Stormy February
It’s winter at Hill Top Farm. Young blogger Jack describes a storm brewing. It’s time to batten down the hatches and prepare for disruption to the day ahead.
Calm before the storm
The weather forecast for the week didn’t look very hopeful. One of those yellow weather warnings was set to bring a lot of misery. Dad was not at all impressed that the nice lady giving the forecast was smiling as she promised ten days of wet and windy weather. Dad’s waterproofs were hanging by the Rayburn, dripping and drying out from this afternoon, making a puddle on the floor. It was pretty clear that dad was going to need his waterproofs for most of the week ahead. Dad made himself a second cup of coffee and turned off the television. Watching the forecast again wouldn’t make the sun come out.
The eye of the storm
As it happened, the weather was much worse than the forecast promised. We were glad the sheep were all in the shed – driving rain came down relentlessly and almost horizontally. The chickens have to be shut in at the moment anyway, because of avian flu, but they didn’t even try to come out of the coop into their little fenced off area. There was no chance they would feel like laying. I had to fetch Meg into the back porch. She doesn’t like it when there are gusts of wind and none of us wanted her to be unhappy, howling outside in her kennel. The electricity flickered a few times but mostly stayed on. The phone, however, went dead. That’s not unusual. Our old phone line is not the most reliable. Mum was a bit cross that she would have to spend ages in a queue waiting to speak to someone to report the fault.
Storm damage
I took Meg out for a walk the next morning and it didn’t take us long to discover that the storm had left its mark and created some extra work for dad. A tree had fallen across the lane by the cow shed. We’d have to get it moved. First of all, we fed the stock – the sheep, cows and pigs. Sal had to feed the hens today as dad needed me to help shift the wood. Dad put his chainsaw to good use and it didn’t take too long to get it all cut up and loaded onto the trailer. It’s always a bit sad to see an old tree lying on the floor, at the end of its days. I wondered how old it was. Dad thought is must have been at least a hundred years old. It was a sycamore. We have already lost trees to ash dieback disease, so it was a real shame to see another gone. Still, the new oak trees we planted down by Spring Field are coming along well. They are already taller than me.
Jack – Farmer in Training
Jack was born to farm. He just loves helping out Dad, and his trusty dog Meg is never far away. Farming is in his blood and bones. He has his own small flock of sheep, a few hens and some calves. He has great plans to expand his own enterprise (though Dad says he has to learn to walk before he can learn to run). He may be little but his ambitions are huge.
