Diary: April 23

Continued 3/3.

8th

We went to check on and count the sheep at both grass keeps and found the Dorset ewe distressed. We're worming via oral squirt and spraying the sheep for other parasite manifestations, some of their toenails are beginning to appear long. Watching Charlie handle these sheep is reminding how much of a dirty job livestock farming is; if you dislike faecal matter, as I do, then this job is definitely not for you.

Charlie bought a new pair of sheers to cut the matted wool from around the ewes bottoms. He laid out chaff but having been on a diet of fresh grass they were not all that interested in this bait. After sheering, worming and spraying one lamb we left; Charlie said this job is to be done incrementally as I was wondering about the field, unsuccessful attempting to spray them with insecticide.

In the evening we went for a calming hillside walk, along a panoramic view of Borthwick water. Charlie expressed his dislike for "long walks" and I thought of how much I'd of walked over the years, if I had not been trigger pushed by psychosomatic symptoms bought on by trauma induced extremities of generalised anxiety. When completely dissociated you just walk on, as if nothing mattered, because there's nothing to anchor onto, subordinated to contempt of silence.

We played computer games, a two player crazy golf game on Linux. Some of the levels were impossible, getting us cancelled by par. Charlie won a couple of holes, but eighteen holes, I was the victor. I am really appreciating this open warm fire at the farmhouse, in contrast to paints in my bones and joints, inflicted by years of living and sleeping outside unto the extremities of cold weather; dispossessed from the meaning of your life, as a hapless zombie.

7th

This evening I went to the farmhouse for the weekend, arriving I took the farmhouse dog out for a walk and paused for a moment to take a picture of tonights sunset.

I walked about two miles, first up hill then downhill, arriving back to the warm glow of a chimney smoking farmhouse at dusk. Thankfully the dog didn't abscond.

6th

I am begining to believe that Charlie has alcoholic sheep, they get really grumpy for chaff that smells of sherry.

5th

Edited so many lines of html code, and reorganised directory structure of this here my website.

Not much happened today, just inside my flat, very isolated; I have lived here almost four months yet still have no friends.

4th

It's cold this morning, ice upon the ground split from water butt, but water is flowing from the outside tap; remembering how impossible this was just a few weeks back. Today we are transporting lambs and ewes to grass keep.

It's something to see these sheep recognise each other, running into their flock reunion.

Before we were anilated and marginalised by critical theory our people were a flock, as a whole I call this the embodiment, or the soul of our people. Our body is a collection of organisms, and as a identifable people we are also of one. Watching detachment of the flock is a horrid sight, most stressed if a sheep is isolated alone, I've heard the cries and screams of inconsolable detachment, have you?

3rd

Charlie called around in the afternoon and drove me to Galalaw view point.

The scenic views were colourful and vibrant, I could not figure why I had not camped here during my travels.

I am up late, updating my blog, the flat is quiet, but my mind is disturbed; if I try and focus on the moment my concept of reason strays. I used to mediate so much, sitting, standing, walking; but now attaining a prolong state of being inbetween the moment escapes me. It's just past 1am, I am tired but planning on updating this page with 1st and 2nd dates before I retire to bed.

2nd

Today I woke late, about 10am, I was awake till 3am, updating my account on Twitter. This afternoon, Charlie took me to the farmhouse, he has fixed his trailer to taxi sheep to the new grass keep near Selkirk. Four ewes, each with two lambs were the first to be loaded.

The new grass keep has a sheep run, and a lovely view of the Eildon hills, I checked the manger to see if there was water for the arrival of the ewes and lambs.

Observing the love betweeen a ewe and her lamb is sweetening.

But lambs, as their ewes by law are required to have their ears pierced with identity tags before they go onto grass keep.

The Scottish Borders views along the highs of the Ashkirk road are outstanding.

We returned to the farmhouse to discover a lamb to have poorly eyes, so we gave her an injection of anti-biotics.

The breed suffer from in turned eye lashes, other breeds such as the Zwartbles often get bad feet.

It's warming to see the glow of light through the farm house windows, as deepening as the bright blue of the Borders night sky may be.

1st

Charlie handed me a tin of red paint for marking the sheep. I joked with him about marking the sheep with six pointed stars and swastikas, among other shapes. I marked the cade lambs, but later noticed the Ewe with the bad bag had also become marked, where she had bunted the cades away from her, speading the paint among the cades until they were all pink, what a mess.

Later in the morning we drove to Newton Saint Boswells, along the way, approaching Denholm we passed by a monument marking the boyhood life of a Scottish indologist named John Leyden, an enthusiastic lover of old ballads and folklore.

Charlie took me to a garden centre restaurant for lunch, we enjoyed fish and chips and a deluxe hot chocolate. I was hoping to find some plants and trees for my balcony, maybe something for indoors but only purchased a scented candle, Charlie purchased a drinks mat, to remind me of our visit. Returning to Hawick we collected some logs, take a look at this grain on this wood.

Early evening, Charlie was cooked a Geordie sausage casserole that my mother cooked me when I was a child; my mothers relatives also used to send us sottie cakes every year. My mother died in 2014, her ashes were scattered by the Marsdon Rock; regretfully I mislayed the event due to poor mental health.

For almost a month there has been a monopoly game waiting to be played underneath my coffee table; but we're either too tired or don't feel like playing it and monopoly is not a game you can play alone. The evening meal zonked me out, I slept heavy late evening, rousing from slumber only to clamber into bed from the living room sofa.