I’m convinced that wading through knee deep mud while carrying buckets of water must be having some sort of positive effect on my legs and backside?! To this end (no pun intended) I’m thinking of bringing out my own fitness dvd. It’ll mainly show me doing the chores here at Swallowtail Hill Farm in my [...]
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By The Kitten In The Woodpile
Sarah is allergic to cats. So it came as something of a surprise when she rescued a very small kitten from the yard log pile and set about looking after it. And even more surprising when she expressed an ardent desire to keep it once it was tame. She has named it – Woody - [...]
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By Another One Bites The Dust…
Another two actually. The cockerel count at Swallowtail Hill has dramatically reduced. This was to put an end to the violent gang rape that was a feature of life for the caravan hens, one of whom is so traumatised she’s taken to her bed with the vapours. It was also to avoid the inevitability of [...]
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We Cannot Have An Animal Called Snuggles!
But we do. Once again, heart overcame head, and Snuggles, a grey lionhead rabbit arrived complete with her own hay, feed bowl and blanket. It’s possible she doesn’t know she’s called Snuggles, in which case we can re-name her – possibly Fugly? Lovely for the children, and amusing for those adults clever enough to work [...]
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Freshly Frozen Chicken
It is 8 degrees below at Swallowtail Hill. There is six inches of frozen snow on the ground. I no longer care what I look like, although I suspect I look fairly sporty in woolly cap, lined moleskin trousers, waterproof chainsaw boots, long white over-socks, a filthy padded jacket and fleecy gloves. If only people [...]
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This is the story of a rural life, lived by Sarah and Christopher on their 40 acre Wealden farm, near Rye, which they share with assorted animals, wild flowers, trees, an eclectic array of locals and the odd visitor who thinks it's an idyll. Sometimes it is.
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