on . . . .

Just a reminder that for all Strickley news - and spectacular photos - you should be following James on Twitter.

Click on this link (you won't need to subscribe or sign your life away).

CLICK HERE

And to whet your appetite, here's a few recent samples. You will have to follow the link to read the words to go with the pictures!

Congratulations to James

elected

President of The Dairy Shorthorn Society

An honour not just for James, but for The Strickley Herd

Six months on

Silage 2016

Well, this is the first year we will be "going it alone" all season. Last year we took the brave/foolhardy/wise decision to invest in a Forage Wagon, and not rely on a contractor. We didn't have it for first cut (and the scheduling difficulties then partly made our minds up). You can read all about it here .

But this year not only do have the mighty machine (and a shiny new tractor), but a big new silage pit!
On Sunday evening James headed out with the (same old) mower and Henry gave the pit a final sweep. It looked very empty.

As ever we started cutting in the Teapot Field, so it was handy for the photographer.

I don't venture far into the field, so you can't really see how much grass there is. A lot apparently. But our Man in the Field took this.

James finished mowing about 10.30 pm, and next morning Henry started scaling.

Late afternoon there was a loud beep from a tractor horn - a signal that I was to rush to the usual spot and take a photo of "rowing up".

And this year there is no waiting for the contractor, so James wasn't far behind  . . .

. . . .putting the first grass in the new pit.

But it didn't all go according to plan; despite the BBC Weather Forecast and our seaweed promising a fine evening, we were struck by a heavy localised shower, So it was a relatively early night.

Things are almost going to plan today (a slight two hour stoppage re a broken link), but grass continues to come in.

Then it's back for more . . .

Don't forget - you can watch an action packed video from last year

Otters

When we were working on the bridge repairs we put in an otter holt. And we have footprints!

And they are leaving us messages (spraint)

We've got the wildlife camera setup, but so far have not captured anything as good as this (from a couple of years ago).

A

Summer is edging nearer

On Friday night (6th) the cows went back outside after milking, and looking at the forecast (and the grass) a lot of young stock will be going out this week.

Summer is edging nearer

This morning all the cows went out - lows just across the yard and into Wellbank, but the highs hopped, skipped and jumped down the track to Plucker (and over the fence of course).

And they're off! Operation #grasstomilk is a-go-go! #turnout16 #happycows pic.twitter.com/gPoAT0upAq

— James Robinson (@JRfromStrickley) April 19, 2016

Aide memoir

Yesterday (13th April) we saw our first swallow.
Photo by James

P.S. For all the latest news follow James on Twitter.

Click here

Four weeks ago today

A short film (taken when the water had gone down enough to make it safe to get out and about).

I'm sorry about the poor quality, Blogger doesn't like hi-res. It's probably better NOT to watch in full screen. I know I'm a shakey camera woman - but not that bad!

The Power of Water

About four weeks ago today we were experiencing unprecedented rainfall. The previous night we went up to Hackthorpe to the NW Dairy Shorthorn annual do (see a previous post), and the wind and rain were beginning to take hold. We drove back down the M6 (thinking rightly or wrongly that it would be less exposed to the elements than the A6 over Shap), passing several overturned lorries. We left all the cups etc in the car and dashed inside, hoping the rain would have stopped by next morning. But by then it was worse. We are on a hillside, and the stock are all inside, so we just battened down the hatches and waited for the rain to ease. Over the Sunday it did ease off and we could go down the fields to see if there was any damage. Becks had overflowed of course and only the road we had made was solid enough to travel on. But when we got down to the "indestructible" bridge we built in 2013 we found the full effect of the force of the water.

The foundations had been washed away and the bridge twisted round.

This meant that there was no way to access about 45 acres of land.

Meanwhile we returned home, across our older bridge over the other beck.

The water had come up and over it, but at first we thought it was unscathed. But, when the flood went down a bit we could see the precarious state of it's foundations.

So now there was no way to access another section of the farm.

Meanwhile the slurry pit was filling up, with the extra rain and run off pouring into it, and we needed to get some muck out, but most fields were too steep, too wet, or cut off. So we took the tractor and tanker down the lane, along the road (B6254), over St Sundays bridge and down Over Bleaze lane and through a gate onto our fields. A small manageable diversion.

