A bit about cow fertility

Cows in heat Aug 17

We have moved into a new stage of watching our cows. Last spring we had to keep them under surveillance to make sure they calved safely, now I have to check them regularly to alert. make sure they are ready to be bulled.

There will be no bull, so the minute I see the signs of heat the AI man needs to be called and the cow penned. No one wants to miss the chance to get the cow in calf.

I was unprepared the first round and didn’t inform Kevin until days after, but to be fair I had not been informed I needed to keep my eye on them. After that I have been more alert and attentive.

The second round was a bit of a laugh. I will be honest and admit that while I had read up on the symptoms of the cows in heat I had totally missed out on a few details of the mechanics. Again, to be fair, it is my first go at this and somehow everyone takes for granted I tolthat I know the obvious…which I obviously don’t.

Early one morning I informed Kevin that a cow had mounted another and he immediately got on the phone to the AI man, who arranged to come in the afternoon. I put in the cow in the pen and as the afternoon came near Kevin asked me which cow I had put in.

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Checking the heat detectors on the back of the cows.

 

“Did you put in Sheila into the pen?”, Kevin asked
“What do you mean Sheila?”, I asked him slightly confused
“The one that is ready for bulling, of course. Is Sheila in the pen?”, he asked again.
“For bulling? Why on earth would I put Sheila in the pen?”, I answered.
“I told you to put her in, the AI man will be here soon and she needs to be penned”, he said a good bit irritated by now.
“You do realise that Sheila is the pony, don’t you? You mean Gypsy.” I said as the conversation finally made sense.
“I don’t know what silly names you have put on the cows. We never named our cows.”, he said exasperated.

Well sorry, but I do.

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Gypsy with her calf Atlas

We have our striped Galloway, with the apt name of Gypsy Rose Lee, for the first burlesque stripper dancer. You might have heard of the musical “Gypsy”, starring Bette Midler. She gave birth to Atlas, the white striped grey bull calf.

Oprah and her calf Goldie probably don’t need much of an introduction, as they are mentioned often enough in the blog. Oprah taught me how to milk and Goldie softened my hardened heart to cattle.

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Missy Moo, our smallest and most gentle cow.

Missy Moo, our smallest and most calm cow is a right pet. Her calf, Ash, is a lovely ash coloured bull calf that everyone finds just beautiful.

Our last cow just got her name, Nutella, but her calf is still nameless. The kids and I are a bit blank, but we will get there. All calves were sired by the same Charolais bull, and it shows.

So, I had put in the cow and not the pony into the pen, but to Kevin’s chagrin it was the wrong cow. One of the signs of heat is cows mounting each other, in my naïve logic I thought that the cow doing the mounting must have the hormones raging; never did I expect that cows in a normal state would feel the need to mount another cow just because the other is in heat.

While Kevin fretted about the arrival of the AI man, I exchanged the cows with plenty of time. The AI man literally flew in and out, the whole procedure took less than a minute and hopefully in 283 days we will have another calf.

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Nutella, she finally got named.

Another fact I didn’t know, and am not fully convinced of yet, is that you can choose a bull that can give calves that “are easy to calf”. Does it mean the calves are smaller? Are they more slippery? Do they position themselves better? And how in the world (except for size) is that defined by the sperm of a bull. I need to investigate this further, so feel free to enlighten me.

All cows but one have been in heat and are hopefully in calf. To facilitate the surveillance, an heat detector sticker has been put on every cow, just to make sure we don’t miss the chance to get them in calf and that the ones in calf really are.

The AI procedure doesn’t always take, and there is only a small window every three weeks to get a cow in calf. Fingers crossed that it all goes well, and while we might fret I am happy that the calves will not be born too early in the year. Warmer weather definitely made for easier and safer calving. So, we are holding our breath and awaiting for the signs of heat in Oprah, the last one to get in calf.

