I quite like January. I like the dark mornings; the excuse
for an extra half an hour in bed, and the warm cocoon feeling of the cottage as
I creep downstairs to make that first cup of tea in the morning.
The frenzy of Christmas over, the silent rooms around me, now striped of their yuletide
trimmings, the tree, the decorations, the lights, fill with a soft grey calm as
the dawn sidles in between the curtains. I let the dog out and lean against the
open back door, cup in hand and drink in the tea and the peacefulness. Reaching
out into the early morning I can grasp a little bit of time in my hand and take
a look at my life before launching into a new year. Look at where I am and
where I would like to go. There is time to make plans; the must do’s and the
would like to do’s. Time to dream a little about what I want over the next
twelve months. Sift through ideas, reshape life before reality and routine cut
in and I get back on the wheel and go spinning down a familiar path.
One thing that has become clear over this winter is that I
am here to stay. Back in August I was wondering whether to continue keeping
sheep. Wondering in fact, whether to continue with any livestock. I don’t think
I made any conscious decision about what to do; life just unfolded and, as they
say, one thing led to another.
At the beginning of November, three of my ewes took a short
trip down the road to a neighbouring farm and met up with a very nice white ram
with magnificent horns and, fingers crossed, (no scanning here, just a
surprise) there could be lambs in April. I certainly don’t have any holiday
plans for that month.
When my chickens started to go off lay as the days
shortened, I bought in four point of lay hens to keep the eggs coming in for
breakfast over the winter. Now, for the
first time, I have a beautiful Light Sussex laying me pale white eggs.
I also have a freezer full of my own pork, including
special things like salami cured with fennel seed, spicy chorizo and some
lovely hams as well as tasty joints, bacon and three types of sausage. There is
something about a plate of food which is completely home grown, as I never
cease to remind my doubting family.
Just before Christmas I took delivery of some fruit trees,
apples, pears, plum, quince, even a cherry for the birds to enjoy. They are
heeled in at the moment ready to plant out in the bottom field where the
chickens and ducks and the woodpecker range.
So, what about this year? There are some must do’s that
need to be done very soon involving money. The chickens and ducks need new
homes. Their coops are in their third year and falling apart; a fact the
resident foxes have probably already clocked and are keeping a watchful eye on.
If anyone out there knows where I can buy well made, reasonably priced chicken houses
please, please let me know.
The fruit cage needs replacing along with the rabbit
fencing around the allotment. I can do the former but the latter is going to
need serious digging. Anyone with a post driver and a mini digger that can take
out a trench to sink wire netting into.
I need to dig over the polytunnel to install the new leaky
pipe watering system I got for Christmas. Other women are delighted with
jewellery and perfume, I was thrilled with a hose pipe!
I also need to sort out buying in some more pigs to rear
and I am on the lookout for more ducks; Khaki Campbells or Welsh Harlequins for
their egg producing capabilities. I will probably buy some more point of lay
hens as the days lengthen and the weather improves. Exciting or am I just sad?
What about the would like to do’s for this year; the
dreams? I think it is time to revisit my original desire to be self-sufficient
and add a dollop of sustainability.
The self-sufficiency has slipped a little. I got caught in
our local supermarket just before Christmas buying carrots. I love carrots but
can I get them to germinate? I hid the air-miles heavy rice and pasta beneath
the milk.
I need to make better use of what I grow. What happened to
the rhubarb and ginger marmalade I have been promising to make for the last
three years, the bottles of olive oil filled with herbs, the store cupboard
bursting with lots of lovely homemade preserves. Time happened.
I also need to work on the sustainability. Solar panels to
run electric fences and the kettle and fridge in the veg shed? Making my own
potting compost? Replacing some of the nasty chemicals I use in my home and on
my body with natural products taken from the garden? No packaging, no air
miles, no pollution. And then there is the dreaded use of plastic.
Christmas reading included a book on living off wild food
so in a burst of enthusiasm I have decided to include more wild plants in my
diet. After all I have large quantities of nettles and dandelions growing
around the smallholding.
So, lots to think about.
In the meantime, there is the magic of January.
Sometimes you have to stop and look.
My diary says;
1st January Winter Heliotrope in flower in a
sheltered dell I pass walking the dog.
3rd January: 7am, just before daylight, in a
clear, cloudless sky to the south hung the waning moon with bright sharp Venus suspended
on its tail.
4th January: There is a kestrel hunting over the sheep
field. Poised for a second, motionless, hanging in the grey air and then it
drops sideways, fast, a blur above the brown withered winter grass.
Fieldfares have appeared taking the last of the windfalls I
have left on the ground for them. A Song Thrush opens the morning with its song.
5th January: Closing up the ducks and chickens
later than usual my head torch picks out two green eyes staring at me from the
bank of elder and ash that rises from their field. Neither of us move. I looked
away first. A fox waiting for me to forget to put on the electric fence?
6th January: Greater spotted woodpecker
disappearing up an ivy clad sycamore on the walk into work.
8th January: Two smart cock pheasants have taken
up residence in the garden.
13th January: Snowdrops out in the garden.
The good life.
