29/03/2026
Lambing for this last batch kicked off last week and, I’ll be honest, it didn’t get off to the best start. That’s farming for you. Thankfully things have picked up, and now when you walk into the polytunnel you’re greeted by a full choir of hungry voices. The lambs give you their high‑pitched bleets, the ewes 🐑answer with their deeper “maaaas”, and everyone demands food like they haven’t eaten in weeks. The silence afterwards is absolute bliss.
Mostly twins so far, and then one of the Cheviots decided to show off and produced triplets — and big ones at that. Been a bit hectic the last few days with lambs coming thick and fast, and the shepherd is certainly feeling it. Sleep 😴has been more of a rumour than a reality — they always seem to prefer making their entrance in the small hours — and the nights have started to blur into one long round of checks, feeds, and straw‑topping. But when dawn breaks and you’re looking at a row of healthy lambs tucked in beside their mums, it somehow feels worth every bleary‑eyed hour. There is a picture of where some of the lambs now prefer to sleep with Mum watching over.
I also wanted to share a little moment with Miss Muscovy. She was born here on the farm — her mum was Mrs Muscovy and her dad was Elvis — and she’s the last Muscovy we have. She’s always been fiercely independent, flying in and out of the pen whenever it suited her, but always home for bedtime. Then one day the hens attacked her very badly around the eye (hens can be terrible bullies when they’re sorting out their “pecking order”), and suddenly she decided humans weren’t so bad after all and let me take care of her. Now she’ll even eat out of my hand… but only when she feels like it. I keep telling her to stand up for herself, but she just waddles away like a little old lady who’s had enough of everyone’s nonsense.
And here’s your fun fact of the day: Muscovy ducks don’t quack. The males make a low hissing sound, and the females do a soft little trill. When they’re happy or excited, they wag their tails just like dogs. And, surprisingly, they’re actually more closely related to geese than to the mallard‑type ducks most people know.
Life on the farm — never dull, always noisy, and full of characters.