 

Sheep chores you try to avoid

 

 

Disgusting sheep chores Aug 17

It is probably high up there on the most disgusting chores to do on a farm. Thankfully it is not something that has happened to us too often, but a fly strike and getting rid of the maggots in sheep is not for the faint hearted.

Our lambs were not sheared when the shearer came by (read Sheep chores), when I asked about it he simply said it was not done. Fair enough, thought I, but what I didn’t count on was that the early born lambs had pretty long fleeces by high summer and the weather made it a perfect nesting ground for fly eggs.

My mother, visiting for a couple of weeks, spotted a lamb with what looked like mud on her back. She asked me if the lamb was dirty, but it wasn’t until the next day when I investigated more thoroughly when I saw the maggots crawling around.

A neighbour helped us to dose the lamb, by pouring anti-maggot liquid over the fleece. Unfortunately, this didn’t dent the maggots’ advance and the lamb was only slightly better the day after.

Because these things ALWAYS happen on a Saturday, right after the farm shops close, I could not pop-in into town to pick up the right chemical dosing. My neighbours were of course out of it and I had to research for alternatives.

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Lamb with ewe. Next year the early lambs will get sheared as well.

I got stuck into my computer doing research, as I had very little information on how to deal with it and no access to the proper maggot killing chemicals to use. Weighing options, chemicals, traditional cures, organic or herbal cures, prevention strategies, signs to look out for, weather impact, and finally settling on a mode of attack.

On Sunday morning, I made up my own concoction to kill maggots and went looking for the lamb with one of my daughters. The other had had a look at the lamb and maggots the previous day, and it had given her with nightmares that night.

For anyone that may need it, this is what my concoction had. Now, before you go writing it down for your own use, let me make it perfectly clear that this was purely put together in desperation and not based on years of experience.

I mixed a bit of water, paraffin and all the tea tree and eucalyptus essential oils I could find in the house.

We got hold of the lamb, tied up its legs, and while my daughter literally sat on it to immobilise it I started cutting the fleece with my kitchen scissors. Yes, I know, I will get a proper shearer…soon.

I cut and cut, and scraped off maggots as I went along. Following all the paths they made from the rump onwards, making sure I left no maggot trails untouched. One side, then the other, plus the rump and down the legs.

“Can I go and get a book mum?”, my less than interested daughter asked me as she was sitting calmly on the lamb.

“Are you cracked?”, I answered just as the lamb took a chance and tried to shake us off. There was no need to explain further that she needed to pay more attention.

I was finally satisfied that I had gotten almost all the maggots, to my charging I could not get at the smallest ones. This is where my concoction came in handy.

I poured the liquid over the lamb’s affected areas and was able to get a lot of the smaller maggots off, as they tried to get away from my home made mix. I still knew I would have to get stronger stuff to fully kill off the maggots, but this at least helped the lamb survive until Monday. We could tell that she was doing a lot better after this rough treatment, and I could go to bed satisfied that it would survive.

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Nosy ewe in the morning.

A few days later, I realised another thing I hadn’t counted on; in the scorching sun we had over a few days, the lamb got sun burned. Calling in to the vet, he just recommended cream, which was fine. But I brought it a step further and got Aloe Vera gel cream that I put on the poor lamb’s sunburned skin.

Not only that, I took and old t-shirt, cut it up a bit and fitted it onto the lamb back to front. The back legs through the arms of the t-shirt and the front legs through holes I made close to the bottom seams. Again, this home made solution proved to be a good one.

Now, I wish I had the presence of actually taking pictures of the whole process. Not that you’d like to see pictures of maggots, I presume. But the whole ordeal took so much out of me, that waving around my mobile phone was the last thing on my mind. So you’ll have to excuse me, that this post is a bit more wordy than usual.

Eating my home grown produce

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The time has finally arrived, when I can walk through my tunnel and “shop” for what need for today’s lunch and dinner. The fruits of my labour are paying off and are both abundant and full of flavour.

