After chemo Tim likes to take my mind off the hard day at the hospital. He collected me in the car and we dropped off prescriptions to the pharmacy. He had his plan: “I must run down to see James ploughing in the high field, are you OK to come?” The debilitating effects of chemotherapy don’t usually hit until day three, so I answered: “Yes, I am”. Anything to stay normal. James was ploughing for reseeding.

We like to keep on top of reseeding some of the farm each year to keep the grass and clover young and of top-quality feeding. When the drought hit this year and the grass stopped growing, Tim decided against reseeding, as we would need every blade of grass when the rain came and growth returned.

However, he noticed that the dock leaves with their long tap roots continued to grow during the drought. The well field and high field were earmarked for re-seeding, because the grass was poor and there was a substantial amount of docks in them.

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Another key thing he spotted was that the clover in the other fields with docks was dormant and would be safe from weed spray. The docks were at the perfect stage to kill – the rosette stage. Grass growth was very strong, so the plan to reseed was back on the table.

A phone call was made to Florence Geaney to spray the docks with Dockstar. He came the next day. Meanwhile, another call was made to Smiths contractors to organise the spreading of dung, ploughing and setting of the crop. Another call was made to my son-in-law, David Helen, to order lime to spread before sowing the crop. There is so much organising to be done for a job like that. In fairness, contractors understand the urgency of using the window of opportunity to get the job done. I’m sure they get satisfaction out of it too, when it all works out.

The plough lifted occasionally when it met a stone. The soil was in perfect condition and reminded me of the National Ploughing Championships that I was unable to attend

Down we went along the farm roadway. A buzzard lifted off from the wood and flew out over the car, as if to say ‘why are you encroaching on my territory?’ Tim and I chatted about our latest bird sightings. He had seen grey wagtails, which are, in fact, yellow and brown and I’d seen two happy yellowhammers on the drive. Turning the corner by the sunnyside field, it was spectacularly lush with grass and red and white clover.

On the other side, a flock of linnets flew along the hedgerow, that was still laden with unpicked blackberries. At the end of the farm roadway, we paused under the chestnut tree, covered in bursting chestnuts. That’s something that Tim or I will definitely collect with Ricky. When we entered the field, James was ploughing away with a 250 horse power John Deere tractor, well weighted down in front, and with a six furrow Kverneland reversible plough.

Ploughing ahead

The machines are in pristine condition. That’s why we use contractors. It’s a difficult, steep field and James was handling it well. The sod was turning beautifully. The plough lifted occasionally when it met a stone. The soil was in perfect condition and reminded me of the National Ploughing Championships that I was unable to attend. The walking and the long day would have been too much. It made me nostalgic for other times. Still, the coverage from the Irish Farmers Journal, RTÉ and radio stations was wonderful, and I could imagine it perfectly, getting the breakfast roll in the morning and enjoying the steak in the Bord Bia kitchen for lunch. Meeting so many people on the stands and out walking is always a joy.

Next year, maybe.