But, a couple of days later "road closed" signs appeared on the bridge. It had been inspected and declared unsafe (along with 20/30 other bridges in Cumbria). The water was still high, so there was no way of assessing the extent of the damage. The council erected some temporary barriers and signs, but these didn't stop motorists (and drivers of large articulated lorries) moving them and driving over. James rang the council and asked if we should use some big bales to block the road, and was told OK.

So, by now the only way round to our lower fields is a 20 mile round trip. But we are luckier than some - we are on the Kendal side of the closure. People the other side have to travel and extra 8 or 10 miles to get into town.

Divers have been to inspect the bridge (and we have looked as best we can) and there are large cracks in the structure which may be growing. Definitely not safe to cross! No one knows how long it will be closed, probably  weeks or even months. Or how it will be fixed. Here's a couple of photographs of it unscathed.

And a few random photographs showing water and wet fields, things we have lost down the beck (bales) and things we have found washed down (the horse's head, not the boys).

And finally - a bit of irony and spooky coincidence.

On New Year's Eve we were without water, to the houses and buildings. We rang United Utilities and they worked until about 02:30 next morning to find and fix the burst on the road. The funny thing was it was 3 years and a day since the same thing happened.

Where to see all our news . . .

I know that this Blog has been neglected lately - but it's been rather superseded by up to the minute news on Twitter.

Twitter is not all celebrities' soundbites - but a glimpse into the myriad and different lives of people all over the world. I was the first at Strickley to use it (as an exercise to see if I could get the Weather Software to Tweet automatically - yes), and occasionally  post things that are of no real interest to anyone.

But, then James took it up and has never looked back. So log onto Twitter, search for James Robinson (Twitter ID is @JRfromStrickley), and click on Follow. or just click on this link. But this week is special. All year a Twitter account has been used by a different farm each week. They Tweet as many times a day as they can, about their particular farm. And this week the baton has been taken up by James - so his user name this week is @FarmersOfTheUK. Click here and follow him. He promises it will be informative and interactive (and fun).

Click here

I forgot to say (again)

With all the excitement of the new building, I forgot to say that the rest of the stock came inside last Tuesday (10th November). And after the atrocious weather this week we're really glad we did it.

So, no more driving round the fields on the bike, but more walking round the yard and buildings.

A huge sigh of relief . .

. . . was heard at Strickley last night (not least from the poor low yielders that have been roughing it outside while the lucky highs were laid in) - when the new cubicle housing was finished.

Henry and James have been working round the clock, in between "normal" farm work, and late into the night. Of course it was meant to be ready months ago, but best laid plans etc.

So just a few photos -

Fitting the feed barriers

And the cubicles

And then, after milking last night

And later at night

There's a long way to go yet. The electrician says he'll be back in a fortnight to finish off the electrics, and the builder will be back in December to replace the temporary wall (in the photo) with concrete. That will form part of the adjoining new silage pit - which be done by first cut next year. It will, won't it?

Last month

WARNING!

 This is a long rambling post, 

written over a couple of weeks (or more).

It seems a long time ago now, but last month Henry and I managed to get away for a short holiday. So much is happening here at Strickley, with progress on the new building being "steady" that memories of time spent across the sea are fading fast.

This was our almost annual get together of girls I was at college with in the late Sixties. Some manage to meet up more regularly (the retirees), but we can't always get away. Sometimes we are the hosts (no travelling or time off work, but a lot of cleaning up), but this time we were going to a posh hotel in Northern Ireland, organised by Helen who lives in County Down.

Six young at heart girls and their partners made their way by various means of transport to County Fermanagh. We were up at the crack of dawn (managing to get through the yard before the cows came in) and headed up to Cainryan. We stopped for a packed breakfast (that sounds much odder than a packed lunch!) and passed through security and into line to wait for the ferry.

We felt like old hands as we drove on - having done this once before four years ago.

We parked below deck and scrambled up the steep stairs to get a window seat at the front of the boat.

We settled down with coffee and cake as we left Scotland on what was to be an uneventful calm crossing.

