Doing fine

Flavia, Sahara and Sauda are doing fine, although Flavia seems to be a bit of a neglectful mum, seemingly preferring to be milked by machine than by kid - but Jussi reckons the kids are getting some milk cos they seem to be thriving.

Building a chicken house

A long long time ago, Malcolm and Helen built us a frame for a chicken house. Now we have chickens we are pulling out most of the stops** to complete the house. The task is urgent - several neighbours have reported losing hens to polecats recently and the hens' temporary accommodation is by no means polecat-proof. Here are the latest piccies of progress - including a very wet and bedraggled me - but work cannae stop for a bit of rain you know. We are not quite building it to the design Malcolm planned but I'm sure he wont mind.

Interestingly, comparing these piccies and the one in the link above, seems to confirm my feeling that the chicken house is subsiding; the back is sinking. Ach - it'll be fine.

**I mean there's other things to do as well you know.

New arrivals - 2

Buying chickens the Highland way

"I'll meet you at the Indian carry-out in Bonar Bridge. I'll be there with a white van from 1:30 to 2:15 and I'll be surrounded by hundreds of other chicken buyers." explained Donald MacDonald of Skye when I phoned him on Friday to order some chooks. There's something ... erm ... poignant? about picking up your chickens from the Indian take-away don't you think?

So I set off in the van with neighbour** for the 90 minute or so drive to pick up the four browns I'd ordered. I chose browns after much deliberation and after learning that browns were all that Donald MacDonald had left. Neighbour had been more organised and was going down to pick up six black rocks she'd ordered months ago.

Donald MacDonald was indeed by the Indian take-away and was indeed surrounded by a motley collection of fellow customers who arrived in vans, and cars and with or without trailers, announced their name, handed Donald a box and a wadge of cash. Donald put the cash in his pocket, rifled through the heap of pre-written receipts and gave one to the customer and then withdrew the ordered birds from the van - which was absolutely packed with poultry boxes - and gently but firmly put them into the customers box and happy customer loaded up vehicle and drove off. For us, after the long drive, the operation took about 2 minutes - so incredibly well organised was Donald MacDonald of Skye. So quick it was all a bit anti-climatic so neighbour and I had to seek out a cafe and linger for a bit to make the drive feel worthwhile.

But here they are - four splendid browns. All we have to do now is build the chicken house.

**She lives about 7 miles away - so that'll be a near neighbour then.

New arrivals - 1

Trixie is now the proud mother of a bruising looking mega-male-kid who has been named Samson. There was some discussion as to whether Samson was an African name - eventually it was decided that it was as so much of the bible is set in Africa.

So meet Samson. His entrance into the world was very difficult - and this was Jussi's first serious shot at assisting birth. He's very big - which made the birth difficult - but more significantly his legs were all pointing in the wrong direction so Jussi had to get in and get everything aligned proper. Difficult, scary, and unpleasant. Samson's legs haven't quite recovered from the trauma - but we're hoping they'll sort themselves out.

But she succeeded and very well done all. Samson was born on Saturday afternoon. I was elsewhere at the time and so was of absolutely no help whatsoever.

Planting mnemonic

Lady Christl sent a rocket into the Pentlands (like a javelin) but accidentally hit a kestrel.

Rocket has three pentland javelin nearest the raised bed and then pentland javelin has two kestrels nearest the gate.

Some of you will be screaming by now. Wracked with tears, pulling hair out by the fistful. I know. And I apologise. But really the weather has been awful - too bad even for the warming work of preparing the beds. But they are in. Hopefully the maincrops will go in next week.

The somewhat late first earlies should be ready around June 30th, and the moderately delayed second earlies about July 21st (not allowing for the extra weeks to be added cos it wont stop bl**********y snowing).

More piccies

It would be highly convenient if, in some obscure African language, 'fingerprint' began with an S. Very strange finger-printy pattern. Meanwhile, I've been trying to plant veg. In between hail storms that is.

Summer! Gityerassoverere!

Kids!

Flavia has given birth to two teeny little baby girls. She chose 3am on a night of thunderstorms, hail and snow.

So here they are: one is a spitting image of Flavia really - only a bit more bruiser like - taking after her dad perhaps. (The link takes you to a picture of Hugo - but you'll have to scroll down a bit). The other, currently considering whether life might be better as a mouse or a mole, has a bit more of her fathers colouring.

They are both pure Anglo-Nubians so their names will

reflect their African heritage, and will start with the letter S. Suggestions on a postcard please...

More are due tomorrow night - but there's little sign of them so we expect them to be late. Which might mean Jussi gets to sleep in a bed tonight.

A little bit of Icelandic cloudburst

While the news broadcasts are full of forlorn shots of desolate almost-holiday makers bemoaning volcanic eruptions in Iceland - I can only think of one thing - all that volcanic ash will be really good for the soil. Eagerly I rushed out this morning hoping to find a world dusted with veg-boosting nutrients, but alas, there was none. It's another clear blue sky this morning, and as I gaze upwards I think I can see streaks of off-white cloud. Is this Viking dust? Why is it so high up? My veggies need it down here!

