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I was chatting to my daughter, Julie, last Sunday morning and we both agreed that this lockdown is proving far more difficult than the last one. It is inching along and wearing us down. The first time around, we were fearful and stayed at home with enthusiasm. We found plenty of things to do and the weather was beautiful. I made a lockdown list and I went at it with gusto; enlisting the assistance of various family members. I have no list this time and that is probably a mistake. Our husbands, Tim and David, heard our conversation and readily agreed that they, too, were finding this lockdown tougher. Still, we must continue to save lives. There is no other option without the availability of a vaccine. Until then, we try to stay on track emotionally and physically.
The second-last grass walk
My sons Philip and Colm and their partners, Aileen and Elaine, have taken to walking the farm with their dogs on a Sunday morning. It is a chance for us to meet for a chat in the great outdoors. As I left, Tim suggested that we do a grass walk. The two couples arrived with coffee for the walkers and mischievous dogs.
We started our tour in the ‘Big Field’ by the house. The dogs ran and ran, enjoying the freedom and the wind through their coats. Grass cover was judged to be 650kg of dry matter per hectare. Colm, Philip and Tim said they’d do the grass appraisal in the paddocks across the hill, leaving Elaine, Aileen and I heading to the lowest part of the farm, by the river.
The ‘Inch Field’ is a narrow field running along the river, in excess of a kilometre. Last week, the green grass against the tree-lined river on one side and the autumn, multi-coloured woodland on the other was quite spectacular. The trees are almost bare; yet enough crinkled leaf remained to display rusty browns, golden yellows and vibrant orange leaves. There were even hints of burgundy. Red berries on spindle wood glistened against lime green leaves under the watery sun.
This week, the green grass was a duller backdrop. The incessant rain of 40ml on Wednesday had caused the river to overflow its banks, leaving no definition between field and river. At least the field had been grazed. We opted to walk in the wood above as the field was still waterlogged.
Their relationship has always been one of deep trust and concern for each other
Conditions on a farm can change in a matter of days.
The men rejoined us. The brothers were in deep conversation. Their relationship has always been one of deep trust and concern for each other, since they were little boys. It does my heart good. The figures would be inputted to the computer by Colm, later on, but he was pretty certain that we had reached the end of grazing 2020 in Woodside.
We stop grazing when grass cover is predicted to be 700kg on 1 December. This decision is critical, so as to have enough grass for the cows to go out from the 1 February, as they calve.
Baby trees
As we walked along the woodland path, there was a carpet of large, graceful feathery bottle green ferns above us. I spotted some beech tree seedlings. I gently eased one from the woodland floor, aided by the recent wet weather softening the ground.
I passed one to Elaine. She joked that it might provide her with a shelter belt between her future house on the farm and mine.
Each girl has a new project to grow on their trees
We gathered a few more for each of my sons’ fiancées. Then we found a baby oak for one girl. We needed to find one for the other, and we did. The last gem was a lime tree for Elaine. A bit of honeysuckle and a baby fern were quickly found to balance the collections. Each girl has a new project to grow on their trees. The battle of the trees has begun. We joked about how they might remember the day that Granny gave them the trees. I felt a pang of regret that one day I will only be a memory. We returned to the house. Ricky looked longingly out through the glass, wondering why Philip, Aileen, Colm and Elaine wouldn’t come in to play. Lockdown is not good for us.
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