After a month of ups and downs we are set to begin the new season in style. More new faces have arrived at Stoneywish, including eight lambs to date - a lovely motley gang - black ones, white ones and cream-and-tan, so far. The sheep are now grazing the bottom meadow and at dusk the lambs take off on their own, playing tag round the stone circle. With the warmer weather here, it is hard to recall that the first of
the flock were born in snow and had to be carried to shelter. Just a few days of sunshine have convinced us that spring has arrived. There are sweet violets and primroses dotted amongst the budding narcissi. The blackbirds are singing. Last week, two saddleback piglets moved into the pen beside the pot-belly pigs, and a handsome bronze turkey has taken up residence next door to the goats, so, with Pebbles the pony now settled in her own little paddock, the Smallholding is feeling quite populous!
Other news. A short while ago frustration reached boiling point on the Black Swan pond, with the cob and his mate, so desperate to begin their breeding and so resenting the presence of the second female, 
they became quite vicious towards her, and refused her access to the water. I would stand over her as she tried to feed, fending the aggressors off with a twig. 
But twice the attacks resulted in injury and we began planning how to catch and move her to safety before something terrible happened. The other ponds here are less secure. Some dry up regularly, or are exposed footpaths where dogs can roam. Being unpinioned, with both her beautiful white-tipped wings intact, she would be frowned upon at a bird sanctuary... During these days, she came to recognise me as her guardian and would greet me on my arrival with high-pitched welcome calls. But then one morning, just as my concerns were at their height, she disappeared. I hunted, called, scanned every bank and bush, fearful I should find her drowned or beheaded by the fox. No sign anywhere. We began to search wider afield in case she had somehow navigated the ditch and got out into the field. Again nothing. Then we opened the big gate into the Reserve. And there, in the wood, we found her - still limping - but free. She had somehow broken through two fences, but to this day we cannot work out how. She must have thought she had arrived in heaven, seeing a huge empty pond before her, with a grassy bank to graze on - and me still bringing her supplies of corn and swan food! Of course nothing is ever perfect. The 'emptiness' was an illusion and as soon as she took to the water, she had to fend off hordes of hungry geese and carp who tried to steal her breakfast, but she quickly discovered that she was top boss on this pond and has so far managed to outwit the fox. If I call her, she will still answer me and our bond of trust seems to endure, which is an unhoped for delight. 
As for the old cob and his mate - they have wasted no time in getting down to business - she, sitting on a new-made nest on the island, and he patrolling the water round her, putting all the ducks in their place. Everyone happy for the moment!
But just in case we should get complacent, Fate brings a new drama. A few days later, Michael wakes up at 4 a.m. feeling groggy and, thinking he will make himself a cup of tea, slides out of bed, finds his slippers, and creeps along the landing. At the top of the stairs he blacks out and tumbles down two un-carpeted flights to the bottom. I am woken by the crash and the groan as his head hits the wall. He is unconscious, then delirious. Believing the worst, I call an ambulance and we spend the next 8 hours at A & E while they X-ray every bone in his body. Miraculously, they find he has survived the fall with little more than a cut to his brow, which they mend with glue, presumably thinking his head must be made of wood! We are sent home with a leaflet about concussion: rest, relax, keep warm, rest, and take it easy ... On arrival at the house, Michael reaches for his axe and announces that he thinks he will just chop some kindling for the fire! When I remonstrate, he says: 'Oh all right then, I'll just fetch some logs - it's not lifting - it's only carrying!' He is quite put out to be banned from farm work for 4 days, but Mike, his grandson, has stepped valiantly into the breach, taking care of the animals and daily chores like a true chip off the old block. Hearts of oak!!
No more for now. It's time for a cuppa! Matron says the invalid can resume his responsibilities today ...
