They're all going on a summer holiday

Things I've learned

1. Farmers are adept at diversification. 
2. I like salted caramel ice cream. I was pretty sure of that already but it's always good to check these things. 

I've been thinking a lot about holidays this week. It's partly the weather - which has been scorchio - and partly the increase in traffic on the roads. 

Dumfries and Galloway is a region that relies heavily on tourism. According to Visit Scotland, British travellers alone made over 750,000 overnight trips to the region in 2018, spending 2.5 million nights and £141 million. 

Of course, this is a mixed blessing. It means that when we have visitors ourselves, there are plenty of places and events to take them to. But we've also all come across drivers either braking for every bend (or puddle, which was my particular favourite) or going far too fast on single track roads and overtaking on blind corners on the A75. 

It's not quite the onslaught that Edinburgh usually has every year. When I lived there, I really enjoyed the fact that I passed Edinburgh Castle on my morning bus route and that I could walk to some of the best art galleries in the world but it made going about my day to day life in August absolute hell. It's certainly experiencing a quieter summer this year due to covid cancellations and, although that has a massive impact on businesses that rely on festival audiences, I'm sure there are many that are breathing a sigh of relief and enjoying the quieter streets. 

Gallery of Modern Art, Edinburgh

Which brings me back to D&G and the farm. Before I lived here, the tourism sector was something I only really thought about in a work setting. Having worked for Spring Fling and the Wigtown Book Festival in the past, I've been involved in a lot of audience surveys, reports to funders and the like but it all felt a bit more abstract. 

Spittal Sunset
Photo by Ivie

Now the view from my bedroom window includes the two holiday cottages on the farm and if I'm sitting outside I can hear people on the cycle path and the gates opening and closing. 

I really like it. I love living somewhere that other people want to come and visit and it stops me taking these glorious views for granted. A friend of mine came to visit last week from Wiltshire and stayed in a nearby AirBnB (Spittal Cottages were both booked!). Her and her children arrived one drizzly, overcast afternoon and woke up the next day surrounded by the Galloway Hills and Galloway Forest Park. They were all captivated by the views, the wildlife and the peace and quiet. It was great to see the place through their eyes and it made me fall in love with D&G a little bit more, if that's possible. 

Photo by Julia

While they were here, we went to Cream o' Galloway on a sunny Saturday. It was my first major trip into the outside world since mid-March so it was all slightly strange. But as numbers were limited to enable social distancing it meant that it was quiet, we barely had to queue for ice cream (salted caramel since you ask) and the kids could explore the adventure playground and go karts till their heart's content. 

It reminded us of a previous visit around six years ago when they'd come to Auchencairn to stay with me. As we waited for the tractor ride (little did I know I'd be able to do that every day if I wanted in a few year's time), the chap said, "now remember that we'll be driving through a working farm. There will be machinery and equipment lying around." We thought he meant from a health and safety point of view and keeping the children safe. "We've had complaints from visitors that the place looks untidy." I'm not often speechless...

Living with an Extrovert

 Things you should know:

1. I am an introvert.
2. Ivie is not.
3. There's more than one sweeping generalisation coming up.

There are lots of definitions of introverts and extroverts out there. Without getting too detailed, one of the main differences is how they recharge their batteries: introverts get their energy back from being on their own; extroverts by being surrounded by people. 

It's one of the reasons that I enjoyed the time that I lived on my own so much and thought I'd never want to live with anyone Ever Again. 

In some ways, being an introvert farmer's WAG is the perfect set-up, though. I have the house to myself for hours at a time and am (just about) ready for company when Ivie gets home. This is what usually happens:

In Ivie's case, it involves putting on the radio, wandering to his desk, scrolling through Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat and WhatsApp on his phone while watching tractor porn on the computer all at the same time. I whimper quietly while switching off the radio, shutting the kitchen door and just about coping with the noise of the kettle. 

One of the ways this difference shows up between us is when we're socialising. Those of you that know Ivie will know that he's usually the last to leave any party. You know when they 'subtly' turn on the lights and wash the floor? Ivie will still be chatting away to someone he's known for 30 years or 30 minutes and having the time of his life. I'll have peaked early and retreated hours ago and will also be having a grand old time. And a cuppa. 

Rock n roll introvert style

It doesn't mean I didn't enjoy myself or that I didn't like the people I met, it's just that I ran out of steam before he did. And Ivie gets it. He doesn't try to change me or make me feel guilty for always being pretty much the first to leave. 

Anyway, Ivie's best mate had a big birthday this week (yes, Marcus turned 21). For various reasons, I managed to miss both of his celebrations but it meant that Ivie could see everyone he'd missed during lockdown all in one go - extroverts are very efficient in this way. 

While lockdown and shielding wasn't too bad for me because of my introvert tendencies, it does mean that getting out into the outside world is taking me a bit longer. It's a noisy, overwhelming place for someone who only saw people with the surname Fisher for four-and-a-half months. Great as they are, I'm looking forward to broadening my socialising horizons over the coming weeks and months. See you there.

