Calving in a pea souper

2am phonecall.  Blanket fog.  Black heifer.  Black calf.  Oh what's that?  Goody it's backwards!  Momentary dread, but a beautiful big heifer calf!  (Pics tomorrow once I remember the camera). Calving can be nerve-wracking at the best of times  (it's like another child for Dad - it's well known that the choice between taking your wife to hospital with labour pains and "just popping out to see if that heifer is alright", will go in the cow's favour for any livestock farmer), but visibility helps!  The fog was so thick, the cows were investigating the torch beam and using the murky conditions to form their own band of Resistance stealth cattle - more 'Allo 'Allo than deadly killing force.  Fortunately, with a little tug, the calf was born and up within minutes.  That left time to launch into a nighttime discussion about the future of the farm.

After a week of calf rearing, general work and night-time calving, we're all a little weary which explains why at least one of us falls asleep at the table during every meal.  And, why I was found asleep on the kitchen floor the morning of the calving.

So for tonight, it's time to scrub off the red oxide I covered myself with whilst painting the plough mouldboards - it helps prevent rust so I'm hoping for an anti-aging miracle.  Only paint plough mouldboards whilst on your mobile if you are actually competent at multi-tasking or if you want to be accused of a grisly murder.   I'm off on an early morning onion scrumping mission tomorrow, and wandering around the countryside covered in "blood" is never a good idea.