There are still ways to go to get a balanced diet, the meat protein is missing as it is not time yet to kill our lambs and too soon for the ducks to lay their eggs. It is still amazing how much you can do with the glut of squashes.

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Traditional deep red beetroot.

My private veg market, i.e. my polytunnel, is currently providing for 90% of all the veg we are eating. I am still learning the knack of spacing out the gluts and providing veg out of season. So, the only veg I am currently buying are onions, garlic and lettuces. You might be surprised at the lettuces as these can literally be grown all year round, but I had problems with sheep breaking in and seed not sprouting, my next crop is still in the early stages.

My beetroots are just beautiful, not only are they gorgeous to eat but are so pretty as well. I have the traditional deep red variety, but also bright yellow ones, light red, white and striped ones. I simply roast them with my potatoes, onions and a few garlic cloves; and serve them with crumbed up feta on top. Sweet, warm, smoky and so good.

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Curly kale, one of the most hardy veg to plant.

The kale, curly and other, is a powerful addition to pretty much everything. Such a hardy and easy veg to grow, and it lasts forever. We particularly love it in soups, but it also works well in stir-fries, salads, risotto, steamed on its own and in colcannon (an Irish dish of potato mash with green cabbage through it).

I didn’t have time to sample my greyhound cabbage, which I particularly love in salads. I will be planting a good few more of these next year, they take a lot less space than the traditional cabbage. A lot of my brassicas are interplanted with nasturtium flowers, which supposedly attract the caterpillar away from the cabbages and broccolis.

This year I have hunted for caterpillars with a much happier outcome, as my ducks simply love them and they are a great treat for them. I seldom have the heart to kill the butterflies in the tunnel, which leaves me at war with their progeny. I don’t mind sharing a bit of my brassicas with the caterpillars, but when they take the mickey (go overboard, Irish idiom) I get really pissed off. This year’s sprouting broccoli is doing pretty good, but I need to keep on top of the harvesting. Again, the ducks do love the flowered broccoli for a treat.

My tomatoes are almost ready, just a few more days of warm weather and we are there. I can’t wait to taste the Indigo Blue variety, which I’m hoping will taste as interesting as they look. While I have tasted blue tomatoes before, not shop bought tomato can be compared with what you grow yourself.

In an earlier post I told you about the Rolet squash (see Curbing my seed frenzy), a huge favourite in our family, and I can confirm that it still an excellent veg to serve. It is so easy to cook and can accompany almost any meal. Boil or steam for about 15 minutes until soft, cut in half and eat the soft inside with butter and a bit of salt. Some people also eat the skin, but I find it a bit bitter.

In the Clare Garden Festival last April, I bought two types of pumpkins or winter squash if you prefer, from a fellow selling a good variety of seedlings. A bright Ushiki Kuri (red kuri), which already has provided me with a few, and a secret type that the fellow said hailed from Catalonia, in Spain. He couldn’t remember the name but said that it had tasted fabulously when he tried it during his holidays. I will get back to you on that when I taste them. I am training them up to the rafters of the tunnel, which they seem to enjoy.

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Spagetti squash, a great low-carb alternative.

This year’s newbie success has to be my spaghetti squash, which are almost impossible to find in a shop and a meal by themselves. This is my first year growing them and they are doing really well. You eat them by cutting them in half and roasting them, you serve the spaghetti looking flesh inside by scraping it out with a fork. If you are doing a low-carb diet you could not ask for a better option.

I will leave you with a very cheap, tasty, fresh and a true the low-carb option. It is a favourite as a side dish or salad – zoodles – zuchini noodles. This is so tasty, particularly on a hot day, served with fish.

