The Fog Returns

Fog has returned to the fields of Septford, reinforcing the air of sameness as the low winter sun's rays are diffused over pigs and sheep alike.

The fog has a metaphorical as well as a meteorological meaning, reflecting the thinking of the farming council. Managers appear to be moved randomly from one barn to another, while farm workers are ushered like the livestock they tend into one of two lanes - the one-way trip to market being the worst outcome.

And while on the subject of foggy thinking, I saw a sign on one of my rare visits to the local large barn which advised workers to speak slowly and use hand gestures to help people understand them. I thought this was to help us communicate better with the village council and other farm managers. Not so. It was to improve communication with our customers with impaired mental functioning.

Can you guess what this hand gesture means?

Harvest Time

We have been working late in the evenings and even at the weekends to bring in the harvest this year. And what a harvest it has been! We have broken all past records and have received accolades from far and wide, even from beyond the permeable boundaries of our mega-farm. This is despite the unusually wet summer and strong winds and financial pressures we have had this year, factors which have clearly adversely affected other farms. We also have a milk lake so vast and pure that the gods weep at the beauty of it. Data flows bounteously from the various herds spread across the endless fields of Septford. How can this be? Consider...

Late summer evenings give us beautiful ever-changing skies, and it is lovely to see the birds perform their evening displays against these canvasses. On our farm, flocks of Stalins engage in eidectic displays above white lakes. The swans are not only mute, they are invisible.