I am no stranger to killing.

I am very unsettled by an event which occurred last night. I was driving home following a birthday party for one of the grandchildren. It had been a successful day, the party had run smoothly, the children and been well behaved and it had been a pleasant day seeing all of my children together on the one day. Something that rarely happens now except at occasions such as parties or funerals. The journey home had been long but largely uneventful and, after 5 hours in the car, I was nearing home. It had turned dark and I was now driving in the narrow roads of the countryside.

As I turned a bend it was clear that something was happening on the road ahead. There were flashing amber warning lights on my side of the road and on the other carriageway there was a line of headlights. I thought there has been an accident and there is now a queue in the road. I slowed down to stop and pulled in behind the stationary car. As I did so I saw something in the middle of the road. This was clearly causing the blockage as there were a group of people clustered around and obviously concerned. Worried in an accident someone may have been knocked down I got out of the car as quickly as I could to see if my medical skills were going to be required.

What I saw was a terrible sight. On her back, in the middle of the road, was a welsh mountain ewe of about 4 years old. She was clearly badly injured and distressed. In the middle of the throng of people she was trying to make her escape but no matter how much she flailed with her single back leg she could not help herself. Her other rear leg was misplaced and broken. She had an expression of terror and pain as she writhed on the carriageway illuminated by the headlights of the stopped cars. Silent as she waved her leg trying to get purchase in the air and escape from the crowd who surrounded her jabbering and shouting.

Nobody had approached her and I went forward to check her injuries and to move her from the road into the side. As I neared and leant down I saw that her abdomen had burst open and her stomachs and intestines were strewn on the road and underneath her. She had lost a lot of blood but was still conscious. As I examined her further it was clear that she had massive injuries from which she would not recover. I started to notice that the jumble of voices I could hear were a group of young men, with eastern European accents,  shouting “kill it, kill it”. They like me knew that the ewe had no hope of survival but was unfortunately conscious and suffering.

I had only seconds to make a decision. I needed to euthanize the sheep there and then. I needed to swallow any reservations I might have had and needed to end this ewe’s suffering, but I  had nothing to hand to make this an easy task. Nor did anyone in the crowd. I saw a dry stone wall, and saw that within it there was a large boulder which might be loose. With a strength I don’t normally possess I managed to pull the boulder out and carry it to the ewe – with one movement – the sheep was dead. I was able then to move her body off the road and leave the man, who had collided with her, on the phone to the police to report the accident.

Now I am no stranger to killing, as a smallholder, I have to dispatch stock when the time is right. However, when I have to do this (and it is never an easy task), I have the knowledge that the animal has had a good life and will not suffer during the process. I rear them for this end  and see it as part of the circle of life. At times I think that the death that we serve to our stock is better than the death that I can expect myself. It occurs without warning or expectation  and without pain or suffering. I fear when my turn comes it is likely to be with an awareness of the imminent end and after a period of suffering, slightly prolonged by (what finally prove to be) futile medical interventions.

But this ewe’s death unnerved me. She did suffer. It was pointless and ignoble, there was no part of it which was positive. Her body will be discarded as waste. Sheep are flock animals but she spent her last minutes alone, away from her flock, under the glare of lights and amid the hubbub of strange noises. Some were complaining that she was “just there in the middle of the road” as if she had broken the highway code and it was her fault. She had been doing what sheep do; walking slowly looking for greenery to eat. We were doing what people do; driving fast, trying to get somewhere else as quickly as possible. In the countryside we have to coexist and manage to live together. Sheep can’t stop being sheep but can stop being the idiots who don’t think about them.

 

 

 

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A day of blood and guts.

A day of blood and guts.

Today has gone to plan and has been, as hoped, a day of blood and guts. We dealt with the lungs, heart and livers yesterday and the big shock of the day was eating the billy goat’s liver. I had anticipated that this would be very strong tasting and was slightly worried that it might be malodourous, as I had heard that the smell of billy goats can carry through into the meat. I am glad to say there was no odour whatsoever and, more importantly the liver tasted lovely. We had it pan fried with some onions and only a minimum of seasoning with salt and pepper. It was mild in flavour, rather like lambs liver, and not at all as strong as beef or pig liver.

Today continued with the management of the offal. In the morning we coated the skins again with salt. We have about 10kg of salt over the skins and it is drawing all the fluid out of the skins as brine. They are lying on inclined hurdles so that the brine drips off onto the gulley in the middle of the barn’s floor. At the moment the skins only need a little work each day to top up the salt but after_20180118_200316.JPG the weekend they will start to demand a lot more of our attention and work. The major tasks for the day were the finish off the lungs, make the blood tofu an deal with the tripes.

