Last of the Summer Whine

Well it’s been a long and all together lovely summer here which I am sad to see the end of. Eventful as ever, the highlights have included the arrival of a curious but cute little bull calf named Cuthbert ( who was the size of a spaniel but with the body of an ox!), Naughty Nellie eventually succumbing to the ram, Teddy the ram lamb finding a lovely new home and a visit from Mozart the borrowed Bull.

Yes that mole hill does come up to his knees!

The weather has been great and the rain has always arrived just when I have needed it. The lambs and calves have all grown well on the grass and so I really shouldn’t complain...but of course I will.

I’m not complaining about the summer though, I’m complaining about the fact that it’s finally over. 

 

 

 

Mozart spent his bulling holiday snoozing and bellowing to have his hair brushed

 I usually look forward to the autumn, the cooler nights and misty mornings, mellow fruits, glorious sunsets and golden leaves. After the long, hot, busy  summer days I tend to enjoy the cool rains, cosy fires and the welcoming glow of lamp light in the window as I finish my chores and head indoors for an evening of reading and relaxing.



Teddy finds a new home and a flock of his own

But somehow the autumnal promise of life at a slower pace just doesn’t have the same appeal this year and I find myself lamenting the end of the summer.  I’m not sure why I’m so sad to see it go this year as along with the halcyon days it has also been a summer of red mite in one of the chicken coops, fly strike in the lambs, a mole invasion in the cow field and periods of parched grass and wilting flowers in the garden.

 

 

Perhaps my sense of not wanting to let it go arises because it’s also been a real summer to remember, a summer of firsts.  Our first cows, my first book, registering my first lambs and my first art exhibition and sale to name but a few. It’s has been tough at times too but the extremes only serve to heighten the senses and the memories seem all the more vivid because of it.  

 

But go it must as autumn advances and brings with it the opportunity to reflect and plan for the new year ahead. So I will just have to console myself with the warm crackle of the fire, the soft glow of the standard lamp and the purr of the cat on my lap as I raise a glass of the old peapod Burgundy to the summer of 2013. Cheers!