The Nuffield Scholarship experience of a man with the dreamer's disease and no medication. The mission - to find out how new entrants and first generation farmers can build viable agricultural businesses.
October 29th. Michael Blanche’s last stand. 12 minutes in front of a lot of people. The crescendo of the Nuffield Experience. His only weapon ... the use of the “eeeemmmm” word.
No one was harmed during the filming of this video but a proportion of the audience did have to receive medical assistance with the aid of a defibrillator. Doctors blamed the intensity of boredom the individuals had to endure, slowing pulses to a point the heart loses the will to live. Click on the link, go on, I dare you! Nuffield Conference Farewell
To say I got “quite into” my Nuffield experience is suppressing the true concerning fact that I got far too obsessed with things. But a side effect of this was I did try really, really hard.
This is perhaps reflected best in my Nuffield Report. It was meant to be 20 pages long, I wrote 65. It was interminable but was a bit like an exorcism for me. My brain was so full of thoughts it needed to get them out.
I feel better now.
Someone told me I’d regret incorporating Miley Cyrus lyrics into it. Maybe one day, but pathetically I revel in being the first Nuffield Scholar to do this and to have a discography in their report.
I wrote a post way back in July 2010 called The Yoda of the Ryegrass Plant. It was about a man in the Waikato who opened a whole new room in agriculture for me .... grass (I now always feel obliged to follow this word with the sound “phooaaarrr” then an exclamation mark ... !).
Its struck me since in my delusional brain that life is a lot like Star Wars (though perhaps not the prequels). Feeling “The Force” is symbolic of wisdom, knowledge, the grasping of internal strength. The Dark Side could always do with more recruits - I should know, I’ve been headhunted a couple of times. Wise men, teachers, like Yoda and Obe Wan come and go from your day to day life. Sometimes you don’t realise unless they are green with pointy ears or have a cool cloak and a light sabre but they do come to all of us.
And so it was that the most disorganised man of Nuffield 2010 “organised” a trip to France in June to see a man who came highly recommended by a Kiwi grass nut. The Fabulous Four were me and the three grazing gurus of my Nuffield group - Rhys Williams, Kevin Beaty and Malcolm Edward Fewster (known by either forename and indeed other names).
It was a 4 day road trip from Brittany to the Mediterranean via the Pyrenees in the company of John Bailey - an Irishman by birth, naturalised Frenchman, New Zealander by training and attitude. We saw subdivisional grazing systems of all types - paddock, cell, techno, rational. Dairy, beef, sheep. I learnt so much from those on that trip. I’ve kept in contact with John/Obe Wan and he is coming over in 10 days to give me advice on setting up the ultimate grazing system (any more details and I’ll spoil another story).
The real John Bailey
I read a book recently - Knowledge Rich Ranching by Allan Nation. Nation says that to progress from little to a lot you need what he calls an “Unreasonable Advantage” - an idea, an innovation, a practice, something that separates you from normal practice. Something that adds significantly to your profit. The Unreasonable Advantage should be the Holy Grail for all first generation farmers. I think I’ve found my Holy Grail. Subdivisional grazing, managed right, means twice the production and half the cost per hectare for a beef or sheep operation. I’m convinced of it. I just have to implement it.
Obviously - the Holy Grail, France and me being a bit clueless? That can only mean ...
I left you last still on my UK road trip. The legend that is David Sullivan. Though that post was written in September, the visit was in June. Having seemed to have bionic blogging powers (strictly measured by quantitative outcomes not qualitative ones obviously), I hit the blog buffers in June and never blogging recovered. For some reason the drive to write deserted me. Now 3 months after my last post and 6 months after the last recorded incident, I come back to tie the loose ends and move on.
A story has to have a beginning, middle and end. That’s bothered me - if no one else - so I’m going to do three more posts after this, then say a proper goodbye. OK it might be four posts but it will definitely be no more than twenty.
I entered a Farmers Weekly column “contest” in September. Although I made it to the short list of six, I didn’t make it all the way. Weirdly, though I was chuffed at this result, it made me lose confidence in writing so apologies for the posts that follow. I’m just going to grit my teeth, hold my breath and get it over with - feel free to bale out at any time.
A three year old trapped inside a 41 year old body. Michael just loves farming, especially sheep. He has 650 ewes and pretends to be an agricultural consultant on the side. All land is on seasonal lets 35 miles from home. He is a 2010 Nuffield Scholar looking at the "Farming Ladder" and how a first generation farmer can build an agricultural business of true worth.