The lungs had been in the dehydrator overnight and now were well complexly dry and ready to be packed. We vacuum seal these and they last well in the refrigerator. We have found that, doing this, they will keep for at least a year. Our dogs are still enjoying the treats that we prepared last year.

The next task was to clean the stomachs. DSC_2679 (2)To do this it is necessary to cut away the spleen and intestines from the sheeps’ stomachs. Sheep have four stomachs and these will be full of grass in various stages of digestion. This needs to be washed out. We have found that standing in the stream with a sharp knife or scissors if the easiest way to do this. Mind you, however you do this job it is not glamourous.

We have found that sheep tripe is not as good as that DSC07289from cows but we know two who think it is the greatest thing in the world – our dogs. They are very enthusiastic for tripe as can be seen in their rapt attention as I cut it into strips. We then add this to the scrap (old and bendy) carrots we have left over at the end of the year. We boil the carrots and mince them with the tripe to make dog food. (We mince them so the dogs can’t eat around the carrots like children – eating the tripe and leaving the vegetables).

The last job for the day was to make the blood_20180118_200549.JPG “tofu” or “curds”. The blood which we collected had clotted and we cut the clot into lumps with a sharp knife.  These lumps are then put in salted boiled water and they harden. We don’t add anything to make the equivalent of black pudding or blood sausage. This was partly due to lack of planning as we didn’t have oatmeal or seasoning to hand. Next year we hope to do this. The way we have prepared them this time, they are rather bland tasting.  I can see why they are  often used in broths which themselves have a lot of  flavour. In a broth like this the curds bring protein and vitamins to the meal rather than any particular taste.

We had visitors while we were busy this afternoon. The kitchen unfortunately looked a little like a charnel house with tripes on the table and blood being boiled on the stove. I had the feeling as they sat there that they felt that it might be easier just to go to the supermarket. However, as we talked and remembered the meals of our youth they remembered that meat is a precious thing. It is best seen as a special part of the meal a treat not something commonplace.  We remembered meals, like neck of lamb, pork belly or cheeks, which were eaten when we were young because they were the cheaper. They were the bits of meat that people didn’t want to buy and our mothers used these cheaper cuts, or offal,  in recipes to eke out their budget. Unfortunately the methods of cooking using these cuts has been gradually forgotten and this amnesia causes us to miss many excellent dishes. Try and buy mutton now, you will have difficulty. However, it is true to say that most farmers will tell you mutton is superior in taste to lamb but it has fallen out of fashion. If you get the opportunity to try it you should take it, you will be pleasantly surprised.

 

 

 

An offal day.

An offal day.

Life, as a small-holder,  is obviously seasonal. Tasks come around with an inevitable regularity and we have busy and quiet spells. We seem to live between peaks and troughs; periods when things are going well and life seems good,  and times when everything seems to be wrong. The latter is usually related to problems with the animals and their health. It is rarely due to anything else.

Sometimes it is just busy and it is difficult to squeeze everything into the available daylight. Haymaking, especially by hand, is one such task -we are bound by the weather and the sunlight and I don’t recall ever working as hard (physically or mentally) as when we try to get the hay into the barn before the rains come and we lose it. Another such period started today with the dispatching of our lambs and our billy goat (He had done his allotted task as we think our nannies are now both pregnant, though we don’t have the certainty or luxury of scanning).

Each year we meet this busy week, where the fruits of the labours of the past year have to be gathered in. The tasks have to be done in a set order and within a set timescale and there is little room for error or we risk spoiling our harvest.  The work starts the day before we dispatch the lambs. We need to create a holding pen and  bring them in for the night. This allows us to dry their fleeces so they will be easier to work with and ensures they fast overnight which makes the following mornings job much easier.

I used to fear this part of the life, and even considered vegetarianism, but now I am quite happy with the process we have. The lambs never leave our farm, they move into the barn on their last night and this is not a strange place for them and they have experience of being fed and sheltered there. In the morning they move into the holding pen and are brought in, one by one, for slaughter. Thankfully, they seem blissfully unaware of what is about to happen and they have only a few seconds of worry before it is all over. Had they lived, they would have had more distress during the year when I would have to go through the same process to shear them, give them their antibiotics or trim their hooves, so I am certain they have had a good life and a reasonable good death (Probably a better death that I will experience I am sorry to say).

