Not Such a Perfect Day

What I've been thinking about this week:

• Teamwork

Ivie and I are pretty similar in a lot of ways. We're both a bit lazy about housework, neither of us is bad cop when it comes to puppy training and we find each other hilarious (thankfully). 

Who's in charge here? I'll give you one guess....

I can't imagine being with someone that a. I don't find hilarious and b. Doesn't find me hilarious (as in funny haha, not funny peculiar). Laughing every day makes my world go round. 

World events sometimes make it hard to find something to laugh at but our little world usually provides good comedy fodder. The punchlines often involve shite and are delivered during meal times but I'm getting used to adapting my description of a dirty joke. 

Of course, there are lots of ways we differ, too, such as our tolerance to cow shite on our clothes, skin and soft furnishings, as well as our ability to reverse large piece of machinery in small spaces (I don't need to try to know that I would cause thousands of pounds worth of damage).

These similarities and differences do mean that we make a pretty good team, though. 

Yesterday's team task in glorious sunshine involved me holding the dog and proffering treats and encouragement while Ivie clipped her fur. It's not quite up to Crufts standard but it's better than it was. 

Gratuitous puppy pic

Today's weather has taken a turn for the worse and it feels more like February than the end of June. The wind is howling and the rain is coming down in sheets, making it Ivie's least favourite kind of day. Why's that, I hear you ask. Well, because it's the perfect day for doing bills. 

Here's how much Ivie enjoys it. 

11.08am   We start doing the first bill. 

11:16am   Ivie: Is it time for a break yet? 
                 Me: We've been doing this for 8 minutes.
                 Ivie (with petted lip): It feels like 8 hours. 

Not Ivie's Happy Place

So, the kitchen is a bit of a tip and the dog is running rings round us but at least the money will come in and we'll still be laughing at our own jokes. 

Ice, Ice Baby

 What I’ve been thinking about this week:

• Socialising

What I haven’t been thinking about:

• Fertiliser prices

Over the last few weeks, it feels like that world has started to open up a lot more. I’ve gone from being a bit anxious about leaving the farm to looking forward to seeing other people. I’ve still got some anti-social tendencies but they’re more personality-related than covid-related. 

For the last couple of years, we’ve all been making our own entertainment at home. Being middle-aged, ours has revolved around drinking wine, eating salty snacks and laughing at our own jokes. Now that we’re comfortable being out and about much more, I’m cutting down on the frazzles so that my going out clothes still fit but I’ll hold on to the vino and hilarity if you don’t mind.

Last week, we were at a curling club dinner to celebrate 50 years of the local ice rink. (There’s a sentence I never thought I’d type.)

Over 300 people were packed on to the iceless ice rink for dinner, drinks and a lot of speeches. It was a good night, catching up with people we hadn’t seen for a long time and being in the same room as a lot of Olympians and shiny medals. There was a shout-out to all the clubs represented and I was more than a little disappointed that ‘curling widows’ wasn’t a recognised group in its own right. 

What I’d forgotten about socialising in the outside world with Ivie was the topics of conversation. There’s a lot of crossover between the curling and farming communities so inevitably the chat around our table turned to lambing, silaging and fertiliser prices. In fact, one couple even had to leave early because a cow was calving at home. Another sentence I never thought I’d type. 

Very expensive, apparently

I like to think I can hold my own a bit more these days when it comes to farming chat. Gone are the days when I didn’t recognise anything or anyone being discussed and drifted off in my own head, circling back when we got to more familiar ground (or asking really, really stupid questions). Having said that, there was the party where the men I was standing with got on to different brands of wellies and which cattle breeds were their favourites to cross. Even I couldn’t fake interest in that. 

What’s changed, though, is that I know more people and I can go off and find someone who wants to talk about the important things in life. Like Sewing Bee, the age spaniels finally calm the **** down and how long it’ll be before we’ll need varifocals. I told you I was middle-aged. 

Ambitious stick carrying

Gold!

What I've been thinking about this week:

1. Gold medals. 
2. Keyboard warriors.

It seems like there's only one thing on anyone's mind today: curling. A quick scan of Facebook tells me that lots of people stayed up late to watch Team GB women's curling team win gold. 

I have to admit that I find the rules a bit confusing and there's a lot of vocabulary involved. I've picked up bits here and there but I know enough to know that there's levels of tactics going on that I couldn't even imagine. It feels a bit like when someone tells you The Magic Roundabout has got layers of meaning and you just find a cow called Ermintrude amusing.  

Lambing gave Ivie an excuse to stay up late and watch some of it last night then get up early and watch the highlights. I left him to it and swooped in at the last minute when I knew the game was won and I wouldn't have to ask so many questions or sit quietly wondering what a four foot was or how Steve Cram could tell a particular stone had a lot of weight. 

First Spittal lambs of 2022

Thanks to Storm Eunice this week it's been hard to remember what it's like to have calm, dry days. It was so windy, rainy and generally grim today that a day in my shed was called for. 

It's such a treat to get the log burner going, settle under a blanket and read a good book in the shelter of my shed. It's a cosy haven where I'm in control of who or what is allowed - no dogs, no aimless scrolling, and not too much noise. (Ssshhh). 

Ivie popped in just before lunch and before he even opened his mouth I knew what he'd been up to. 

One of the many things I enjoy about living with Ivie is that he's pretty laid back and there's never much to grumble about, even when he's sleep-deprived during lambing. I relish the calm atmosphere and Ivie's easy going nature about pretty much everything. Except below-the-line comments. 

He can't help himself. He reads an article then instead of stopping at the end and thinking to himself, "that was interesting. Time for a coffee," he keeps reading.

Practising for 2026

What had got his goat this morning was people commenting on the curling. Some people were very upset indeed that the team was called Team GB when Scotland was the only nation represented in the team; others were questioning whether the 'G' should feature in the name at all. And I'm sure others still were making inappropriate comments about the relative attractiveness of each of the curlers. 

I feel like having two older brothers is good practice for keyboard warriors. My eldest brother, in particular, knows what buttons to press and presses them often. Sometimes my inner voice whispering, "don't react, don't react, don't react," wins and I smile sweetly while ignoring whatever he's said. Ivie's problem is that he is the big brother so hasn't had enough practice of dealing with sibling goading. Or with Brian from Wolverhampton ignoring the fact that today, on the last day of Beijing 2022, Team GB finally won Gold.