not quite what I had in mind

Valentine's Day started with a creative flurry at Dove Farm. With it being half-term, me and the kids had got busy doing all sorts of craft-type things, including these valentine's hearts.

I think we were all mightily impressed with these little clay hearts - we poured left-over clay into a heart shaped ice-cube tray, and then went mad with candy colours, sequins, beads and glitter. Fab!

Even Joshua (middle offspring) is persuaded by his sisters, to decorate one for a particular young lady, we knew would be sending him a valentine's gift. Sure enough, her mum drove her down to the farm at 11.00 am. so she could run across the yard and push an envelope into my hand," to pass on to Josh".

If only he appreciated such lavish female attentions....aah, I feel a sense of forboding as I look ahead to the broken hearts and anguish that must surely come, as our little brood grows up to the ruthless and uncomfortably public, popularity contest, that is thinly veiled as 'Valentine's Day.'

husband Henry and I spent a pretty busy day. Henry being occupied with builders, finishing the roof on our new porch/utility room, whilst I went swimming with kids and called in on a few people, including nanna and grandad, who were also lucky enough to receive one of our hand-crafted hearts!

It was when we finally sat down to our valentine's supper, that things went a bit wrong.

One of our chickens was killed by a dog yesterday evening. (That's another story, for another blog) but anyway, I decided to take the practical self-sufficient approach - and prepared the bird for the pot within the hour, and had it in a casserole on a low heat for the rest of the evening.

This was quite a difficult undertaking for me, with it being a pet chicken and all - and also highly inconvenient on a wednesday night, with a million other things all waiting to be done.

So now, I was hoping to serve up some kind of gastronomic, hearty yet ethical delight, in true 'River cottage' style http://www.rivercottage.net/ but husband Henry, (who only eats white chicken breast at the best of times) pushes a few veg round the plate and that's it. Needless to say, I was annoyed. (please read this as under-statement in its purest form.) I leave the table and nearly leave home, and that's it really - and we would all have been emotionally better nourished if I had wasted raw chicken, instead of wasting it cooked, with the addition of many other ingredients. There has to be a moral in there somewhere. I'll try to think what it is... http://www.dovefarm.co.uk/

Things aren't always what they seem

Now, at first sight, this may be interpreted as a farmer in touch with his feminine and domestic side (not that I am linking feminine and domestic as a social statement on gender roles - it's just that a pink handbag and a hoover, happen to be in shot.)

However, do not be mislead. This is simply a case of husband Henry, grabbing a five o'clock cup of tea, after a long day, and not really caring what chaos reigns around him. I couldn't resist taking the pic.

Somewhat predictably, it's back to chickens again: (the ready-wrapped variety.)
More empty shelves at our 2 main supermarkets, where free-range, or 'freedom food' chicken should be.

This can be interpreted, of course, in a number of ways: Either there has been a sustained mad rush, and all the free-range chicken has flown off the shelves, or there is insufficient supply to meet even the tiniest increase in predicted demand, or no-one wants to buy the stuff, so none is ordered.

It's a case of 'statistics, damned statistics' and I am in no doubt that supermarkets will use poor free-range sales figures to support their status quo, on stocking, let alone promoting more ethically produced chicken, "but how can supermarkets properly assess demand, unless customers complain and ask for the products they want to buy?" I say to the woman on the customer service desk, as I fill in another of those 'we want to hear your comments' cards.
I have yet to receive any kind of response from either Tesco or Sainsbury's, despite their beguiling smallprint at the bottom of the card.

For anyone wanting an objective overview of the facts covering economic and ethical considerations, you could do worse than take a look at how the soil association has presented the case: http://www.soilassociation.org/.

If you find that you feel strongly, then I would urge you to lend your support to the 'chicken out' campaign. Register your interest on http://www.chickenout.tv/

In the meantime, my offspring are proudly horrified at what their mother will do as part of a family shopping trip. (where each of them places me on the 'horror - pride' scale is directly attributable to the age of each child) Guess where my 'pre-teen' puts me on this scale....

http://www.dovefarm.co.uk/

chicken out!

Thought I'd better get blogging again - people have been asking me "what's happening?" But what to write for the first entry of the year? - a significant start, without cliche, or subliminal messages about New year resolutions or personal goal setting.