 

 

Zoodle Recipe 

3-4 zucchini or other soft squash
2 finely cut onions or handful of spring onions
Lemon juice
Olive oil
Salt
Handful of finely chopped coriander (optional)

• Cut the outer part of a zucchini or soft squash into julienne strips. I only use the more dense outer meat and throw out the soft core with the seeds. Do not use a grater for this, either cut with a knife, use a xxx or ideally a xxx. The xxx is a great investment which I would highly recommend for any kitchen.
• Mix it with the onion and salt, let it rest for about 10 minutes. Throw out the excess water and mix in the lemon, oil and coriander (after your own taste, like a salad).
• Serve as is or chilled, by putting it in the fridge for about 15 minutes.

I’m not going to give you recommendations on how much lemon juice, oil or salt to use, as I love lemons I tend to do my salads a bit on the sour side. Just do a bit at the time and find the balance that suits you best.

I know a lot of people don’t move away from the turnips, carrots, spuds and cabbages; don’t get me wrong, I love them but there are so many more veg to try and they are not difficult or complicated, but often surprisingly tasty.

I never expected the paparazzi

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Until lately, I have in a very small scale, experienced what it might be like to be persecuted by adoring fans or the paparazzi. It has calmed down a bit, but I am still conscious of what door I use to exit my house.

No, I have not overnight become a media star, my blog is not that famous and it is much simpler than that, although almost equally ridiculous and unexpected. It all has to do with the abundant TLC I give our animals on the farm. I still have many of my city girl sensibilities left, they have not yet been erased by the harsh reality of farming (see Farming reality slapped me in the face post).

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“The kind one”, our most placid ewe checking me out and looking for a treat

So it is no surprise really, with the level of coddling I give my animals, that they watch me and often follow me wherever I go. Our farm is small and many of the fields are facing the house. Depending on what door I exit, I am constantly greeted by one group of animals or other.

Now that that the pasture is plentiful their attention has lessened, but when I fed them animal nuts daily up to late spring, I could hardly leave the house without having hearing intense baaing from the sheep until they’d lose sight of me.

If I by chance am carrying any type of bucket, even now, there is literally a stampede to get at me. The sheep are bad enough, as the larger ones could easily knock you over; or as it also happened, they would run in between my legs and lift me off the ground. No, I do not relish riding an ewe and particularly not ones with wet wool.

At times, even without a bucket, they decide I am somehow feeding them and follow me around the field until I get to a gate. They then proceeded to stare at me and continue baaing, which clearly means “Feed me! Feed me now” in sheep.

The cows and calves are calmer, but once they spot the bucket I would imagine myself the middle of a rugby field with the ball in my hand and the other team coming against me. It makes me laugh to see them run at full speed towards me, but quite scary as well as I wonder if they will stop in time before they maul me. After being shoved and pushed around a few times when I was trying to empty the bucket in front of them, I quickly learned to be a good bit more imposing with my normally very calm cows. Lack of respect from their side would end in me being trampled.

 

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The cow rugby team coming against me. Scary!

Thankfully the cows are lazier than the sheep, and they will not follow me for long. On very hot or rainy days, they won’t even bother to look my way.

The ducks are smaller and easier to handle, but no less loud when they see me and know it is time to fill their buckets. They run towards me like a feathered cloud giving their cute quacks. I feel bad at times passing their pen, without any treats to give them as they follow me in their loud and cloudlike fashion.

At times I had to consider what I was up to and which would be the best door to leave the house from. While very cute at times, having 20 sheep baaing every time they see you definitely gets on your nerves after a while. I would take the roundabout way, just to avoid their demanding attention.

The positive of all this attention is that it is very easy to round up the animals. I can get both the sheep, cows and ducks into almost any pen or shed, with a little patience. As long as I am carrying a bucket they don’t care where I’m going or where I bring them. It is very handy at times.

 

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I need better shoes, I have had enough of being stepped on by sheep looking for a treat.

 

Kevin no.2 asked me a couple of weeks ago if I spoke some secret sheep language, as they followed me without any problem at all; this after he and Kevin had spent some time trying to chase them into a pen. I guess that is the upside of being a celebrity on this farm.

