It all happened before this dreary harvest started and my plan was to feed my cows every morning while listening to true crime podcasts - that is me in my element.
Some people go the gym, others go on walks or for spa days (well, I would like the last option if only I ever had the time or money) but all I want to be is left alone to feed my cows while listening to tales of brutal murders - that is my ‘zen', as they say. I planned to spend my afternoons plodding about clearing barns ready for harvest; all very quiet and easy.
Fast-forward to the week after my dad's operation: the contractors decided to come along and concrete the entire yard, which meant I was trying to feed the 350 cows still in the yard, and that equalled chaos.
I had my dad in the house telling me half of his plan on how it is going to be laid and how to work around it, and the contractors telling me half of a completely different plan that they had concocted.
To add to this, my builder was finally doing the finishing touches to my house, meaning I have all manner of construction people on the farm to deal with. And then, just sprinkle it into the mix, there were some very sexist wagon drivers and reps.
Dealing with all these male egos had me spiralling into what only women would understand as female rage.
I would advise any man with a misogynistic tendency not to test a women who has an obsession with true crime and also has vast experience in castration. Non-livestock farmers may need to Google 'Burdizzo'.
Thankfully, I have made it through the past eight weeks without having lost my temper at anyone, which, as a redhead, has been very difficult.
Dad is nearly back to full capacity now, and we have started this snatch and grab harvest. The yard is slowly getting concreted, and I have moved into my first house, moving everything over in the cattle trailer which I washed out specially. So, overall, I would say it has been a success.