We were heading for Fermanagh and having vaguely looked at the map, put the postcode into the car's SatNav. All would have been OK, if someone hadn't built a new stretch of road on the outskirts of Larne. The built in navigator kept telling us to turn right, but it was a strictly no right turn dual carriage way. Eventually we got back on track and headed west. There was another little detour at Toomebridge, when after accidentally going the wrong way down a one way street, we opted for the scenic route. I should mention that although we were on holiday, we had a timetable to keep to. I had ordered Afternoon Tea at the hotel for three o'clock. We would soon have been back on schedule, if we hadn't got behind a long line of cars following a tractor and trailer. These farmers get everywhere.Eventually he turned off and we had a couple of miles of clear road. Then we came upon a Vintage Rally - and a little old tractor just leaving. We trundled along knowing/hoping that he wouldn't be going the same way as us.

Eventually we got back on the main road and had a more or less straightforward run to the hotel. At least to part of the hotel. We knew we were on the right road and when we saw a sign saying "Manor House Country Hotel" we turned off and headed up the drive, at just about three o'clock. We found a parking space near the entrance and went to check in. There did seem to be a lot of smartly dressed people milling around, and when I had shuffled through them and into reception, I found out why. This was the entrance to the Wedding Suite and the bride and groom were due shortly. So it was back to the car and round to the main entrance.

There was a queue of wedding guests waiting to check in, and as we knew our room wouldn't be ready for an hour I asked a smartly dressed waiter where Afternoon Tea was served. He had been on the lookout for us and led us through to the conservatory and we sat down to relax. What followed was absolutely amazing. A cake stand full of wondrous things - one for each of us.

That was the start of a magical three days. The hotel was everything we had hoped for - a large room, a comfy bed, wonderful food and friendly staff. We were the first of our party to arrive (having come a day early) and had come prepared to host a bit of a get together the next day. I felt sorry for the young porter who helped us with our bags. Sparkling wine (English of course) weighs quite a lot. After unpacking and a rest we looked forward to a soak in the bath and the evening meal.

Our room overlooked Lough Erne.

Next morning, after a leisurely and late breakfast we thought we ought to buy a few more nibbles to go with our drink, so set off to M&S in Enniskillen. But shoppers are late risers in Ireland and it didn't open until one o'clock. So we had a quick look at our map and decided to drive round the lake. We had no planned route and when we saw a sign that said "Forest Drive" we followed it. We soon lost any sense of direction as the road wound up into the trees. The trees were fully grown and towered all around us, There were signs to view points along the way,and if the cloud had lifted and the rain had stopped we would have seen some magnificent views.

From the Magho Cliffs viewpoint we should have been able to see our hotel (in the bottom photo)

Maybe we'll return one day in better weather. We did see odd glimpses of the sun, but too little.

It was mainly driving rain, and photos quickly snatched between sweeps of the windscreen wipers.

Eventually we headed out of the forest and back round the lough to the comfort of our hotel.



While one of us recovered from the rigours of being on holiday I got ready for our not exactly a cocktail party and then we spent the late afternoon picking up conversations we started nearly fifty years ago. We're all older and have followed different paths (though not so different - I'm the one who didn't stick at teaching), but whatever drew us together at Clough Hall at Edge Hill is still there. A brief break to change and we carried on in the Bistro, then took a break form talking to indulging in another continuing trend from years ago - playing canasta. The hotel let us have one of the Seminar rooms and armed with drinks and savoury and sweet treats we paired off and fought it ought. Despite sitting too far from my partner (Henry) to kick him,  when he didn't put down the card I expected we proved we hadn't lost the knack of winning.

Another good nights sleep and breakfast and we were ready to see more of Western Ireland. We headed off north and west round the lough, pausing to take photos of the cliffs we been on top of yesterday. At least that was what I thought. In reality Henry had spotted a bin where he could dispose of yesterday's empty bottles (instead of shocking the hotel staff by leaving them in the room). But here's a fuzzy picture anyway

.
We passed through Beleek and into another country - the only indications being kilometre speed limits and slightly different road signs. And beeps on my phone. We were heading out towards the sea and The Wild Atlantic Way.

Four years ago we had seen the Atlantic at it's wildest, at Malin Head as the tail end of Hurricane Catriona hit the coast, so I was hopeful for some more dramatic photographs, We reached the coast at Bundoran and travelled south to Mullaghmore.