The morning that we dispatch them we startDSC07277 early and work quickly to minimise the time this all takes. But this is only the start of a very busy day. As we are trying to be self-sufficient, and out of respect to the animals, we do not want to waste any part of the animal if it can be avoided some things that would be considered waste in a commercial abattoir are important to us. Even the blood that occurs at death we collect; after this has clotted, this can be made into blood meal and blood curds which helps feed our vegetable garden and our dogs. But all the while the clock is ticking and time is against us.

The carcasses we have to hang for a few days. Therefore DSC_2670 (2)after dressing the carcass we have relatively little to do to it for the next two days. It is the offal that needs our attention. However, before we even start the work on the offal we need to protect the skins. Once the skins have dried we cover these with salt. This is the start of a four day preserving process for the hides. Later we will tan the hides and hopefully turn these into throws and rugs. But for now we must salt inspect the hides daily.

Salting the hides is a pretty ‘hands on’ job as you need to work the salt into all areas of the skin. However, at this stage the hide is not that unpleasant to work with. The same can not be said fo the next task. We need to separate out the various forms of offal, the liver, the tripes, the hearts, and the lungs.  Parting the offal into its component parts, DSC07272and discarding the gallbladders (we have not found a use for bile yet) is not a task for the squeamish or delicate but it needs to be done to keep the tripes away from the other components. The tripes we will wash and prepare tomorrow as there would not be enough time today

The next part of the offal to work with is easy – the hearts. These are just  washed then vacuumDSC07280 sealed in bags and put in the freezer. We find that the dogs are very partial to heart meat but we too enjoy it.  However, we find that they need to be cooked very well – even though these are very young animals – slow braised stuffed hearts is a good recipe to try with this meat.

Next we deal with the lungs. We cut theseDSC07281 and the windpipes into very small pieces and then dehydrate them.  This produces a treat for the dogs which can be vacuum packed and which lasts for ages. We were still using some a year after we make the batch. The dogs go wild for these treats which are nearly all protein with very little fat at all. All our friends’ dogs, who visit the house, know where we keep these treats and also vote them a great favourite.

Lastly, for today, we prepare the liver. DSC07279This means little more than removing any membranes, washing and packing. However, it also gives rise to the best part of the day and also one of the highlights of the year. Fresh liver, lightly fried on the day it was collected, is one of the best meals you can imagine. While I think our lamb, chicken and duck all taste fine I know that I have tasted equally as good meat from the butcher or supermarket. However, fresh liver like this is way superior to any liver we might buy and at the end of a busy day, and the start of a busy fortnight, an ample reward for all the work.


P.S. This was the first time I had tasted goat’s liver. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was very like lamb’s liver though, if anything, a little milder in taste.

 

 

 

 

Ivy and Hangovers.

Ivy and Hangovers.

Over the last few days I read Ralph Waldo Emmerson’s essay “Self Reliance“.  I was attracted to it by its title and also because, I am ashamed to say,  I had never read any of his work.  Although I enjoyed it greatly I have reservations about recommending this book to others as I must confess that it is now rather dated. The language to the modern reader is rather inaccessible and many aspects of the vocabulary seem rather archaic. This having been said, I still think that the essay is worthy of your time and effort.

It may seem a little counter-intuitive but I have found that reading classic works like this on an e-reading platform, such as the kindle, is very valuable. It may, at first, seem unusual to suggest using our modern gadgets to access the literature of the ancients but there are two reasons I would recommend this.

Firstly, many of these classics are no longer hampered by copyright issues and are therefore available either freely or at very low prices.  While there are relatively cheap editions of the classics available in the traditional paper format (Dover Thrift Editions for example) but there is still an upfront cost however modest. This can be off-putting when taking a chance on literature which may prove dated and difficult to read.  E-books of the classics are usually available free of charge and this makes it much easier to take the chance and try something we might otherwise have missed. (The Project Gutenberg site is an excellent place to start looking for the classics, in a variety of e-book formats, epub, kindle, html and plain text.) In this manner, there is a whole world of literature and thought available to us at very little expense. These works have already been filtered and selected as they have stood the test of time : these are the works which were not fickle, nor were they unimportant, and the works  which still talk to us and our predicaments thousands of years after they were written.