Perhaps I needed to get angry about something, and today's the day. On the surface of it, a trivial thing: popped into Sainsbury's, to buy something to cook for tea... thinking roast chicken-

(this is the drawback of husband Henry doing the 'family shop' at Tesco - I know I'm on dangerous ground here, but at the risk of sounding ungrateful, I was struggling by this afternoon to find items that could be combined to cook a meal. Henry went shopping last night. We do however, seem to have plentiful supplies of DVDs, bakery products and branflakes.)

- only to find there are no free range chickens, or chicken pieces on the shelves. Nothing but those pinkish factory chickens in the meat section, and not only that - a prominent, end of aisle display of intensively produced, special offer packs of chicken breast.

Following the campaigning during this month from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and Jamie Oliver, about the less than acceptable methods of chicken production and our consumer buying behaviour - how can the supermarkets then say that customers don't want free range or freedom food options, when they are not on the shelves to buy? If these packs were displayed alongside the standard chicken, rather than segmented as a prestige branded product - with clear information about the welfare benefits, then surely more people would opt in to free range or high welfare chicken, in the same way that consumers are making choices about eggs.

Ordinarily, I would have been in a hurry, and simply put something else in the trolley - but today, I thought I would lodge my complaint and make my point in the name of consumer choice. A bit of a procedure followed at the check-out, involving calling over a supervisor and filling in a form, (with lots of people looking on, to my children's discomfort.)

I will report back on any feedback I am lucky enough to receive.

For those blog readers who have not followed the chicken out! campaign, or watched the recent TV programmes, I am not going to re-tell the story here, but I do make an impassioned plea, to take a look at the campaign website http://www.chickenout.tv/ This isn't about posh celebrities, or whether we like their TV shows or not - it's about us and how we regard the animals that are our food. http://www.dovefarm.co.uk/

Christmas Day hide-away

So that's another Christmas safely negotiated. As well as being a fun, happy time, it can be a difficult time of year, every year, for all sorts of people, for all sorts of reasons. We should spare a thought for them, and maybe actually do something to help, between now and next year?

Meanwhile, at the more trivial end of difficult, some of us will be racking our brains for gifts we will give to people, who neither need them or want what is given; some of us will spend money like crazy, and regret it for the next four credit card payments - while others of us will walk that familiar tightrope, of turkey, tinsel and family politics, in the knowledge that whatever we do, it will not be right.

Christmas Day for us, did not start off at all how I was hoping. Our son Joshua started proceedings at 5.15 am, by wishing us 'merry Christmas' in all its variants through his new 'voice changer' - which is, to all intents and purposes, a loud hailer. He then informed us, in a mutant kind of voice (still very loud), that he and his sisters were already more than halfway through present opening, and Natalie was asking 'should she put her party dress on now?'

For me, at least, it's hard to be enthusiastic about anything at that time in the morning, but it is Christmas,I say to myself, and I do my best. husband Henry manages to ignore both Christmas and loud hailer, and sleeps for an unfair amount of time longer.

So farm jobs and 'feeding round' happened earlier, than any other day so far this year. The animals must have thought it was Christmas or something. A farming friend always says how she enjoys the Christmas morning feed round, and I have to agree with her - probably sentimental, but I do tend to give everyone an extra helping, and sing a few Christmas carols to myself as I'm going along...

By mid afternoon, it became apparent that youngest daughter had not received a good number of presents that she should have. It would appear that 'mummy' had hidden a bag of presents so well, that it did not get sent to Santa when it should have done - and so Santa couldn't deliver the presents back to her.

This is not an unusual thing for me to do, having put many precious things 'in a safe place' never to be found again - and it took me until evening to locate the missing bag of presents. The ironic thing is that Natalie didn't mind at all. She was happy with what she'd got, even though this was significantly less than what her brother and sister had.

Ok, so Natalie is not all "I want, I want" in the way that some children are - but It was still a sharp reminder, that in our modern western society, too many of us really do live in a world of excess, and could manage quite happily with only half of what we've got. I vow to take this thought forward with me into the New Year: I just need to top up my wine glass and have another chocolate first...

http://www.dovefarm.co.uk/

on the first day of Christmas...

....the factory gave to me, a little chicken refugee.

On my way back from walking with Celine, our eldest, to catch the morning school bus, I was called over by one of the workmen from the foundry, which is just over the bridge from the farm.

I was duly presented with a small speckled hen, who had been discovered, crouching amongst the gas bottles in their yard, and had frightened one of their workers, half to death, that morning when she had squawked her way back into the world.