Disappointed my thoughts turn elsewhere - like to people who live near flight paths around airports. How strange it must be for them to have such peace.

Back at the ranch we are preparing for kidding. Matilda, a milker who wasn't supposed to be pregnant, has been getting very fat. She's always been a greedy goat and Jussi has responded to her growth by cutting rations. But this morning the truth was revealed in the form of lots of discharge and suddenly she's looking thin. Goats have a peculiar habit of having phantom pregnancies and when they come to term they 'cloudburst' - a white discharge. So now she needs feeding up.

The clouds have also been discharging over Durness of late. There's a NATO exercise and work outside has been accompanied by the percussion of what must be pretty bloody big bombs scaring the shit out of residents, tourists and expectant livestock. They do this every year at lambing time. Outrage. This military exercise is a biggy - and extents as far south as Peebles - but for now, around here our military might seems to have been extinguished by a bit of Northern dust.

Let's hear it for the Vikings! Yippeeee!

I'm off to help a man move some wood this afternoon. Labour which will be paid for in full with extra fire wood and a couple of sea trout. Yum yum.

Goat stew

We picked Rambutan up this week. He'd been hanging around the abattoir for 2o days so it was time to bring him home. For an extra £15 the abattoir butchered him for us. Jussi had made a list of all the bits she wanted whole, diced and minced - but they ignored that because, they said, there wasn't enough meat to mince. Given the huge machines they have I can understand what they meant, although it doesn't explain the lack of dicing. Everything was still on the bone.

If you have a pet, say a cat, dog or guinea pig, try imagining him or her coming home in a cool box and then spreading the contents of the cool box on the dining table trying to work out if that bit is shin, and if that bit is scrag end and poking bits - "no that must be shoulder I mean I can feel the scapula". And moving bits around trying to recreate the shape of said bouncing pet.

Still reading? I'm impressed.

Everything was double wrapped in plastic (mentioned in case there's any hygienists reading). We labeled the bits and packed him off to the freezer keeping some back for tea. I thought I kept back loin but Jussi phoned the abattoir to question the butchery and found out it was flank which had been rolled and strung and then sliced. A very fatty, very cheap cut. (and quite different from loin!).

So I stewed him. Jussi was sooooooooo impressed with the result she insisted that I write the recipe down. So here is what I did:

Simon's warming Good Friday stewed goat

Five slices of rolled flank cut about 1 inch thick. Season with lots of salt and white pepper and thoroughly brown in a little oil (cos the meat is fatty) - I used the orange enameled casserole dish but I doubt you have anything the like of which.

Put the meat to one side and lightly brown two finely sliced onions and a head (bulb) of garlic. - the cloves peeled but whole. Add about 5 sliced good-sized mushrooms.

De-glaze the pan with a good big splodge of red wine. Probably about a bottles worth - but I just squirted it out from the supermarket wine box.

Return the meat to the pan and add two sliced dessert apples a glug of dry sherry (I meant to add port but forgot to read the label!!) - a splash of red wine vinegar, two beef stock cubes and about 1/2 a teaspoon (2.5ml) dried rosemary. The liquid should just cover the meat, if it doesn't, add more wine.

Put the lid on the casserole and cook in the oven about about 150C for 3 hours. After 3 hours turn the oven off, take the lid off the casserole and leave in the oven to cool/rest for about 45 minutes.

Serve with un-fussed veg (plain boiled spuds and steamed cauliflower and carrot in our case - a spring green would have been good - but unbuttered - the meat needs un-fussed veg to counter-act the fatty meat).

And that's it. Jussi raved about the delicious meat and the complex depth of flavour of the stew - but as you can see it is a very simple recipe.

The flank of 12 month old castrated kid goat hung for 21 days and slow cooked is deliciously and meltingly tender with a sort of mild beefy flavour. Stunningly good eating.

Egg painting

Those who know us know of the annual egg painting event. We continue the tradition - though with nothing like the quantities of alcohol that used to grace the event. Here are the best of the kids eggs this year - but let's be honest here - we miss all the Dunbar folk and MTBs delicate touches all the more at times like this.

But here are The Hospital Patient, Humpty Dumpty and Bride, and Pikachu.

Harvest

The prolonged winter has made planting things a bit late - I've still done nothing more than plant some onion sets and sow some leeks in doors, but at least we are still harvesting from last year. These parsnips are huge madam - and the last of the spring onions have just been harvested - we've still got more parsnips, leeks - and some purple broccoli soon. Also surviving the winter and reviving themselves are some spinach chard and even fennel.

It's a glorious day today - more of the same please.

TWO YEARS!

Excuse me - I've bin on the shwiskee.

We've been here two years. Woop.

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And happy birthday to the Crunchy Carrot - we miss you!

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But for us - two years eh! It's been great.

hic