Back To The Farm

Returning to Pilsdon community after months away is like slipping on an old favourite pair of brogues that had got lost under the bed for a while, a comfortingly familiar fit after an initial wriggle to ease the contours of your feet in again. 

Wandering round the site to reacquaint myself I found the three calves in their pen, Cuckoo, Julian and Oscar, all of whom had been born since my last brief summer visit. Apparently Cuckoo, the eldest and largest, is prone to mounting anyone or anything that comes near her so great care is required never to turn your back when entering the pen to feed them or muck out.  There are eight weaners in the pig pen, still fairly young and boisterous and all with a pink band around their midriffs, their mother on a dirty holiday visiting a boar. 

Pilsdon's four ewes have been killed and eaten leaving more pasture for the cows next year (three beef cattle and three Jersey milkers). The youngest of the Jerseys, Dandelion, has only recently begun to be milked and has swiftly gained a reputation for being naughty as she kicks and jostles and generally tries to avoid milk being drawn from her tiny teats. Glancing in the duck enclosure I found it empty. The story is that one night no one shut them away in their duck house and some feline assassin, probably a cat, came and massacred them all without mercy. But the chickens all seem to be doing fine, at least. 

Pilsdon's lush garden is still producing raspberries, unbelievably

Various bits of the buildings and fencing have been fixed and improved, either by talented residents or paid contractors. The milk pasteurising room (grandly called “The Dairy”) is undergoing a complete overhaul so all the equipment has been temporarily shifted into one of the new rooms in the Loose Boxes, the recently completely re-built west side of the quad. The roof on the North Barn is being re-tiled, and its entrance renovated. The boiler room has seen massive changes with the huge temperamental wood-fired burner replaced with a spanking new pellet burner which is automatically fed from a huge climate-controlled external hopper, through which Pilsdon qualifies for the Renewable Heat Incentive that should pay for it all in just a few years.

One of the beef cattle looking menacing

Yet in all fundamental ways Pilsdon remains the same.  There have been a few changes in the community itself, some having moved on, others arriving and settling in, but the majority are still the same bunch who were here in my last visit in June, and it is great to see everyone again. The daily rhythm of life here carries on, of meals, of prayer, of work, of rest, of play, of sleep, of countless cups of tea. The garden still needs weeding (but not, thankfully, as much as last winter!), the cows milking, the meals cooking, the piano playing.  It is a profoundly restful place to abide despite, or perhaps because of, all the work that must be done to keep things rolling. Work that is tangible, meaningful - all of what is done serves either to put food on the table, keep ourselves clean and warm, or to maintain the stunningly beautiful environment we are lucky enough to be in. 

Well, that’s what I had to tell myself when I dragged my sorry self out of bed at 5:35am this morning for a rendezvous with the three Jersey girls.

Oscar, Julian and Cuckoo. Julian appears to be admiring one of his wall stains