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26/10/07
Careful use of slug pellets seems to be keeping these pests away from our fragile new wheat seedlings, but it is taking a lot of time (and field walking) to keep on top of them.
Thank you to all of the very kind people who have emailed to see how I am; still fighting on, if rather exhausted by this summer’s and autumn’s efforts. Harvest seems so long ago now.
Autumn cultivations and sowing had me working 14 hour days as Dad, remarkable that he is, felt like doing a little less tractor work this year. Nothing could keep him off the CLASS Challenger crawler tractor, but it worried me to have an old man in charge of so much power for too long, so I was giving him rests as well as carrying on with my own work. Knowing how difficult it was this year, I must look very seriously at employing a student next summer to lessen the load. Younger muscles and brain cells seem to be able to inject vitality into farming if properly employed and encouraged.
Only the spring beans remain to be sown as a combination of winter wheat and oilseed rape covers most of the farm already. Using a combination of the plough, Simba Flatliner tined cultivator and heavy Simba disks with culti-press we tried to fit the cultivations to the conditions required by each field. Fortunately we managed to make reasonable seed beds over most of the farm. Only a few clay banks were left too rough for comfort; I foolishly sowed them anyway, and have been fighting the slow germination and ravaging slugs ever since. “Regrets, I have a few…..”, and one of those is that in my keenness to reduce cultivations (and the farm’s carbon footprint) I lost sight of the fact that seeds require fine and firm seed beds for easy germination. Better preparation next time, I think.
Evenings have been rapidly closing in on the normal working day and I have to work quite a lot with the tractor lights. It is quite a different job in the dark and requires a different level of concentration, but still enjoyable in a funny sort of way. Night spraying is particularly interesting, the wind conditions are often perfect, but our fields are littered with many electricity poles and pylons and I sometimes feel like the captain of the Titanic.
Glen, a colleague at school, died unexpectedly a couple of weeks ago. He had led a very full life, but was younger than me, and it has made me think a lot, in the isolation of the tractor cab, about ‘the meaning of life’. Each of us needs to live in the moment, as well as plan for the uncertain future. Really unoriginal thoughts, but very relevant at this sad time for his family and friends. Education, was a passion for him, but he hated the edu-babble and un-evidenced mish-mash of educational theories and initiatives that are putting ‘white noise’ between teacher and pupil.
Fighting the high populations of rats which have descended on the farm this mild autumn is another problem. Our previous bating policy has proved insufficient and we are using traps, sonic devices and different types of poison to control their numbers. Rigorous inspections of the grain heaps and silos have been ‘stepped up’, as we do not want any of our valuable crops to be unfit for human consumption.
Most of the summer’s pile of un-opened letters have been finally tackled; my school reports written and my teaching documents (schemes of work, SEN register, target grades set) prepared for our imminent OFSTED inspection. Even George the cat is impressed that he can now sit and purr on a clear space on my desk.
I am looking forward to a very short break next weekend when I am going down to Butser for a Trustee’s meeting and, hopefully, some fresh seafood. Life has not been too bad, and I hope that this random collection of catch up notes has not been too ‘whingey’ (to invent a new word). You have read this far, thank you for your support.
Pictures will return to these pages when I can remember where I safely left my camera!
27/10/07
Camera found, snuggling under a tractor seat.
I have posted a few random pictures to bring this ‘blog’ up to date. Leaves seemed to be turning to autumn colours even as I walked around the farm this dull, but warm, evening. Yellows and purples are combining with the greens to give a spectacular display; but the winds forecast for tomorrow may strip the trees before they can reach their potential glory.
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30/10/07
And so I cried during “Let it be”. I don’t know why, but Paul McCartney’s performance on the BBC Electric Proms must have tapped into my youth, and opportunities missed. Quite a cathartic experience for an old ‘rocker’.
It must be something of an aftermath to my colleague’s funeral and the 25th anniversary of the death of one of my pupils from Leukaemia. A couple of people have asked me what I wrote about Glen, the South African teacher, on the school's internal email system; so apologies if I repeat it here:
For the memory of an irascible colleague
“Morning Workers!”, with that cheery greeting Glen started his school day. He was prepared to debate anything, and the half eaten sandwich or cake was no deterrent to the flow of words. These words, delivered with precision in several languages, were backed up with a profound depth of learning. He was a very well read man
His eloquence, fairness, sadness and pride in describing the recent tumultuous history of South Africa was a revelation to all of us who had merely observed it from our cosy European democracies. This African perspective seemed to inform his views on everything. In many conversations he struggled to understand the disdain with which universal and ‘free’ education was treated in our society by so many; when it was valued so highly by those who made great sacrifices to pay in his homeland.
His government service had taught him that leaders had to earn respect, not demand it as a right. ‘Edubabble’, arbitrary target setting and the endless flow of unproven, and poorly evidenced, educational theory were all topics liable to set him off on a characteristic tirade.
A character? A misfit? We all must decide that for ourselves. But he seemed to tackle the challenges that were strewn about his life with a mixture of exasperation and resigned amusement.
We have not known Glen at HHS for very long, and few were let behind his well maintained brusque façade, but his character and ideas will live on for a long time in the minds of many who came into contact with him.
He will be truly missed.
After the funeral:
"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee..."
Perhaps it takes an event as emotionally powerful as a funeral to give a true insight into our much vaunted three ‘R’s’: Respect, responsibility and relationships.
Glen’s family, friends and colleagues gave him a ‘good send off’ on Thursday afternoon. His children spoke with passion, fondness, love and respect of their father. It was a privilege to hear them; Glen would have been so proud. He had helped to raise them very well.
His sister in law threw fascinating light on his Diplomatic and Banking careers. His Knighthood medal was on display.
The warts and all comments of various speakers, helped give a very rounded picture of a man who we at HHS only had the vaguest knowledge.
‘Abide with me’, ‘The Lord is My Shepherd’ and ‘Amazing Grace’ were sung with rugby club enthusiasm; fitting, as Glen’s coffin was escorted into the church by his son, and friends, wearing South African Rugby shirts. A splash of colour to lighten this sombre celebration of a man’s life.
It was good that some people from HHS managed to attend, despite the half-term holiday.
If you did not know Glen, or found him a difficult man to work with, you would have been amazed to see the esteem with which he was held by so many others.
John Doone’s words pose difficult challenges in this self-centered world of ours, but if we are to believe in our 3 R’s, the challenges must be met.
Esse quam viderii
I sprayed RE30 tonight with a mixture of gramicides and insecticides. The tramlines were quite clear, even on the slug battlefields; so I hope that we can avoid having to re-sow some areas of this field. I cleaned the sprayer out thoroughly as I have to spray all of the oilseed rape against Phoma (as well as finishing the rest of the wheat when it has fully emerged in Holts, Big Pond, Eastbrock and Agnells). That lot should keep me busy.
Derek has carried on with topping the remainder of some of our field edge strips. He also prepared the ‘ancient wheat’ field for sowing as well as maintaining the monitoring of the grain store.
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Dad had a tyre changed on my car which had punctured on the way home from school yesterday. I was grateful for all of the offers of help from passers by. It could have been quite a roadside party, with only but the most delightful guests invited!
Oh no, they are playing Celine Dion’s “It’s all coming back to me now” on MTV. Here I go again, Meatloaf? Where are you when I need you!
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