We made a start to the breeding sales this week.

Between now and November the farm goes from its most heavily stocked (now) to carrying the lightest number of mouths possible, in time for the hungry months.

It’s the nature of the job, but sheep farming really is a feast or a famine. At this time of year we prosper, it’s our “harvest.”

Every week there is discussion after discussion about what batch of sheep will go to which sale, reaping the annual income within the next three months. After that, all we can do is try and budget the best we can and wait until next September when the cycle starts again.

I think it’s a hard concept to grasp to the outside eye. To be honest, it’s a hard concept to grasp no matter where your standing!

There are plenty of days a nine-to-five job with a guaranteed income seem inviting. Nothing is guaranteed within this industry.

There are so many variable factors with every decision being a gamble. Is this the right sale? Have we sold those sheep for enough? Will the trade hold up for next week?

There are no right answers, but I do know that leading the life we do, working outdoors with sheep and dogs all day everyday makes it more than worth the stress.

We sold two pens of mule gimmers in Plumbridge Market on Tuesday night to kick us off. The boss and I spent Sunday dressing and colouring them. It paid off because they made a decent trade which we were all pleased with.

Chipped

Personally, I think they sold so well because their heads were so well clipped (my job) but I’m not sure the boss would agree.

This week, I write whilst sailing home to compete in the Scottish National Sheepdog Trial. A pod of dolphins have just swum by the boat which helped to take my mind off the ever-looming nerves.

For now, all I can do is tune into the livestream of day one and hope the sheep become slightly easier at the pen in time for my first run tomorrow morning. So far they are looking tricky…