In all this paparazzi-type of attention I have forgotten to mention my most celebrity-like accessory, my very own body guard. Our dog Bella seldom leaves my side when I am working around the house, farm or polytunnel. Even when I write my blog she lies beside me, perking up the minute I make for a door. Undemanding and constant, my own unobtrusive and constant shadow.

Ah! The life of celebrity, but in a farm-like way.

 

Ducklings are a blast

I never liked chickens, or to be precise, I have always been afraid of them. There is something about their beady eyes and the sharpness of their beak that puts me off. I doesn’t help that I was chased by them as a child.

I am not too keen about birds either, so it was a great surprise to me how I have taken to my ducklings, literally like a duck to water (if you can excuse the weak pun).

Ducklings fitted snugly into a small crate.

The ducklings came as a little bit of a surprise and was as usual not the most organised or planned activity. I always had in mind that ducks would be ideal for the natural pond and turlough Kevin has been cleaning out in the last year, but as the chicken coop is in production on site, I figured ducks were a project for later.

But around here things fall naturally into our laps and we tend to go with the flow when opportunities appear. One of our neighbours had a large selection of ducklings for sale and it was just a matter of going and picking up the breeds we wanted. As ducks where my interest and I had done the most research, I was sent to pick up “about ten, I guess”, said Kevin, from our very entrepreneurial neighbour Fergal.

Now, let me tell you about my neighbour Fergal, who also sold us our cows. A lovely fellow, into about everything you can think of related to farming. Very down to earth and helpful,
but a salesman through and through.

“I’ll take ten, Fergal. A mix of laying ducks and ducks for the table”, I said.
“Did you say thirty? I know you have the space for it. There’s as much work in feeding ten as feeding thirty”, says he.
“Fine, I’ll take fifteen”, says I.
“I’ll give you a few for free, just for you”, says he.

Today I am the proud owner of 22 ducklings, which I bought at a week old. There are seven Aylsbury, table ducks, two mallards (which Fergal assured me wouldn’t fly off, fingers crossed), two unusual Cayuga, a couple Indian Runners and Khaki Cambells.

 

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Aylesbury duckling wondering if I have more worms to hand out.

My lovelies started off residing in a long cardboard box in my utility room. While I could have put them in the shed, I was afraid they might be killed by rats. During the sunny days we have been having, they have been out on the lawn in a temporary pen.

 

The ducklings are so much fun! I can spend ages looking at their antics and listening to their funny little quacky squeeks.

 

As they cannot swim yet, they don’t have feathers only down, I made up a shallow pool (compliments from Pinterest) for them. It is simply a large plastic painting tray, that with water looks like a miniature children’s pool. They just loooove the water and as the days are warm and sunny they don’t get cold.

With the dry mealworms I got in the pet shop, I am slowly taming them and when they see me they stand attention to see if I have any treats for them. I also fill their pool with chopped up weeds, herbs and lettuce, and you would be hard pressed to find happier ducklings when they dive after their treats.

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The ducklings just love the mealworm treats.

Now here is another strange development, I now scour my polytunnel for weeds such as the previously hated bitter cress and check my lawns for dandelion leaves, all used as treats for my ducklings who simply love them. I caught myself today, thinking that I might leave the cress to grow a bit more around my tomatoes, just to have more to give my ducks. I had to pinch my arm, just to make sure I copped on to myself.

They grow at an alarming rate and grew out of their box in no time. The ducklings, not so small any more, now reside in a handy pen in the shed. They still get the chopped weeds, but have now grown onto the grower feed.

The best thing of all; this is the first time I have lost my fear of fowl. Ducks are fun, they leave a mess and are extremely dirty, but will put a smile on anyone. They might lose their duckling cuteness as they get bigger, but somehow I doubt the funny quacks or the waddle gait will dampen their charm.

