Sandyford Clover SUPERCOW 2013

They have done it again.

My super brother and his family have officially bred reared and nurtured the best dairy cow in the whole of the UK winning the highest accolade of SUPERCOW 2013 at the UK's biggest farming event of the year, Agriscot

Well done the Tomo's!

We are so proud of them and our dad Eric would have been bursting with pride.

All the Fun of the Farm

An overnight sojourn to my brothers farm to celebrate his littlests 4th birthday and a chance for a catch up.

Here is the birthday girl rounding up cows in her party frock.

 

 

Here are his beautiful multi award winning brown and white ladies (Ayrshires) coming home for milking....

 And here are the cowhands.....

...a bit different from my day when you walked around the field, usually with a dog.

I can vividly remember lying in the grass when a cow got up from lying down and feeling the grass warm against my cheek where her big body had lain.

Great fun to be had feeding the numerous new calves.

Even more fun having a go on some of the boys toys....

All very nostalgic.

Eric Tomlinson RIP

It was a gorgeous February day just like today, one year ago, when I met my Dad after dropping the car for its MOT. He took me to buy a washer as mine had broken down, I was waiting till payday, he was doing my washing (seven in my house!) and I think he was a bit fed up of it.

He was wearing his overalls, flat cap and wellies. He looked (and smelled) every inch the dairy farmer he was.

The washer was duly purchased and being a farmer, he negotiated a discount. As the man from the shop lifted it singlehandedly into the back of my dads vehicle, my dad regaled him of the tale when my mum was in labour at home, complications ensued and she had to go into hospital. When the ambulance arrived, in dads words, they couldn't put daylight under her! (She being approx 16 stones at the time.) He, however, in true Charles Atlas style, picked her up like a baby and carried her to the ambulance.

At this point in the tale, I am standing behind dad raising my eyes skyward to the washer man who just chuckled.

On arrival at my house, we carried the machine into the garage between us. He had a brew of tea with me, declined lunch because he had had a bacon and egg breakfast and was on his way. As he stood at the door before he left, he reminded me he was going to a funeral a few days later and was, I think, looking forward to it as he would be meeting up with a few old farming contemporaries he had not seen for a while. We were due to have a bit of a knees up that weekend for a sisters 40th and it was on the same day as the funeral. "Let me know what you want from the butchers for the party, but you might have to start without me if I end up having a pint with some of these lads."
We did indeed have to start without him because he went home, got his dog, set off for a walk, stopped for a chat at approx 4pm, about 30 minutes later collapsed and died. Just like that.

And now a year later we still can't believe he has gone. It has left a big hole in our lives. He loved life and he loved people. He liked to know a persons story and he had a great knack for finding it out without appearing to be nosey, (which he was,very...)

He had three great loves in his life, farming, faith and family. Or as he termed it, cows,church and children.
Here are a few of the things he liked/enjoyed.......

thick slices of good bacon,
boxing...particularly Cassius Clay,
haggling over a price.....anywhere,
Kate Winslet,
snoozing after lunch,
a broadsheet newspaper... but not paying for it,
strong, thick, well defined eyebrows on women,
soccer,
gossiping,
Mario Lanza singing The Rose of Picardy,
guiness original in bottles,
political biographies,
shapely legs,
silver birch trees,
Lancashire dialect.

So in his words again, "put the cat out, shut the door, pull the curtains, it's goodnight Vienna."

Goodnight, God bless Erk the stirk.
I hope that I, too, die on a sunny day when I've had bacon and eggs for me breakfast!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Feast of St Blaise

Today is the feast of St. Blaise, a 4th century Armenian ( I think) bishop and martyr for his faith.

He is the patron of afflictions of the throat and my father, being afflicted with sore throats, promptly named one of my brothers Blaise!

If you attend Holy Mass in a catholic church today you should be given the blessing of St Blaise by the priest with crossed candles held at your throat. I went, and was duly blessed.

I am rather proud of my brother Blaise. He is a very successful dairy farmer with an award winning herd of  Ayrshire cows....

...this is Sandyford Clover.

Our dad who died suddenly almost a year ago (more about him next week I hope)  and a farmer too, was so proud of him as are we, his six siblings.

Happy feast day Blaise.

Stock Judging

Went to my brothers farm today as he was hosting his local Ayrshire Breeders Club in a stock judging event.

Basically, the farmer presents two or three classes of six cows/heifers and a guest master judge places them in order of merit. Everybody else judges them and those closest to the master judges placings win. There are mens, womens and junior categories.

Here is Sandyford Clover who was the breed champion at Cheshire Show last week.

These are some of  the views they enjoy from their home...

As children, we eagerly looked forward to stock judging events. They were usually held in the summer on four consecutive Friday evenings. It was a chance to try and win a few shillings and best of all there was always a reet good spread afterwards!

It was nostalgic for me today because it must be at least thirty years since I last had a go at stock judging. And yes there was a reet good spread. But best of all, I came joint first in the ladies judging!!! I was astounded, just going to show what a great stockman my father was and he taught us well.