What's Got Three Wheels?

What I've been thinking about:

1. The weather. 
2. Dad jokes. 

I know us Scots think and talk about the weather more than most but it's at least double that for farmers. Sometimes it seems that Ivie endures Countryfile with his arms folded just so he can listen to the forecast at the end. 

This May has been a bit damper and colder than usual - Countryfile shared the exact stats last night but those of you who know me will know that I'm not really a details person. Suffice to say, it's been cold and wet for May and Ivie has been a bit crabbit and grumpy for May. 

He usually has a rough idea of how his week is going to pan out. Inevitably, that changes as the week goes on and it rains more (or less) or part of a machine needs taken off (or put back on) or something else happens (or doesn't). It seems that this past week has changed by the hour, though, as has the jigsaw of all the jobs that need doing. 

Ivie and Rudi going off to work

As it's dry this evening Ivie is catching up on a job that was postponed yesterday due to unexpected showers. One of the things that I'm getting used to is that if it's a nice evening, I'll probably spend it alone. (That suits my introvert tendencies but sometimes it would be nice to go to the Brigend Pantry for an ice cream together and not have to wear scarf, gloves or hat.)

I was thinking of making a cuppa and sitting outside my shed to admire the view and get some more vitamin D. There's only one problem...

I can cope with most aromas on the farm (including Ivie) but this is a bit ripe, even for me. So, I've settled for an indoor cuppa and admiring the view from the window (still spectacular, no nose peg required). 

All this reminds me of my Dad's favourite joke:

What's got three wheels and rings like a bell?

A barrowload of DUNG! 

(Insert eye roll here.)

Still, it means I'm in sole charge of the remote control. I'm off to find the Weather Channel so I can plan my next 99.

*** BREAKING NEWS ***

I've just gone online so that I could link to a definition of the 99 to anyone not familiar and the UK IS FACING A SHORTAGE!!! Never mind the Weather Channel, I need a lie down! 

Rain, Rain Come Away In

Things you should know:

1. Farmers like it when it rains

2. You're unlikely to go on a date with a farmer on a sunny day

As I write these points above it makes me realise that the chances of actually going on a date with a farmer at all are pretty slim. Even when we're not in isolation. 

Throughout the year, Ivie and I joke that we'll see each other in November - it's no coincidence that we got together one November. Our first date was crammed in between curling fixtures and car maintenance but we made it. Just. 

So, we've just had some of the warmest, driest weeks on record. It's been great for someone like me who's been shielding since mid-March as I've been able to sit outside and drink tea, go for walks (within the confines of the farm) and top up my vitamin D. 

Not so great for farmers or their cows. Cows drink a HUGE amount of water every day. I've just googled it to try and get a definitive answer but answers varied between 3 and 70 gallons so we'll just leave it at A Lot. 

                   

Ivie has spent an inordinate amount of time guddling about with water, topping up troughs that the cows empty as soon as he can fill them and shaking his head at the low levels in the hydro pond. 

Aside from having an impact on the water needed for cows, the rain (or lack thereof) also affects every single other bloody thing that Ivie does. I don't pretend to understand what conditions are required for each job but it's along the lines of:

"I hope the wind dies down/picks up, the rain starts/stops and the sun shines/doesn't so that I can spray/spread/cut/disc/roll...."

Remember the old cliche of British Rail and the wrong sort of leaves on the line...?

Anyway, this week the dry spell has ended and we've had almost enough rain. Ivie's as happy as Larry, whoever Larry was. 

I've just googled that, too, and got a more satisfactory answer than to cows' capacity for drink:

It originates from an Australian boxer called Larry Foley in the 1890s, who never lost a fight. He retired at 32 and collected a purse of £1,000 for his final fight. 

Thank you, google.

Tuesday morning was the happiest I'd seen Ivie in weeks. He came in for breakfast head to toe in waterproofs, dripping wet and beaming from ear to ear. I half expected him to shake himself like a dog all over the kitchen floor before lying in front of the fire for the rest of the day.

Suffice to say, I'm looking forward to our second date in November 2021. 

Sssshhhh!

There's something you should know:

There are certain times when you absolutely 100% should not interrupt a farmer. 

Most of the time Ivie is pretty receptive to my witterings, hilarious jokes and stupid questions (this in itself means he's a keeper). But I've learned that there are certain times I should keep these to myself. I've collated a helpful list.

1. When he's watching tractor porn
Just to clarify, this involves watching tractors, spreaders and balers doing their thing in big, flat fields. It's not naked folk on farm machinery. At least not when I'm in the house, anyway. He googles very specific things like 'HX 1090 baler with extra turbo in field in Northern Australia'. Probably.

2. During Countryfile

For non-farmers, Countryfile is the weekly farmery programme on a Sunday night that reports on farming from around the UK. For farmers, that's the programme no-one's allowed to speak during unless it's to splutter, "that's not farming. That's gardening!"

(I'd only been living with Ivie for a month when I first shouted at Countryfile. It was a very proud day for both of us.)

3. During the weather forecast at the end of Countryfile
This is an extended weather forecast at the end of the farmery programme that may or may not be correct by the time Tuesday rolls around. But still, it's important to nod at all the right moments and possibly suggest that it'll be too dry to spread fertiliser until Thursday at least.

Thanks, Ben

Being quiet is not my natural state, especially at the moment when Ivie is the only human I have close contact with in real life. The poor bugger has to listen to me use up my daily quota of words - or at least pretend to listen. I'll have to take the hint if he suddenly starts watching Countryfile boxsets.