This little hen, (purchased from Leek market earlier this year, as a broody with chicks ) had been chased away from the farm, by a dog, more than two weeks ago. In fact I did not even know it was this hen - we just saw a chicken make its escape under one of the foundry buildings. We assumed it had made its own way back. Heaven only knows how this small bird had managed to survive for all this time.

The dog episode is a whole story in itself: Henry and I saw the alpacas racing around their field one morning, getting quite distressed, with a dog in eager pursuit. I recognised the dog, and knew it to be a friendly youngster, but in true adolescent fashion, it was determined to have its own way, and would not respond to any kind of human attempt to get it back under control.

Fortunately for the alpacas (though not for the hen) the dog was distracted by a bunch of chickens, and chased this one little hen as described above. After much patience and biscuit bribery from at least seven people, the dog was finally brought to a halt.

Even though these frolics were 'puppy-some' and without malice, the harm caused to livestock is serious and significant. Alpacas, like sheep can so easily abort from the kind of stress caused by a dog chasing about. I did ask the owner to imagine the financial cost of his dog's actions, if they were repeated in a field of pregnant alpacas or sheep. I hope he will keep his dog on a lead, the next time they are walking past our fields.

As for Little Miss Speckle? - she's relieved to be back with the rest of the girls, laying nicely. thank you.

www.dovefarm.co.uk

a little wet under foot

The weather just recently has been wet, wet, wet.

This means that the river Dove floods, and our riverside fields disappear from view. The track leading down to the fields also disappears for a day or two, when flooding is really bad.

I remember a few years ago, when the cows were completely stranded, because the stream at the bottom of the cattle drive had become a knee deep, impassable torrent. During these particular floods, we even lost our bull, who got washed away by the river, assumed dead.

Several weeks later came some astounding news via the cattlemarket grapevine: At the time of the floods, a bull had been washed up on the shores of a farm about four miles and two bridges downstream - battered and shaken... but alive. It was a mystery to all concerned as to where he had come from. This was how Henry got to hear about the hapless beast, so went to identify him and fetch him home.

We re-christened our unassuming hero, Robinson bull - who went on to stay with us for another good year or so, fathering many fine calves before gently moving on to a new home.

This time things have not been so drastic, but daily life around the farm is miserable, with wet and smelly coats, gloves, boots and overalls - all draped over kitchen chairs and fighting for best position in front of the aga - main opponents, being dog, cats and me! Priority given to the person who has to go out first, to brave the elements again.

As you might imagine, the cats NEVER want to go back out to brave the elements, but they get kicked out all the same, when we think they can cross their legs no longer!

www.dovefarm.co.uk

food with a face...and a name

'Food with a face' is what many vegetarians seek to avoid, if their choice to not eat meat is ethical, rather than dietary.

But what if the food has a face and a name? - this presents difficulties to even the most enthusiastic meat eaters. Pictured above is JoJo - one of this year's ram lambs and not yet fattened - this one will never be much good for anything, too small and weedy, but he does have a name, so how can we eat him? How could anyone eat him?

Our six ram lambs of this year, were named by the children - big mistake - practically as soon as each lamb was born - all beginning with the letter 'J' which is the registration letter for pedigree Ryeland sheep born in 2007. I thought the novelty would wear off and they would forget who's who, when it came to sorting and sending the 'fat lambs' away to be killed. hmmm....

...and at lambing time, I didn't think about the guilt I would feel later, in selecting by name, who lives and who dies.

It all sounds very melodramatic, but when you keep sheep on a small scale, you get to know them and they get to know you. The answer has to be a bigger flock!

I have agreed to hold on to 'Joshua' our first born ram at Dove Farm, (named ceremoniously after our son.) The girls thought this particular lamb was cuddly, friendly and very fond of his food, and immediately hit upon their brother's name. To keep this animal is pure sentiment on my part, because he's not the best of the bunch, but I absolutely cannot see Joshua cut up into lamb chops.

The 'real farmers' out there will despair I know, but there it is.

I'm the same with farmers markets and similar outlets - I'm all for provenance and traceability of livestock, but I really would not want to buy from someone who was proudly selling body parts of 'Daisy' the cow, neatly segmented and vacuum-packed, ready for the freezer. A name somehow conveys a connection between the person and the animal - and to brandish it about as a selling point for a cut of meat, is just too hideous. For me, it crosses an uncomfortable line, where an eartag number and a place of origin would suffice.

Next spring, we are on track for around 25 lambs at Dove Farm, and I am not making the same mistake again. Registration letter 'K' will certainly help in curbing any prolific naming tendencies. www.dovefarm.co.uk