Monday, 30 August 2010

The Hermit on the Hill ....

What cows make the best spies? The ones that get past-ur-eyes’d! .... Drum roll; symbol clash; .... “Thank you very much, I’m here ‘till Thursday, try the veal and don’t forget the waitresses”.


You know your obsession with farming is acute when, after two hours of excellent comedic, Edinburgh Fringe Festival, entertainment, you are searching your memory for the corniest joke - just because it made some reference to a farm animal. Sadder still is that it bothers you that the aforementioned reference obviously lacks technical accuracy.


After a bit of day release to Edinburgh I have returned to being the Hermit of West Fife (remember: don’t ask, its very complicated) - unshaven, shouting at passers by, showering under a hose but only for special occassions and - most worryingly - talking to myself. Depressingly, my chat’s still not great even though I’m one of the few people that find me amusing.


Solitude and loneliness are too different things. I feel the former far more than the latter in the caravan but maybe that’s one of the less heralded benefits of carbon monoxide for you. (Also I cheat massively by going home at weekends). Solitude is a beneficial state and has seen me starting on the road of the Ryegrass Jedi, mentioned in a previous post. I’ve measured all the fields for pasture mass and done feed budgets as a result - ok, ok I am REALLY bored!


The calculations provided far more questions than answers. What growth rate can I budget on? What is the actual quality of the swards? Is there something wrong with my ruler - there seems to be more grass than I thought? How do I use the information to budget for tupping and for the winter and for the spring?


That’s the exciting bit (honest!). Whereas before it was a question of whether there was some grass or no grass on the day I looked; now the possibilities - that (almost) accurate planning for grass use can provide - seem endless.


For those non-believers, for those non-obsessives; I’ll end on another joke in an attempt to provide levity:


Me: Knock Knock

You: Who’s there?

Me: The Interrupting Sheep

You: The Interrupting Sh.....

Me: BAAAAA


Thank you, thank you very much, you’ve been a great audience ..... Michael has left the building.


6 comments:

Rona Amiss said...

Sounds like it's really getting bad Michael, but look you have another follower! You will be reassured to know that we are not measuring our grass because we have none and not much silage either. Even Nevil is starting to wonder what we are gong to feed the cows on this winter!
So when are you going let us know why you are abandoned in the caravan, is your snoring that awful?

julesandtim said...

When you're measuring grass that can't be smoked you know somethings wrong------

Michael Blanche said...

when you budget grass remeber that when it is bare it still measures 1400kg, also rmember to rotate your sheep to let it grow back- no i dont mean turn them over on their backs!!

dlcj said...

Hey Michael,
Knock Knock...

Michael Blanche said...

I don't have to ask the obvious question, Australian Goat herding lady with initials that threw me for a while

dlcj said...

you ruined it, "who's there?" would have been better instead of skiting about your powers of deduction