PS thanks to the people I haven't met yet who are regular readers 😊

Everybody was Multi-tasking

What I've learned:

1. Everyone around here has more than one skill
2. Farmers' skills involve hitting things with a hammer

We've been having our bathroom refitted this week. It's been a long time coming. We started talking about it before Christmas then finally got round to ordering everything in March. Then lockdown happened. And shielding was extended. So, we've now got a beautiful, almost finished bathroom. 

Work in progress

We've been really lucky with the guy that's doing it for us. Technically, he's a joiner but he's done the plumbing, plastering, as well as the joinery work and fitting the new window. I know everyone knows everyone around here but it makes things so much easier because you're not just opening the Yellow Pages (yes, I'm showing my age) and choosing someone random that a) might turn up when they say they're going to and b) might do a good job. 

You're allowed to be excited about new windows when you're over 40

Along the way, I've learned that farmers are also mult-talented. I've mentioned before that I didn't really know what Ivie did all day. Aside from complicated mental arithmetic, Ivie spends his day problem-solving and fixing things. His days rarely finish up as planned due to any number of unforeseen circumstances involving the weather, temperamental machinery, animals escaping, animals dying, animals giving birth, or any combination thereof. In a lot of cases - animals notwithstanding - these circumstances are 'moulded' with the aid of a heavy object and a lot of force. 

Talking of multi-tasking, something I noticed when I first moved to Dumfries and Galloway is that a lot of people have more than one job. Their week might be made up of two or three part-time jobs or they might make money from their arts and crafts skills over and above the 9-5. In some circles, it would be called a 'portfolio career' but for normal people, it's just life. Before I lived here, I'd always worked full-time without questioning it and it was the norm amongst my friends. In fact, the people I knew who didn't work full-time outside the home generally had small children. 

As I've got older, I've really appreciated time over almost everything else and, aside from a six-month blip in a job that wasn't right for me, I've worked part-time since December 2013, often made up of two or more contracts. It was a great way to get to know more people, too. My first part-time contracts were with Spring Fling and Wigtown Book Festival, two of my favourite D&G cultural icons. I got to know a lot of people who are now close friends and I might have bumped into someone special at the 2017 book festival opening party...

Going back to the bathroom, I did get slightly confused by the multi-talented joiner earlier in the week. He mentioned that he would only be there the next morning as he had a funeral in the afternoon. I made my, "oh I'm sorry" face but didn't have time to say anything else as he had already moved on to telling me what else he still had to do. Later, as I watched the van leave down the farm road, I saw the tell-tale words on the back doors, "Ian Broll. Joiners and Funeral Directors". 

Flitting and Stripping

What you should know:

• if you keep reading you'll see a photo of Ivie stripping

Ivie has had two addresses in his life; I'd had two by the time I was 8 months old. I've moved house twice in the last year come to think of it (it made sense at the time, honest). 

I've been thinking about moving house this week - not that I'm planning on doing it again anytime soon. But we're getting ready for a new bathroom so have been taking down shelves and stripping wallpaper and there's now that strange echo that you get when you start to pack boxes prior to a move. 

Move 1, July 2019

Move 2, Dec 2019

Housing on farms is something that seems quite complicated if you haven't grown up in that environment. For example, Ivie's two addresses have been the farmhouse (where he grew up) and the farm cottage (where we live now). It takes less than a minute to walk between the two so he's never had to bother setting up mail redirection. 

When Ivie's brother and sister-in-law got married they moved into the cottage. So far, so straightforward. When their third child was on the way, they moved into the farmhouse. That's when Ivie moved into the cottage. The end. 

Except it's not the end. If one of Ivie's nieces or his nephew decide to make their life on the farm, they'll probably move into the cottage so we'll move out. And if later they have a growing family, they'll probably move into the farmhouse, meaning Ivie's brother and sister-in-law will move out. And so the merry-go-round continues. 

It sounds harsh from the outside looking in but it's practical and follows the circle of life, a bit like farming itself. 

I used to think that would make me feel quite insecure and transient about where I lived but the old adage about home being where the heart is, is absolutely true. We're middle-aged so we're looking forward to choosing paint colours and flooring and have been saying things like, "it'll be so much easier to keep clean". 

Decorating doesn't feel like a waste of time because this is the home we're building together today. I could repeat all sorts of cliches about living in the here and now but it's something that kind of happens on the farm anyway. Every day is a new day and, although what happens today has an impact on the future, none of it is set in stone. 

For instance, Ivie is supposed to be at silage on another farm today but it started tipping down as soon as he got there so he'll head back and find another job that needs doing. Like stripping wallpaper. 

Two Baths Fisher 

Dear everyone

This morning I spent a very jolly hour chatting to Matt Kitson of Driftwood Cinema. For a couple of hours a week he takes over Wigtown Community Radio with Desert Island Flicks. Each guest picks their top ten films and he has a chat to them about them and their life. This week he asked me to take part*. 