Secondly, I have found that when I tackle these books I am much less cultured than were the original readers of these books. Though I consider myself well educated and fairly knowledgeable it is clear that a wider, better awareness of The Classics was presumed by these writers. Indeed, it was previously felt that a study of the classics, and the humanities, was one of the cornerstones of a well rounded education. I do not have this so many references are lost on me. For example, Emmerson bemoans that he has “no Lethe” to help him in this essay. This reference, like many others, initially meant nothing to me until, with the help of wikipedia on the e-reader, I discovered that the Lethe was the river of forgetfulness and oblivion which flowed in Hades. With this knowledge everything made sense.

Though I was drawn to this essay by its title; this is an essay on personal, mental or spiritual self-reliance, not self-reliance in the quotidian, material sense. This is an essay promoting individualism and self-reliance of the soul. In this he urges us to be true to our own thoughts and opinions, not to be shackled by unnecessary attempts to be consistent :-

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. “Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.” Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? .. .. To be great is to be misunderstood.

He reminds us that institutions are the consequence of individual’s thoughts :-

An institution is the lengthened shadow of one man; as, Monachism, of the Hermit Antony; the Reformation, of Luther; Quakerism, of Fox; Methodism, of Wesley; Abolition, of Clarkson.

and that change likewise starts with the individual :-

Every revolution was first a thought in one man’s mind, and when the same thought occurs to another man, it is the key to that era. Every reform was once a private opinion, and when it shall be a private opinion again, it will solve the problem of the age.

He is clearly of the opinion that discontentment and unhappiness arise from failures in self-reliance and dishonesty with oneself. It is an interesting essay which, I’d venture, gives a useful other strand to aiming for autarky or self-sufficiency – a valuable mental self reliance which helps when one has to cope with adversity or hardship. Those looking for advice on how to be more self-contained and resilient will find much of value in this short essay.

Returning the more prosaic aspects of self-reliance; I found that I needed to deal with some poor hedges and trees this winter. These were heavy with ivy and I needed to co-opt the goats into the job. At this time of year there is little greenery for the sheep and goats to browse and they are therefore very grateful to see the leaves of the holly, ivy and brambles.  I find when clearing ivy it is useful to let the goats at it first. They strip every green leaf and make the movement of the branches much lighter and easier. Also, at this time of year, it is useful winter fodder and saves on out hay usage (both for the goats and sheep).  In this way we make a crop out of weed.

The Billy goat and nannies also providedrinking-bacchus.jpg!HD pleasant company during what is an annoying job. I like to see them eating and enjoy knowing that I have saved some hay rations (especially as we had a poor hay harvest this year). I feel rather guilty that we don’t make more use of the ivy wood as it feels wasteful to throw it away. It does not burn green and is quite difficult to stack , because of the differing shapes, to dry well enough to make kindling. It also seems to take an age to dry properly.

I have looked for other uses for it but have had relatively little success. One option seems to be to make wreaths of ivy. According to folklore wearing wreaths of ivy protects against the effects of alcohol. This is the reason Bacchus, the Roman god of inebriation, wore ivy wreaths to prevent him getting drunk. Sprigs of ivy can also help with marital fidelity, hence ivy is often included in wedding bouquets. Unfortunately, neither of these two uses will consume the amount of wood that I have to deal with and now that Hogmanay is passed I have little need for either. So I remain on the lookout for other, probably more productive, uses for Hedera Helix wood though I think I will cut a very dashing impression next time I am in the pub.

Sheep and true democracy.

Sheep and true democracy.

It is fair to say I will never be described as saintly; I have never mastered piety, my good works, such as they have been, are mundane, and  I too easily slip into my vices. I imagine, that the majority of us, I am better described as a sinner than as a saint. However, over the past year and a half I have developed a saintly aspect, rather small but perfectly formed, I have developed the patience of a saint and I have needed it.

I live and work in a rural, agricultural part of the country where the majority of my neighbours, mainly farmers, voted in favour of Brexit. I tend, like my friends, to have liberal views and to be welcoming of change. I also voted in favour of Brexit. Since the referendum there has been a steady barrage of complaint – “How did you come to make this dreadful mistake ? The area you live in needs EU money. Farming can’t manage without subsidies ?Without the EU illiberal policies will threaten the fabric of our civil society”

Now it is perfectly reasonable that after a vote discussion will continue. I am sure that, had the vote had gone the other way,  I would still have argued my cause. But the wilful blindness which refuses to see any shades of grey in an argument is starting to become irksome. The tendency  so see every mishap as a consequence of our impending exit from the EU is largely boring. Having kept up with the newspapers,  I am sure after we leave, by failing to be part of the European Weather Consortium, we will be prone to worse winters and plagues of frogs. The Guardian and Independent, in particular, now have become almost mirror images of the Daily Mail in their search for hysterical straplines.

