Wearing it Well

Things you should know:

1. I've never been fashionable (although you've probably guessed that by now). 
2. That's ok. 

I think it was inevitable that I ended up living with a farmer on a farm. The uniform is great and suits me down to the (muddy) ground.

It won't surprise you to know that I've never been a dedicated follower of fashion. Being born in the 70s and having two older brothers means the hand-me-downs were more tomboy than Tammy Girl and that's been pretty much my 'style' (if you can call it that) since then. There was that time circa 1982 that my mum wouldn't let me get a rara skirt but, on reflection, that's maybe no bad thing. 

These days, I'm happiest in jeans and wellies or head-to-toe waterproofs for walkies in the rain. There haven't exactly been many opportunities for getting dressed up this year anyway and that actually suits me fine. Given the choice, it's comfort over style every time, although I haven't quite resorted to working from home in my jammies. 

There has been lots of chat recently about 80s style making a comeback, what with Diana and The Crown and the Quality Street dresses on Strictly. I'm slightly horrified but then I remember that it's unlikely that boiler suits will suddenly have ruffled collars or waterproof leggings will become pleated and high waisted. 

My last blog was all about the uncertainties in farming but I'm reassured by the constancy of some things. 

• There will always be two pairs of muddy wellies and leggings at the door.
• I'll know it's below freezing when Ivie finally gets the thermals out the back of the wardrobe. 
• There will never be a shoulder pad in sight. 

Eat, Sleep, Repeat

What I've been thinking about:

1. It's all about routines. 
2. Except when it isn't. 

It turns out that puppies are hard work. In the run-up to getting ours, wise people nodded sagely and said, "puppies are hard work." It went in one ear and out the other as my toddler brain screamed, "puppy, puppy, puppy!" 

It's now six weeks since we picked up the trembling bundle and brought her home and we're getting into our groove. Or so we like to think. What's actually happening is that we are fitting around the routine that the puppy has set for herself while fooling ourselves that we're the ones in charge. 

Hard at work

Having her has made me notice other people's routines around me. When I take her for her morning walk, I see the same farmer on a quad off to feed cows at the next farm and the same lorries on the way to the ferry. 

There's something quite soothing about routines, especially when the outside world seems a bit out of control. We set our alarm for the time the puppy wants to get up, we make her breakfast while trying to stop her eating our socks and we take her out for a pee as soon as we've sat down for a cuppa. 

 

The point at which the puppy always needs out

Apart from life with a 14 week old puppy, living on a farm is all about different routines, depending on the season. Except when things don't go to plan. Which is every day. 

Today, for example, there is a blocked culvert. This means that Ivie was an hour late coming in for breakfast, we've only seen each other for ten minutes all morning and he's behind on feeding the cows.

Farming is such a strange mix of fixed tasks done at a certain time and the biggest spanners chucked into the works every single day. Farmers seem to need a strong core of dogged determination combined with a heavy dose of flexibility to deal with the demands of the day. 

In my job, if something unexpected happens, I know I can catch up tomorrow but it's not quite the same on the farm. I can't quite imagine Ivie coming in for tea saying, "the digger needed a new part so I didn't get round to feeding the calves today" or us getting to February with no ewes in lamb because a tree needed cleared from the cycle track back in the autumn.  

At least some things are certain - death, taxes and the puppy being just cute enough to avoid eviction. 

Love Local

What I've been thinking about this week: 

• Small businesses and how they make the world go round. 

It all started when I was sitting at my desk looking out the window at the man in a tractor cutting the hedges at the Spittal. I'm getting to know my tractors so I realised straight away it wasn't a Fisher man in a blue tractor; it was a different man in a red tractor. 

Blue Tractor
(New Holland just to prove I know 😉)

It got me thinking about all the businesses that are involved in life on the farm. There are the obvious ones like the farm itself; the contracting business; and the holiday cottages. 

But then there are all the others - the aforementioned hedge cutter; the Hoof GP; the vet practice; Fallenstock (which doesn't deal in surplus stock); the lorry driver that takes animals to or from market; the agronomist (I get extra points for remembering that one); the farm supplies shop (that kept us stocked in flour and sugar when everywhere else had run out); and so on. It doesn't take much to see how important these small businesses are to each other. 

On the other side of the coin, there are the other farms that employ I&A Fisher (mainly to do things that mean I make Ivie take off his boiler suit before coming anywhere near me). 

Clean boiler suits

And it all makes our part of the world go round so that we can spend our money locally, too. You don't need me to tell you about the better service you get by spending your money with the small businesses that actually pay their taxes instead of with the huge corporations that offer bigger, cheaper, faster. 

• When we buy plants at Galloway Heathers, Marcus and Iona know where our garden is so can advise what will fare best. 
• When we buy fish from Ferry Fish, it comes straight to our door only a few hours after being bought at the market. 
• When I buy moisturiser at Imagination, I know that Una will help me choose what's right for my skin.  

The list goes on and you'll have your favourites, too. 

So, this is a shout out to all the small businesses that have supported us during lockdown and need us to keep supporting them as we approach the dreaded C-Word. Our corner of the world is a far richer place for having unique high streets. Let's keep them that way.