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Am Bratach No. 196
View from the croft gate by John MacDonald I see that regulation about the double tagging of sheep is kicking in about now. I suppose that we get used to it just as we had to do with everything else and time will pass judgement. The next thing will be a ruling requiring us to put a tag on their tails. So what does 2008 hold in store for the crofter struggling to earn enough income to balance expenditure of time, energy and investment to make it at least reasonably worthwhile? I reckon that any cold analysis would long ago have told us to pull the plug and go and do something else. So what is it about crofters and farmers which keeps us going when logic says that it is just not worth it? For a start, crofting is not a safe job which requires practically the same routine, nine to five daily, with weekends off. We have chosen a way of life very different. One way to describe it might be to say that it is a way of life set into the seasons, and because of this, it has a high degree of unpredictability. So what drives us? I suppose that high on the list must be job satisfaction. The same is true of whatever we do, but for the crofter, our main challenge is with nature and the weather. (We will leave bureaucrats out of this for the moment.) When our task is completed for the season and it has come out well, this creates a feel-good factor, and we have no end of possibilities to create a feel good situation. At the moment I am feeding the animals their winter ration; come the Spring and they are all alive and in good condition, I will feel very satisfied. When the calving and lambing comes along and passes with a minimum of hassle and we have healthy arrivals, I feel good. If I have to build or repair a fence or dyke, weld up a broken implement, clean out a shed, tidy up the place, etc I feel good because I achieved something. I find one of the satisfying tasks is to plough a field. If the job goes well, all the furrows lie even and you have kept a line straight enough to impress the most critical eye, as well as the neighbours, this is good. But ploughing a field has another bonus: you are opening a blank page and it lies there at your command. Well, at least until the weeds start to grow. If what you sow throws a good crop, you feel good. Likewise, the hay or silage crop — when it is over and secure under roof or plastic, we feel good. Once the sheep clipping had been done and the wool collected, again we feel good. Not so common today is the satisfaction which comes in having the peats all home and the tattie field cleared and the crop in the pit. The list goes on but you get the drift. Of course there is always the downside of all this: when things go wrong — and there is always the danger that something will go wrong — this just heightens the satisfaction of getting things right. We hope this will be a year without animal health scares: we have had enough of those. This Blue Tongue threat seems to be creeping nearer. They say that the midge is a carrier, so we rather hope that all this frost we have had will keep them low for a long enough time to allow farms to get over the present scare. If not, it could be a serious business. Especially when it appears that there is no compensation in line for those who become victim to it. One cannot help but think of the saying, “The straw that broke the camel’s back.” These last few years we have complained about the lack of frost and how too many bugs survive the winter. What scientific basis there is in this, I know not, but it is a general perception. At least, this winter, the bugs should suffer a bit. I notice that plants have acted more in keeping with what we expect them to do in winter, keeping their heads down and not pretending it is Spring. Our bird feeders have been very busy and costing a fortune in peanuts, but it is fascinating to sit for a while and take in the activity which goes on. Nothing exciting or out of the ordinary on our bird table so far, but you never know. What we do have is a shed full of pheasants. The field of swedes kept them going for a long time and now that this food supply has gone, they come inside at night for shelter and scratch about in the bedding straw. It is time that I reduced their numbers before their season ends or they get thin. A roast pheasant goes well with swede. I have been awaiting a visit from the estate keepers and their entourage but it has not come about. Perhaps since I bought this part of the croft they think that they have given over the shooting rights. I am not going to say otherwise and the pheasants are happy. I must admit that around Christmas
time I did think that we were due some little treat in compensation
for all the tatties spoiled, so I got the old 16-bore out and
went hunting. Well, not really hunting — the blessed birds
were that accustomed to me walking about that they took little
notice of my sinister intent. It was like taking a shot at the
wife’s hens. I got one and winged another which made off.
It landed among the rushes beside the burn and tried to hide.
The collie flushed it out and it then took to the burn and swam
across to the other side to try and hide under the bank. This
necessitated crossing the burn which was running fairly high
and did not make things easy. I got the wellies full. The bird
hid himself pretty well, but nature had endowed him with a handicap,
a long tail which cannot be tucked away, and so I reached down
and pulled him out. We enjoyed our Sunday dinner. |