A day of hard graft

I’m sitting on the sofa, feet in a tub of hot water and potassium permanganate, watching Numbers on television, and thinking “phew!” as I write this.

It’s been a long day of hard graft, even by our standards, and I didn’t manage to do everything that needed to be done.

The easiest way of telling the story of the day is to do it in bullet form—otherwise I’ll end up with a labyrinthine piece of text that no one will be able to navigate without the prose equivalent of a ball of yarn.

I was awake before 0500, so let’s take it from there:

• Get up, have a quick shower and throw some clothes on.
• Put the coffee on and start preparing the breakfasts so they’re ready to go at 0730 (oatmeal in the pan with hot water, Weetabix in the boys’ plates, juice poured, cutlery in place, bread in the toaster, plates ready etc). Drink my coffee.
• Pop my boiler suit, woolly hat, jacket and leather gauntlets on, then head out to load the pigs up. I’d reversed the cleaned and disinfected trailer up to the byre door last night, fixed the electrics, put in a bed of straw, laid out my tools (pig board, torch with fresh battery, clean buckets, muck fork etc), and hitched the Defender up so that saved time.
• Set up the temporary races inside the byre to guide the pigs into the trailer, put the trailer ramp down, and cover the byre floor and ramp with straw (pigs balk at changes in surface).
• Set up the lights so they shine into the trailer as pigs prefer to move into the light. Turn off the byre lighting and get the pig board.
• Open the gate into the pig pen and call the pigs out. They’re well trained by now so they come out easily, walk past me and begin investigating the way out to the ramp. I walk behind them, using the pig board to discourage them from turning, pausing now and again to allow them to check things over. In less than 10 minutes they’re happily playing in the trailer while I shut the gates and lift the ramp.
• Pack everything up, put some feed in the back of the Defender (I always have water in the truck) along with the pig boards, torch, muck fork and buckets.
• Do some of the morning chores, feed Delilah, water all the pigs, check and water the chickens.
• Head back inside, have a good wash, and make everyone’s packed lunches, plus prepare the boys’ “truck snack”—pancakes and jam, plus a handful of sultanas.
• Collect the paperwork, double check I have everything in the right order and take it out to the Defender, start it up and move it forward, then get the Other Half to get the boys up and dressed. The Wee ‘Un just needs a jacket and blanket, but the Big Lad needs his boilersuit and wellies. Load them up and give them their snacks.
• Head off to the abattoir at 0615.
• Arrive at the abattoir at 0645, reverse up to the ramp, get the Big Lad out and then go to find the lairage man. He checks the paperwork and we’re clear to unload the pigs.
• The Big Lad and I lower the trailer ramp onto the loading bay, move the bay’s gates into position, then open the trailer gates and walk in behind the pigs. I take the larger one, the Big Lad the smaller, and with a few hand taps on their rumps they’re up and on their way. We allow them to pause now and again while the lairage man waits patiently (he’s the better of the ones we know). The pigs happily amble along the passage into the abattoir, the Big Lad bids them farewell, and we head back to the trailer to close up.
• Spray the Big Lad’s boots and mine with disinfectant, give the tyres, mudguards and wheelarches a good spray, then it’s homeward bound—although we were stuck behind a JCB for a good few miles.
• Arrive home at 0730 just as the OH finishes cooking the porridge and a new batch of coffee. Have breakfast, get the boys dressed, see the OH off to work, and head back out to do more chores while we wait for the school bus (feed the rest of the pigs, let the chickens out and feed them, scrub and disinfect my boots so I can do the nursery run without getting changed).
• See the Big Lad off on the bus and drive the Wee ‘Un to nursery.
• Do the feed run, help load 300kg of stock feed in the Land Rover, drive it home and then unload it on my own.
• Clean the Land Rover (it should have been done before we left the croft earlier but time didn’t permit).
• Scrub the walkway between the pens in the byre and disinfect. (No time to muck out, scrub and disinfect the newly empty pen—a job for tomorrow.)
• Start moving some of the boulder pile so we can park the trailer on hard standing instead of the dirt, where it’s been sinking into the ground.
• Scrub myself clean, then head inside to do a couple of letters and pop the council’s copy of the pig paperwork into envelopes.
• Collect the Wee ‘Un from nursery, get him to buy some stamps, stick them on the envelopes and post them.
• Return home where we finish moving the stones, then move the wood heap and then move two chicken houses.
• Push the 650kg trailer into its new position. Legally, it’s suppose to be cleaned and disinfected within 24 hours of being used but I already have a strong suspicion this job is going to be done first thing tomorrow.
• Another good scrub down and we head inside for lunch. There’s just time to read a road safety book with the Wee ‘Un before we head in to the village to collect the Big Lad at 1430 and drive over to Huntly for the Wee ‘Un’s swimming lesson.
• Return home where I empty the bags of livestock feed into the correct bins.
• Make a blackboard to go above the feed preparation bench. We’ve been writing feed recipes on pieces of paper and having the blackboard will make life much easier.
• Cut some firewood.
• Feed the chickens and collect the eggs. The boys often do this, but today they’re playing sneaky commandoes and hiding from me (they think!).
• Play a quick game of football with the boys.
• Start feeding the pigs. The OH arrives home and reminds its Beavers night. It’s 1755 and Beavers start at 1800. Oops. She gets the Big Lad changed and takes him.
• Continue feeding the pigs, then water them, then fill their huts with fresh straw (it’s wet and muddy at the moment so they need more straw more often).
• Lock the chickens up.
• Hose down the hard standing and sweep out the walkway in the byre.
• Scrub my boots clean, then head in to get changed and scrub myself clean again.
• Remember that I haven’t washed the dishes, done a load of washing, swept the floor or mucked out Delilah. It’s 1845 and the OH is about to go and collect the Big Lad.
• Decide to cheat. Instead of the planned sausage, mash and veg, I make an executive decision and get the OH to buy some chips on her way home. I cook the sausages, eggs and a can of baked beans to go with the sausages. I know, it’s not our normal eco-friendly, home-sourced food but I’m too tired to give a stuff.
• Collapse on the sofa with the bucket of hot water and start the last chore of the day, Yes, you’re reading it.

Tired yet?

Because I am and I have another 5am start tomorrow, with the buyer of a pair of weaners emailing to say he’ll be here early, plus there’s the trailer to clean, Delilah to muck out and a long list of other things to do.

And some people tell me to get a job. It almost sounds tempting after a day like today.