Tim was away for the day. His discussion group were off to Teagasc’s Solohead Research Farm to hone their skills. I love a day when Tim is away for two reasons: it is a chance for me to get a run at jobs, and it’s a much-needed break for Tim. The discussion group is the ideal stimulus for debate. I had breakfast with my daughter Julie and my grandson Ricky and told Julie of my plans. I would start upstairs and clean the whole house. That entailed lots of washing. There were loads of other chores listed in the plan. Julie asked: “How long is the day, Mum? You won’t be finished until midnight!” I dragged the vacuum cleaner upstairs; armed with the carrying tray for my dusting and cleaning stuff. I went from room to room with gusto, gathering dirty clothes. Then it was back downstairs to put on a washing.

Back upstairs, I found the jeans that Tim had taken off. I removed his pen knife, several screws, a small bolt, a fuse for a plug, some coins and receipts

Back up to clean the bathroom and landing; back down to hang out the washing. It was time to put on the real hot wash for jeans splashed with cow dung. The washing machine was half full. It could take at least one more pair of jeans. Back upstairs, I found the jeans that Tim had taken off. I removed his pen knife, several screws, a small bolt, a fuse for a plug, some coins and receipts. I lay them on the bed. I twisted the pants around not wanting to miss something that might do damage to my machine. Satisfied, I put the hot wash in motion. I went on with my business.

On seeing the washing machine; I dropped to my knees in horror and buried my head in my hands; letting out some strange sounds

My day was shot

Forty minutes later, my son Colm came in as I went into the back kitchen. On seeing the washing machine; I dropped to my knees in horror and buried my head in my hands; letting out some strange sounds. Colm asked what was wrong. I pointed to the washing machine window that had a white, rectangular plastic notebook plastered to it. Blue lettering confirmed my anguish! Herd Plus Dairy Pocket Notebook, Year 2020, ICBF.com How could I? How did I miss it? Tim’s little white book that he consults, writes in and calls out of several times every day!

I eventually got the machine to open. The white plastic cover was devoid of its insides! I almost wept. I fished for the rest

He never goes to the farm without it. Colm said: “Maybe it will be OK?” Clearly, he doesn’t know much about washing machines and wash cycles that can shift cow dung! I stopped the machine. It wouldn’t open – child lock! I wondered aloud if I should break the glass. Colm lectured, “Mom, all the information is online! Do not spend any money saving it!” I eventually got the machine to open. The white plastic cover was devoid of its insides! I almost wept. I fished for the rest. The pages were a soggy mess. My day was shot, the cleaning forgotten. I was so cross with myself.

ICBF web application

I felt dreadful, but at least everything was online except for Tim’s little notes to himself. A few evenings previously, I had gone for the cows with Tim. I have a favourite cow numbered 1213. She is a creamy orange Jersey cross and a bit of a pet, since my son Philip used to sneak her meal in a bucket at the top of the parlour when she was a heifer. She weighs 450kg and Tim was asking me how much milk she was going to produce. The rule of thumb is their own weight in milk solids. This girl is predicted to do 550kg. “Imagine having a herd of them!” said Tim.

It’s on all our phones and an absolute gem to have to hand

I asked if she had any daughters; remembering lots of bulls. He called up the ICBF web application on his phone. It’s on all our phones and an absolute gem to have to hand. 1213 has only one heifer; 1920 and she iswith the heifer rearer, Billy O’Shea, in Kildare. Remembering this chat, I felt a bit better.

Tim came home. He’d had a good day. The remains of his book was on the kitchen table. To be fair to him, he didn’t say a word – only laughed at my distress and said: “Sure it’s all online!” But he did add a caveat. “It has its work done for this year! Now, if it was earlier in the year, it would be a different story!” So girls, the moral of the story is check those pockets and then check them again. Thank God for a patient husband.