Will I be able to eat them? Yes. I love duck meat. Also, not all are meant for the table, most are actually meant to keep for eggs. Although a few of those might go, depending if they are ducks or drakes (females or males).

The golden rule in this house is “don’t name anything you are planning on eating”. With the farm animals as with the garden, what I grow is to be eaten, has an additional benefit or uses. This is why we have very few decorative plants and only one pet, our dog Bella. Even these earn their keep; the plants by attracting bees and other useful bugs, and our dog Bella is a great companion and watchdog. Useless with the sheep though.

Sheep chores

Sheep Shearing Jun 17

There has lately been a lot of practical farming being done. Kevin 1 and Kevin 2 (my husband and a friend of his), have been fencing a bit around the fields. It is a hated and heavy chore, definitely not made any easier by the amount of rock around the place (read Stony Gardening and you will understand). You can be assured that any time you try to push down a stake, you will hit a rock.

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The two Kevins, No. 1 in the back, preparing the sheep for shearing.

Another task, coming into the summer, is the sheep’s yearly hairdressing appointment, the shearing. As Kevin’s back has at him and he’s been walking around like an old man for weeks, we were very lucky to have the other Kevin’s help. I wasn’t looking forward to handling and turning the heavy ewes on my own.

 

I almost missed the shearing and the very taciturn shearer was in the middle of it when I got back from town with the kids. The sheep had been all penned in the shed, Kevin 2 grabbed one at the time as and handled it over to be sheared in rapid succession with an electrical shearer.

Grabbing the sheep was probably the most difficult task, once the shearer had it on its back the sheep went limp and let him get on with his job. Quick, quick, quick and done in no time. Next!

It is a real pity that the wool is pretty much worthless; a “waste product” the shearer said. I will bring it up to a mill and what I get will probably just about cover the cost of the shearing, which is fine I guess. I will probably keep one fleece, as I have a friend that has offered me how to spin with a hand spindle. It will hardly be a project for an Aran sweater, but it would be fun to try it out. Felting is probably an easier project, but I just love learning anything.

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Checking that all sheep had been marked. Each one got a de-worming dose.

 

The sheep we have are of meat or milk stock, and their fleece is primarily used for carpets or maybe house insulation. They are by no mean bred for their wool. As I understand it the finer sheep for good wool not only have a fine fleece, but also have a longer hair which facilitates the spinning.

 

Once they were sheared the sheep looked relieved and happy. To the rest of us they looked very skinny and bare, but in the weather we have had lately, it is really the best for them. The lambs, which were not sheared, look huge in comparison. In fairness, they are pretty big lambs, which will be a good return for us.

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The last one to be dosed. A quick squirt of a syringe down the throat.

A few days after it was time to deworm them. I noticed, and was quite disgusted, red slug-like worms in the faeces of one of the ewes. A clear indication of parasites in their bowels. So again, they were penned and an oral dose was given to each of them. Kevin pushed it down their throats with a large syringe, giving each of them a few seconds of discomfort.

 

Apart from these few chores, plus keeping a check on them every so often, there is little less that needs to be done with the sheep these days. I check them every few days, to make sure to note any worms, maggots, foot rot, or other discomforts they may have. They are thriving in the fresh grass and feel a lot more comfortable in the strange summer heat we are having.

It is just as well they require less attention, as my focus has been on other new animals here at Casa Ceoil. You might have seen a sneak peek on our Facebook or Instagram pages, a fluffy yellow duckling. That story though is for another blog post.

I did my gardening best

My gardening best

I promised I tried my best, I promised myself that I would not have an overflow of seedlings this year, I restrained my hand as much as possible while planting seeds, I have generously given away as many as I could, I even had seedling funerals and ate many of them in micro-vegetable state. And still, I am being drowned by them.

There are tomatoes galore, enough kale to plant a forest, cabbage for all, more celery than I ever wished for and so many flowers. My green fingers worked against me, as even the oldest seed sprouted into vigorous life. Who knew.

