It wasn’t until I spoke to Dad on the phone last night that it dawned on me that this would be my first August ever not filled with the distant rumbles of combines working late into the night.
Perthshire, where I was born and bred, has a large proportion of arable and tillage ground.
At this time of year, it’s an unspoken rule to allow an extra 10 minutes travelling time for all journeys to accommodate the highly probable chance that you will be stuck behind either a combine and/or tractor and trailer carting grain.
Growing crops isn’t something that’s ever sparked an interest for me.
My Dad is managing director for Scottish Agronomy and eats, sleeps and breathes everything arable farming. I swear, ask that man about diseases likely to occur in any cereal crop and you will see his eyes light up.
Dad and I are immensely close and very similar to boot. Here, I probably identify our biggest character difference. He has zero interest in my sheep and I have very limited interest in his crops. We make it work all the same.
Same goal
It’s funny how farming works. So many different sectors within the industry accommodating a whole host of different passions and aspirations and yet everyone working within it is united by the same goal: to feed the planet.
Our shearlings are enjoying the summer months in Tyrone, harvest or not.
Having said all of the above, I’m very much enjoying the open roads and unaltered travelling times in my new home. You’d have to go a few miles to find a combine working here.
Rushes don’t tend to make for the most lucrative harvest, but, nonetheless, the ewes seem to thrive off them just fine and as much as Dad will never be able to find this exciting, I certainly do.
It wasn’t until I spoke to Dad on the phone last night that it dawned on me that this would be my first August ever not filled with the distant rumbles of combines working late into the night.
Perthshire, where I was born and bred, has a large proportion of arable and tillage ground.
At this time of year, it’s an unspoken rule to allow an extra 10 minutes travelling time for all journeys to accommodate the highly probable chance that you will be stuck behind either a combine and/or tractor and trailer carting grain.
Growing crops isn’t something that’s ever sparked an interest for me.
My Dad is managing director for Scottish Agronomy and eats, sleeps and breathes everything arable farming. I swear, ask that man about diseases likely to occur in any cereal crop and you will see his eyes light up.
Dad and I are immensely close and very similar to boot. Here, I probably identify our biggest character difference. He has zero interest in my sheep and I have very limited interest in his crops. We make it work all the same.
Same goal
It’s funny how farming works. So many different sectors within the industry accommodating a whole host of different passions and aspirations and yet everyone working within it is united by the same goal: to feed the planet.
Our shearlings are enjoying the summer months in Tyrone, harvest or not.
Having said all of the above, I’m very much enjoying the open roads and unaltered travelling times in my new home. You’d have to go a few miles to find a combine working here.
Rushes don’t tend to make for the most lucrative harvest, but, nonetheless, the ewes seem to thrive off them just fine and as much as Dad will never be able to find this exciting, I certainly do.
SHARING OPTIONS