Matt had done a good job of cyberstalking researching things about me so, of course, my blog came up. When he asked about it I said, "it's really a love letter. It's a love letter to Ivie, to his family and to his friends. They've all embraced me and included me and only occasionally laugh at me when I've asked a really stupid question" (like the one that prompted the name of the blog).

So I wanted to let you all know how much I enjoy being part of the gang.

Ivie's big 5-0

Before I moved to D&G, one of my friends laughed and said, "you'll probably end up living with a farmer." I thought she was wrong for so many reasons:

• I figured farmers ate meat and two veg for every meal and I quite like noodles.
• I assumed they all wanted to get hitched and I've been there, done that with no desire to do it again.
• I thought that farmers preferred their partners to know stuff about cows and sheep and crop rotation (I didn't know about spread rates then but if I had I'd have added that to the list).

Luckily I was wrong for so many reasons. 

• Ivie is a lot more adventurous in his tastes, some that even require chopsticks. 
• He has absolutely no plans to make an honest woman of me. 
• He couldn't care less that I barely know the difference between the NFU and the NFL.

Chopstick Training

I love the small part I play in Ivie's farming life but what I love most is the big part the farming world now plays in mine. ♡♡♡

*My films in case you're wondering:

1. The Blues Brothers
2. Lost in Translation
3. Whisky Galore
4. The Wickerman
5. Trainspotting
6. Made of Honour
7. Gregory's Girl
8. Moulin Rouge
9. The Shining
10. To Kill a Mockingbird

Talking the Talk

What I've learned
You have to choose your moment

One of the things about going out with a farmer is that you often don't have a lot of time together all in one go. Depending on the time of year, sometimes it's just a quick catch up over lunch at midday and that's it until lunch the next day.

That's fine when all we have to catch up on is whether we're running out of milk, what we might fancy for tea or jokes about Iceland (the supermarket, not the country). But when there are bigger things to discuss, it can be hard to find the right time.

For example, back when we'd been seeing each other for about six months, I wanted to talk to Ivie about feelings and stuff. It was the longest relationship I'd been in for 20 years and it felt like things were getting a bit more serious. Ivie had had a terrifying accident in his tractor a few weeks previously and it had made me realise (a) how dangerous his industry is (b) how I felt about him and (c) that I should probably tell him.

But it was May. So we went on a tractor date.

I drove an hour and a half to Snudge's farm* where Ivie was spreading fertiliser. After accompanying him for about two hours I figured I'd better tell him why I was there and muttered those three little terrifying words. He muttered three little words back ("the feeling's mutual") but I wasn't really expecting what happened next.

"Get out," he said, pointing to the tractor door.
"What?!" I asked, feeling a bit confused (especially as we were at least three fields away from my car).
"Get out," he said a bit more forcefully.
"What do you mean?," I asked.
"That gate's needing opened," he pointed, grinning.
"Bloody hell," I muttered as I jumped down from the cab and stomped to the next gate.

Tractor Date View

* I learned the other day that one of the fields at Snudge's is called Bagswallop. Ivie's lucky I didn't bagswallop him.

The Time Has Come

Farm facts I’ve learned this week
Bulls can be a bit stupid

So, after two years together it’s time for me to move in with the farmer. This is despite both of us insisting for the first 18 months of our relationship that we were Never Living with Anyone Again. 

Then we went away for a long weekend together at Easter. It was wonderful. We had uninterrupted time together. Nothing died or gave birth or needed fed outside at 7am. We walked for miles, met friends for drinks and generally enjoyed being tourists. 

I won’t go into the details (because they’re boring, not because they’re salacious) but the weekend ended with me being dropped off in a car park to get a lift home. We both felt pretty deflated and it didn’t seem a fitting end to a lovely trip away. We agreed to talk about our living arrangements at the end of the year (we like to take things slowly). 

Fast forward to September and I was offered a job out of the blue a mile from the farm. (Luckily, it’s not farm-related because I know nothing and couldn’t even bluff it.)  So, every day I make a 50-mile round trip with a lunchtime visit to the farm thrown in for good measure. The universe was making it pretty obvious that I should possibly consider moving in the not-too-distant future. Maybe. 

• It’s probably time for my feet and my slippers to be always in the same house.
• And for me to stop packing and unpacking an overnight bag three or four times a week.
• And it’s a bit daft for my life and my belongings to be 25 miles apart. 

I’m collecting boxes and bubble wrap five months after I moved into my current house but it doesn’t matter. I’m excited about moving and finding places for everything and making my home at the farm. 

I’m also looking forward to learning more about the farm. This week I learned that bulls can be a bit stupid. It’s the time of year (on this farm at least) when the bull gets to have his way with the ladies. When it starts to get colder, the cows are moved into a shed with one of the bulls who then has a captive audience. Except the bull in question keeps getting his head stuck in a feed barrier even though moving his head a few inches to the side would free it immediately. The farmer has freed it repeatedly and did not laugh when he told me the story (I misjudged that one…). The bull has now been put outside in the cold and replaced with another less stupid one who is having the time of his life. There’s a moral in there somewhere.