So it's been a bit of a bad 10 days and I decided not to blog. The sheep went to the slaughterhouse on Tuesday, and I was quite emotional about it. Unsurprisingly. I know people say you get used to it but I can't say I ever will. I wasn't a proper snotty wreck at the abattoir like I was with the pigs - I held it together until i got back in the van and then sniveled all the way home. 

I didn't bond as much with the sheep as I did with the pigs though. I kept getting hurt by their horns or headbutted which, when combined with the fact they broke Georgie's leg and were responsible for the deaths of the chickens, helped me retain some semblance of emotional detachment. Not completely though. The smallholding has no animals apart from the cats and it is very quiet and a little bit sad.

Anyway, the sheep will be returned from the slaughterhouse next week so I have to have a mega rearrange of the freezers to make space. Leading on from that job is rendering down the surplus pig fat into lard for soapmaking, which has been frozen down until I was ready for it. The amount in the picture is about a quarter of what is frozen.



This is a particularly stinky job and I have refrained from doing it during the last few months out of respect for my mother-in-law. However, I waved her and Martin off for a short break staying with my brother-in-law this morning so game on! 

It's Le Mans weekend you see, a 24hr endurance race in France that Martin and his brother get together every year to watch on TV. I don't think they have missed a year so far. Not my idea of fun - 24hrs of crisp eating and watching cars go round and round a track. Nope, I usually stay with the cats and enjoy the quiet time, putter, watch box sets, cross a few jobs off the list, etc. 

This year, in no particular order, the list of jobs to be crossed off include:

  • Render and clean all the pig fat into lard using the slow cookers
  • Wash the sheep fleeces in the bath and dry in the sun ready for carding
  • Mow the paddock
  • Spring clean the lobby and paint the skirting and wall around the front door.

Yes, I haven't stopped spring cleaning, which has now gone on so long it has become summer cleaning! We had someone to stay for a few days recently so the living room, landing and stairs were thoroughly deep cleaned as part of the preparations - apologies, I had no time to blog about that I just had to get on and get cleaning as their arrival was unexpected and imminent. Mostly a lot of dust and cobwebs with a bit of suite spot cleaning, curtain hoovering, carpet freshening and relocating objects back to their proper homes. Wasn't too bad and didn't take too long.

So, once the lobby is finished this weekend, all that will be left is the en-suite in our bedroom and I will have completed the spring clean of the whole house. Finally!


Disaster struck yesterday.

I moved the chickens from their main pen into their little day pen in the paddock so they could have a scratch around. Some time in the three hours after that, one of the sheep went nuts and hurt them.

From the state of the bars, it looks like one of the sheep got a horn stuck between the bars of the small pen and dragged it round as it struggled to free itself. The welds are broken and the bars bent. Ginger was killed, broken neck I think, and Nerys injured. I found her huddled up to Ginger's body, in shock with her entire head comb missing down to her scalp. 

I got her in the house, tucked her up in box  and syringed some painkiller and electrolytes into her. Later in the evening, she ate some food and went to sleep but this morning things had taken a turn for the worse. She couldn't stand and had fluid building up in her lungs. Despite being hungry and keen to eat and drink, she steadily got worse until it was clear she was suffering terribly, heaving for every rattly breath. I can only think she had a punctured lung or heart failure, both of which would cause a rapid fluid build up.

We had no choice but to put her down quickly and stop her suffering. 

Nerys and Ginger were the best chickens we've ever had; so friendly, industrious, and productive. 

Worringly, while I was in the paddock retrieving Ginger's body to bury, one of the sheep stormed past me and I realised too late he was charging up to Fleagle, who I hadn't seen had followed me in. It was only because she puffed up and screamed that it pulled up short in surprise,and I had enough time to chase her out, otherwise she would have been trampled like Georgie was. 

Enough is enough. 
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