Have you ever felt that you must do something but can’t remember what it is? If so you are not alone as only the other day my wife said, “I am sure there is something I’ve forgotten.” Now every husband knows that you must never let a wife think she has forgotten anything and so I immediately replied, “Well my love, it is better to remember you’ve forgotten something than it is to forget something you’ve remembered.” She was not convinced!
Memory is a wonderful gift but it can sometimes play tricks, such as when the wife is certain that you forgot her last year’s birthday but you distinctly recall buying flowers from a filling station in Ledbury followed by a meal in the chippie. You are sure about this because the table was covered by a green-check plastic sheet and the batter was soggy.
Memory also plays its part during the seasonal year of the stockman. For example, every year I say, “Is it really twelve months since the shearer last came, and ‘can it be true that my lambs fetched £90+ at market last year but only £65 this year? Memories like this make me wonder if those folk prattling about ‘Fair Trade’ realise that ordinary British farmers need fair trade as much as foreign ones.
In early June, our kitchen was plagued by very tiny ants. Every morning we had ‘scout ants’ all over the place. One evening my wife baked a beautiful lemon-drizzle-cake oozing with sugar and put it in a tin on a high shelf, but next morning the ‘scouts’ had found it. Unfazed she cut a slice to find that the ants had penetrated the innermost parts of her succulent confection.
The cake was for our daughter and so a replacement had to be baked. But: as ‘it is a sin to waste food’ it was resolved that the original cake had to be eaten. But how to get rid of voracious ants was the question. A few days in the freezer was called for.
On thawing the cake, I noticed that there was no consequent resurrection of the frozen ants, and how this squares with the theory of Cryogenics in which super rich Americans are frozen solid at death in the hope that future medical cures will bring about their early resurrection I do not know. I can however say that by coincidence, the formica work surface of our kitchen bears the same name as that given by the early Romans to the ant. Formica on formica is enough to make folk scratch their heads.
June is also the time when flies lay their eggs in dirty or damp sheep wool and within a day or so maggots can be busily dissolving the flesh of the unfortunate sheep. In previous years we have even had hens affected and this year a friend was surprised to find a case in the feet of one of her horses. Chemical treatment is available as are a number of products designed to deter flies. Prior to modern sprays we had various nostrums, amongst which was diluted Jeyes Fluid and, for the odd case, the wife’s hair dryer. Hot air soon brought the maggots pouring out which were then eagerly devoured by our eager chickens.
The old ways were not as convenient as today’s pour-on products but were a lot cheaper. In fact I reckon that the big companies have worked out a scheme whereby any treatment you give a ewe nowadays costs about a £1 per shot. This seems to apply whether it is wormer, fly treatment, foot sprays, injections or minerals.
Talking about livestock ailments and of how farmers care for their animals, reminds me of an old veterinarian friend. In the early years of his practice it was suggested that he could very easily become a GP by undergoing a short conversion course. He listened carefully and, after a hearty laugh said, …………
“That’s fine, but it’s where I put the thermometer that will worry patients.”
View from the Pew 