Menoturals; Mooooments

Although we never actually were farmers as a family, my parents seeking to rise into the 'professional class', there was no getting away from the roots of our existence. My father's father was from crofters and worked in the forestry and timber industry, so we learned lots about trees and what surrounds them, as well as about lumber and dressing wood.

My favourite holidays, though, were with my mother's side of the family. On that hillside place by Hawksnest. Getting stuck in snowdrifts in winter. Helping with lambing in the spring. Cutting and baling the hay in the summer. Stacking and attending markets in the autumn. 

Grandad mainly kept sheep - he was the fourth in a line of shepherds, after all, and in the Meggat days, he would do the traditional walking of the herd all the way to the marketplaces. Up at Springfield, now in the modern 1960s, trucks would haul the beasts selected for sale. He even occasionally showed up at The Royal Highland Agricultural Show near Edinburgh. There were cattle, but not many in those days. Had elder son Wullie survived to take on the farm, the shepherding line would have continued...it wasn't to be. When Andrew took over the farm, he moved more toward cattle stock, with sheep as the sideline, and kept pigs for a while. I liked those pigs - real characters. I also loved the sheep and cattle. It has been one of those ponderment things that pop up now and then - had life taken a different route, and I'd been more static, anchored, as it were, I may well have taken up the farming life. Or, probably, been a farmer's wife. That was not on my deck, though.

All the same, I retain a deep and abiding interest in agriculture (and don't forget that before emigrating to OZ, I worked for the East Scotland College of Agriculture). I am not as current as I once was with the trends and fashions in farming, but I do my best. 

When Andrew retired from farming, he did at least have the side paddock to offer as agistment for whoever needed summer hill grazing for their animals. That has mainly turned out to be his son-in-law. The current batch of cows and calves are a mixed lot, Shorthorn crosses of no particular line. The calves are 'bullocks' - castrated - intended for the beef market. 😕 I know I can't expect everyone to become vego - but really... look at those faces...

Anyway, that's Bruce's batch. Over the track in the upper field, among the sheep, there were four young bulls destined for the breeding market. These are Shorthorn cross Highland - a breed developed on the island of Luing (pron. "Ling"), right here in Argyllshire. Quite recently, too, it has been only an established breed in its own right since the mid-1960s. Luing Cattle is now one of the most sought-after lines for any farm with high ground. The hardiness of the Highland bloodline ensures thriving in low-arable environments.

That one on the left was showing off a bit. Practising his snort and whine and drool and huff! The other three just looked at me, bemused. I had a favourite, though. I mean, who could resist this handsome dude??!!! That's the end of today's lecture on cattle... why not pop over to the LLB Gang's page and see some more Nature Friday posts?