So another New Year arrives. That means farm resolutions as well as the lose weight, drink less, join a Pilates group variety. Top of the list is being stricter about the time the rams and the bulls spend with their respective female counterparts. As warm May days extend to long June days and hopefully hot July ones, it’s easy to be relaxed about the herd and, apart from a daily check, we’re happy to let them pretty much get on with life. But come February when we start calving it’s a novelty for the first month and the second usually passes fairly swiftly, but after eight weeks the prospect of getting up in the night to check the calving shed distinctly loses its appeal. And the same goes for the rams in the autumn. So this year the boys will be in and then out – two months and it’s done and dusted – and I’ve made a note to self in the diary in red ink! January is the lull before the storm. A quiet month when we spend time focusing on the farm infrastructure – fences, gates, ditches, water troughs and the like. It may sound mundane, but to walk round a farm where every gate opens and pleasingly shuts with a resounding clunk is an absolute joy. One we strive for – but rarely achieve.

Every year we do a gate check and every year about half of them no longer open without brute force and the other half no longer shut without being tied up with string. The alarming rate of gate destruction is down to various guilty parties.

January is the lull before the storm. A quiet month when we spend time focusing on the farm infrastructure – fences, gates, ditches, water troughs and the like…

Lusty young bulls have a habit of overestimating their ability to leap a five bar gate in search of cows. It results in their front legs getting over and reaching the ground while their back legs are left dangling, and unable to push off. So they become suspended over the gate. As long as important parts aren’t trapped then it’s annoying but not disastrous and involves wedging two bales of straw, one under each back leg, so they can complete the leap. This leaves the gate severely bowed and no longer will it easily open and shut.

The horses, Betty and Murphy, are also in on the act. They’ve worked out that if Murphy pushes the bottom bar down with his hoof to ease the catch at the same time as Betty pushes forward with her nose, they too can open gates. While not inflicting major damage it’s often enough of a bend to make closure annoyingly problematic.
At least the sheep can’t get over or through, though of course there’s always the third option of wriggling under. If the grass is greener on the other side, lambs are canny at scraping their way beneath the bottom bar. And, as more and more burrow out, so the space under the gate gets bigger and sooner or later the ewes follow.
So major gate repairs are scheduled this month, and also fencing. Same culprits: cows pushing, horses leaning and sheep rubbing… As the old saying goes, there’s nothing sheep like more than escaping, apart from dying – and if they can die escaping they couldn’t be happier. It’s true they are real Houdinis and the slightest weakness will be exploited resulting in sheep happily munching in an angry neighbour’s garden. All part of the farming year!