This, however, is not the problem. This is just the normal push and shove of political debate and anyone with an IQ adequate to be literate can see this and handle the details appropriately. Where my patience is stretched is peoples’ inability to see the larger issue. Again and again it was stated that people voted for Brexit to “take back control“, some people argued the issue in terms of ‘sovereignty’ others in terms of a ‘democratic deficit’ which had developed over the years. All argued that democracy was less effective in the EU as decision making had become remote and removed from the people. For most people who voted for Brexit this was the single biggest issue – Democracy works when people are involved in it, not otherwise.

Now this is the first stress on my saintly patience.  I like others voted to improve democracy but now I am told I voted for lots of other (usually disreputable) reasons and we really need to look again at the vote because we got it wrong. So, just like the Irish after their wrong decision in their first referendum on the Lisbon treaty, we are being encouraged to “do it again but get it right this time“. I am sorry if this sounds harsh, but can these people not see the irony of questioning a referendum that voted for greater democratic involvement and suggesting that the “experts” know better and we better vote again.

The second stress on my saintly demeanour is when we are rebuked for failing to see the financial benefits that the EU gives us and, without which, we would be in dire straits. The maths are easy, the UK is a net contributor to the EU, so we give more in than we get out. Precise figures aside we can decide how to spend this money. It is suggested that this will be better done by bureaucrats in Brussels rather than bureaucrats in London, especially when this argument is played to a Scots or Welsh ear. Why on earth should this be the case ? Apart from having a racist tinge to it, “Those terrible English”, it also seems so improbable. A bureaucrat in London has a shared history and culture with us, he has probably heard of Falkirk and Fishguard, he probably has family members and friends from our area of the world, he may have even had a romance with someone who hailed from our neck of the woods. This bureaucrat might just conceivably be on our side! But even if not we could vote them out if they let us down, something impossible for the politicians making the decisions in Europe.

And finally, there is the stress to me and my sheep. My activities, and my neighbours, are controlled by the Common Agricultural Policy. For over a generation this has set all aspects of agricultural policy in the U.K. –  No planning, no development, no vision, no change has started here. Do you know who is the Minister of Agriculture ? (*)  When was the last time you heard discussion of our farming policies ? In a rural area, such as where I live, we need to be able to think about agriculture, it is the very stuff of life and not something that can be left to bureaucrats. Especially when the plans these bureaucrats create result in subsidies to Lord Iveagh of £900,000 a year or the poor racehorse owner, Khallid Abdulla Al Saud, getting only £400,000 annually. If public money is going to subsides agriculture we need to democratically control how it is used. This means bringing the control back to the area where the activity occurs and to the people who do the work and know what can and should be done. No-one wants subsidies that allow inappropriate businesses and practices to thrive, we don’t want a repeat of butter mountains nor wine lakes, and we can only avoid this by closer democratic scrutiny and accountability. The same fate that affects my sheep has also affected the fish through the Common Fisheries Policy and many other areas of industry.

Tony Benn was right when he said that the suggesting EU membership was “asking the British people to destroy democracy” because if ‘you cut the umbilical cord that links the lawmakers with the people, you destroy the stability of this country’. So, as a first step, let is get power brought back from Europe to Westminster, then from Westminster to Edinburgh and Cardiff, and hopefully later even more closely to home. We need to review and improve our agriculture and stewardship of the land. The changes needed will be best decided locally and what works well in Meirionydd may not be the best plan for Morbihan nor Mecklenburg-Vorpommern. Brexit is an opportunity to refresh our democratic involvement and to refresh our industries, let us not waste it.

By all means point out my errors and explain why European Union can be a beneficial thing. I know the reasons I voted and, I am sad to say, that I am more certain as the  undemocratic nature of the EU has become evermore apparent; in its both its handling of the Brexit negotiations and its stance towards Catalonia). Explain routes to counter these problems, see if you can get the EU to rekindle interest in subsidiarity, suggest alternative plans, but lets be constructive in our debate on the future. Don’t force sainthood on me by testing my patience by obdurate calls that the majority of the populace was stupid and hoodwinked. Please don’t repeat your mantra “forgive them, for they know not what they do”, I did know and if necessary would do it again.

