• The Farm

    Tiny Tim and the Dark Horse

    Monday met us with dreich drizzle and thick grey skies. Heading out the door I received a brief phone call from a family friend who is helping us run the farm whilst Dad’s off his feet. He simply asked when I would be down as our first calves had arrived. Yes, calves, plural and two of them. Early, by about two weeks. Upon arrival I was greeted by the coo and two calves in the feed passage. Each calf was considerably different to the other; to the point where we looked through the remaining coos on the slats to see if two coos had calved, rather than it being twins.…

  • The Farm

    My farming story

    Having lived and grown up on farms in Orkney for most of my life it’s safe to say that I cannot imagine life without “the farm”. When I was very young we lived on my uncle’s farm and my first word was “coos”. My Dad, from a farming family, spent most of his adult life working on various farms as a farm hand, before later being employed as an agricultural contractor. It wasn’t until the late 90s that my parents got the opportunity to buy their own 25 acre farm on South Ronaldsay from my Dad’s uncle. I cannot remember when we started keeping our own cows, but I struggle…