As I write this on Monday morning, I was hoping to be able to tell you that I spent the weekend combining super crops of winter barley, in blistering sunshine. But it’s not fully ripe and even if it was, over 35mm of lodging rain since last Friday, 19 July, put paid to that plan.

However, it suited me not to be working.

My second daughter (the sporty one, who certainly doesn’t get it from me) is cycling from Malin Head to Mizen Head, so I was able to be a wonderful caring parent for a few hours and offer support with a rendezvous in the northwest.

The day and age of a person standing at the rear end of a cow will shortly be like the curlew – if not extinct, then very rare

Mrs P was keen to tie this in with a visit to her family in Strabane with the lure that I could see her brother’s new Lely robotic milkers.

The day and age of a person standing at the rear end of a cow will shortly be like the curlew – if not extinct, then very rare.

Robots will be everywhere in a few years because they are the future, certainly for small- to medium-sized herds.

And, boy, was I impressed. Robotic milkers are so much more than a very pleasant way of extracting money from cows.

They are a complete management system which transforms a manual working fellow to a white-collared management guru who can view the health of his herd at the click of a mouse. The farmer has to be up for this role change.

But my son Max is a tillage man and has no interest in cows. Nor does the sporty physiotherapist daughter or the other two who are seemingly unaware that they were brought up on a farm

Of course, all this technology appeals to the tillage farmer in me but unlike tillage farming, robots are making you money while you sleep and on wet days as well.

Right now, that sounds increasingly attractive. But my son Max is a tillage man and has no interest in

Nor does the sporty physiotherapist daughter or the other two who are seemingly unaware that they were brought up on a farm.

However, I think young Billy Potterton will be a farmer or at least I hope so.

Replacing Holly

You see, it’s taking two Jack Russells to replace Holly who died heroically in the cause of duty last January.

I haven’t been able to find a Jack Russell with all of Holly’s manifold qualities in the one dog.

She wouldn’t even bark at a burglar, let alone bite him

We got the first pup replacement at the end of March, a wee northern bitch we called Pippa, a lovely sweet-natured family pet but useless at security duties.

She wouldn’t even bark at a burglar, let alone bite him. Her vermin control capabilities are as yet unproven but I’d say she’s too nice to kill a rat. She may even be vegan, with no apparent interest in farming in general and spraying, in particular. She won’t even snap at the bullock’s noses when they sniff her rear end.

Most Jack Russells love travelling in the cab but we got the one that doesn’t

I brought her out to see Holly’s beloved Bateman but she dismissed it without so much as a sniff of the wheels and scooted back to the garden to play with Alison.

Most Jack Russells love travelling in the cab but we got the one that doesn’t. She actually gets sick in the Land Rover. As for the combine – I won’t even go there. Combining is stressful enough without a dog puking up all over you.

There was nothing for it but look for another pup. I always fancied having a pair anyway.

We found Billy in Kinvara while on holidays and I’m very hopeful. Billy’s a bit of a hard chaw, a street-fighter and I think we’ll get on well.

I don’t think he’ll be combining this harvest though but the signs are good.

I didn’t bring him while spraying off the oilseed rape as he’d escape and I’d never find him – it was hard enough to find the tramlines.

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