 

 


(*) A trick question as it has been merged into the Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs and it is Michael Gove, for the time being


While the Daily Prompt prompted this tirade it was also triggered (and there was no trigger warning!) by the excellent article by Jon Holbrook on spiked-online.

Pheasants and Brambles

The last days of autumn are with us and the snow on the hilltops suggest winter is not far away. The work on the smallholding has changed accordingly. It is this gently changing rhythm that makes life so pleasant. I recall my days working; when each day was similar to the last, the same challenges faced day after day, the same routines whether it was winter or summer, Monday or Friday.

However, one task I coulDSC_0006.jpgd happily avoid is the freeing of sheep from the briar patches. At this time of year one of the few sources of greenery for the sheep is the bramble. They love bramble leaves, almost as much as ivy leaves, but unfortunately as it is the end of the year they are also wearing their thick coats. While the sheep pushes itself into the briar patch its fleece acts as armour to protect it from thorns. However, this spurs them on to go deeper into the thicket when they them get stuck as the tendrils of the brambles get caught up in their wool. They get stuck sound, unable to move, and at risk of dying from thirst and starvation.

At this time of year we need to do four checks a day and to be armed with secateurs and thick gloves every time. We will try and clear these patches and the goats are great allies in this. They too like eating brambles but are more agile than sheep and don’t carry the thick fleece which causes them to be trapped. By the end of the month, after everyone’s work, we should be out of the woods as far as this problem is concerned.

Diet also changes with the season.DSC_0007.jpg Not just in the concerning seasonal fruits and vegetables but also our meats.  It is always this time of year that we have a flurry of pheasant meals. Usually shot by ourselves but today courtesy of someone who enjoys the shoot but not the product. I can understand why some people are not keen on pheasant. The first few times we ate it I was decidedly unimpressed. I think the problem is that roast pheasant can often be a dry meat and sometimes quite bitter as well.

However, having tasted pheasant and other fowl in casseroles I have been converted and now it is something I start to look forward to in October, knowing in November and December there will be a surfeit of game fowl. The best recipe is probably the simplest and uses root vegetables and cider as described below :-

 

  • Skin the pheasants and take the breast and leg meat. Don’t bother trying to pluck them as this is unnecessary work and adds little to the final meal.
  • Brown the meat in a casserole dish.
  • Add whatever vegetables you have to hand. We usually use celery, turnip, parsnip, celeriac, leek and onion. Fry these with the meat to soften the leeks and onions. If you have any cooking apples add a couple.
  • Season with salt, pepper, thyme, parsley, and marjoram.
  • Add a can of cheap cooking cider and water to cover the whole things
  • Slow cook in a low oven until everything is ready.
  • Serve with creamy potato mash and cabbage

 

A perfect autumn or winter meal, warming after an afternoon in the cold pulling sheep out of the briars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chantrelles

Chantrelles

I think that Autumn is my favourite season; the hard work of summer is over, the fruits of the spring are ready to be collected and the harshness of winter is still a while away. This is particularly so this year, after what has been a disappointing summer. Mostly warm and wet, it has caused us problems with the sheep and meant we have been unable to take hay. Twice we have had sheep who have had fly strike. Though they have survived, by dint of debridement and Stockholm tar, this was a terrible experience for both them and us. And, barring a miraculous Indian summer (or Haf bach Mihangel  as we say around here) in October we will have to buy hay this winter. So, I am keen to see October arrive and know that the damned flies, and risk of fly strike, will soon be gone.

However, perhaps the main reason for enjoying this season is because it is the time you can enjoy the fruits of your labours and sometimes fruits without any labour at all.  This time of the year we usually get a good crop of chantrelle mushrooms in the wood and this year has been no exception. They provided us with a few meals which required nothing more than what we can make on our own plot of land. My favourite was the chantrelle soup the recipe for which is below. This is a luxurious soup, warm, smooth and filling and better than any mass produced soup you may buy. Wonderful when its cost is measured in pennies !


Chantrelle Soup

  • Large bag of chantrelle mushrooms_20170925_143707
  • 2 Onions
  • 3 Cloves of garlic
  • Pint Chicken stock
  • Pint Keffir
  • Salt
  • 3 tablespoons of butter
  • Flour

Soften the onions and garlic by frying gently for 5 minutes in the butter. Add the mushrooms and continue to fry gently for a further 8  minutes. Add the flour and mix to  a smooth consistency. Add the milk and stock and simmer for 20 minutes. Salt and pepper to taste.