My sheep were kind enough to thin out many of my brassicas and kale seedlings, both planted in the beds and in the pots, when they ventured into the polytunnel a few times. At least they mind the plastic, unlike my bullock frenemies, and left my precious tomatoes alone.

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This cauliflower is begging to be planted, but I already have so many!

 

 

I have given away as many seedlings as I can. One friend commented that it was like going to a garden centre, as I loaded her with stuff.

Almost all my tomatoes have been planted, but I have a few tough and thriving ones in pots begging me to find space for them. I have cherry tomatoes, yellow ones, oval ones and I am very excited about the blue ones.

There are also peppers, both sweet and spicy. I never truly realised that Habaneros (very very spicy chillies) are from tropical climes, really needs a lot of heat. It is growing extremely slowly. Fingers crossed.

I never thought I would have success with artichoke seed I came across, now I’m wondering where I will have the space to plant these very large plants. A few years ago, I bought three seedlings that turned out to be Cardoons and not globe Artichokes. They are hardy, easy to maintain, tough and come back year after year in the outdoor garden, without me so much as looking in their direction. I didn’t even realise you could eat them until recently. Does anyone have any Cardoon recipes?

This year I thought I’d make everything that little bit prettier and I will end up having to create a flower border of some kind. I literally have a sea of flowers waiting for their forever home. It will look lovely though, I just don’t know how I will have the time to weed and maintain a flowerbed. It will probably look spectacular for a couple of months, and very sad for the rest of the year.

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A suprise crop of Globe Artichokes. I never thought they’d be so easy to grow.

I have tried making use of the flowers by interplanting them between the veg and in every pot I can find, and it looks very pretty. I always plant marigold between my tomato plants. This year, as in my plant plan, I also planted Calendula flowers to make hand cream. As a novice in flower gardening, just like vegetable novices, I did not realise how large those plants can get inside the tunnel. You learn something every year when gardening.

Again, the sheep have been kind enough to de-head most of my planted flowers. They will be taking a trip in the trailer to the butcher or the mart if that type of kindness continues.

Next year I will have to revise my gardening plan again, be stricter and harder. I was so proud that I had only planted the six cucumber seeds I needed for six plants. No more, no less. The sheep unbalanced the scale when they bit the top of two of the planted cucumbers. I’m sure I will find something to fill that gap, but six just looked so right in the spot.

My climbing rolet squash will do the trick. I have too many of those anyway, or maybe it is time for another polytunnel?

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RTE show, Nationwide with Anne Cassin, being filmed at the Irish Seedsavers’ plant swap day.

 

One bit of saving grace was the Irish Seedsavers’ plant swap day a couple of weeks ago. I happily brought my babies and gave them away to other loving homes where they will be appreciated. Thankfully we arrived quite late and there were not many seedlings to bring home; I did of course manage to grab a few odd ones…just for the craic of it. RTE was there that day filming a sequence for Nationwide with Anne Cassin, something that made my kids very exited.

The Irish Seedsavers have lovely gardens that have a wild touch to them. They are not like the tidy and perfect castle or walled gardens, but free, large and a great place for an outing in East Clare. The Seedsavers are specialised in native fruit trees and bushes, there is a lovely coffee shop and they also have a great array of workshops of all kinds, from beekeeping, gardening, beermaking and more.

A friend of mine has also given me a load of raspberry plants, which I hope will thrive by our back wall. There may be no jam this year, but I am sure these hardy plants will thrive.

Apart from a few stragglers of all kinds, it is only the celery and ginger that are giving me a bad conscience. There is a bit much of them and they are waiting to be planted. I am waiting for an overcast day to get them and my sweetcorn into the ground.

The tunnel is thriving and there are still hopes that this year will be the best year ever.

The bees love the flowered Pak Choi, I don’t have the hearty to pull it out yet.