The waves were rolling in, but not very spectacularly, and the only wildness came from the sudden heavy showers.

It was now some time since out not insubstantial breakfast so we started to look fro somewhere to eat, and as we approached Sligo we found the perfect place - Henry's Bar.

We skimmed past Sligo and detoured to Strandhill, In summer this seems to be a surfers' paradise, with shops/hostels/training centres down the street to the sea. There was one brave soul out in the water, but unfortunately he fell of and disappeared just as pressed the shutter.

Mindful of the time we resisted the urge to go just a bit farther south and onto the N17 - just so we could sing along. Maybe next time. We drove back to the hotel on narrow twisty roads through villages all called Ballysomething which made reading signposts crucial.

Back at the hotel we wallowed in the bath (only one at a time - it wasn't as big as the Strickley one) and put on our finest clothes ready for an evening of fine dining. The dining room was in the conservatory and the ceiling was covered in stars and reflections of the diners.

So, Henry though this was an ideal opportunity to take the ultimate Selfie. After much trial and error, swivelling round on his chair, pointing upwards and vociferous input from the subjects, he manged to get us all in.

It won't win any prizes, but it's a unique reminder of our time together.

Next day we all moved on, most making their way back to England. We were heading for a couple of days at the hotel we stayed at four years ago at Limavady in County Antrim. So after a quick look at the map we headed off in a vague north easterly direct through The Sperrins  This was a different landscape to the green forests and hills of Fermanagh and felt quite remote in places, so it was a shock to suddenly see a sign to Limavady and realise we were almost there.

We staggered from the car park, through the long corridors to reception with our bags (still heavy with "essential supplies", having forgotten about the drop off point). We collected our key card and tried to book a table in the restaurant, noted for it's food. But it seemed times had changed and it was only open at weekends. So we had to eat in the "Brasserie". Now I've nothing against Pub Grub (especially some pubs near home), but having expected a proper restaurant and well cooked and presented food, it was a disappointment. The food was average (and so was the service and ambience). It was no place for my posh frock.

But, on the positive side, our room/suite was wonderful. We had splashed out a bit, but it was well worth it. If only the food had matched it . . .. And of course we had our own "essential supplies" and glasses.

Four years ago we had planned to visit the Giants Causeway, but car problems (thank you AA!) and a distillery tour at Bushmills, meant we ran out of time. But this time we drove past Bushmills and headed out towards the coast. The National Trust have created a visitor centre, and while impressive to look at, was a bit expensive (£9 - and no concessions for OAPs).

For an extra pound we took the bus down to the rocks. I was a bit surprised by the size of the formations, having always imagined it to be bigger. And we were more than a bit surprised by the crowds. It was midweek, late September and a drizzly day and it was teeming. School parties and coachloads of different nationalities. It was difficult to take any photographs that didn't include them. But I suppose we were on other people photos.

But some are a bit better . .

After heading back up to the visitor centre and buying a scarf (you can never have too many), we doubled back to Bushmills so Henry could spend some money. No tour this time, just a visit to the shop.

Then it was back the Causeway Coastal Route and heading south. There are some magnificent views down this route, and having previously only travelled it northwards, there were was plenty of opportunities for photo stops. This is Dunseverick Castle

And White Park Bay

and zooming in to see the cattle on the beach

and looking East

We followed the road south, turning off towards Torr Head

The road narrowed and wound down towards the coast, past the old coastguards house.

I stayed by the car while Henry bounded upwards to the old lookout station, where he could capture the 360 degree views.

From here continued south to Cushenden, but as the weather was worsening and time running out, we headed across country back to our hotel.

Looking at the map and following road signs took us through yet more different countryside - bleak moorland. We came back down to the main roads and back to the hotel and another indifferent meal (boil in the bag Thai curry? and the economical version of Beef Strogonoff).

And that was it - the end of our short holiday. A  drive south took us to Larne and the ferry home. The crossing was calm, but the weather worsened. The rainbow stretched all the way from Ireland to Scotland.

But as we sailed nearer to Cairnryan the weather cleared.

And then three and a half hours in driving rain back to Strickley.

Well done if you've got this far! And once again, please excuse my ramblings.