Those of you who know me will maybe think, fair dues, you could! Well, at least stand a fighting chance with enough pent up frustration and my forever need to get the job done well, and those who know me very well will be thinking, wait a minute you are scared of cows!!

Firstly, my profound apologies to those of you who have stood by patiently while I have searched my office and then home for the password to my blog. Having made a decent start to my project I then proceeded to loose the necessary password to continue and I am touched by the many who have contacted me to enquire about the blogs whereabouts. Three cheers for lady who came across my scribblings and has, in a short while, learned to throw nothing away as all is vital to someone, somewhere. Needless to say I have loads to tell you and have made notes of any important events or just the daily turn of time and shall endeavor to 'catch up'.

Anyway, back to the crushed cow-during the past months we have added some beautiful Devon Ruby Reds and some stunning black Dexter cows to Hope Farm. This played on my mind considerably since I have always been nervous of anything larger than me and only a couple of years ago was trumatised when answering a call of nature was decended upon by a considerable herd that seemed to be chasing me! Only after leaping, yes leaping, into a thick thorn hedge and they had ran past did I stop shaking and resolved to never own such animals. My friends in Essex roared with mirth as I recounted this image and even bought me various 'cow' teapots etc as a leaving present.

Fast forward to living in Devon and our passion to farm with tradition whilst embracing the area to which we have moved and the need for Rubies is up for discussion. We have won an award from Devon Wildlife Trusts (more of that later) and partly this involved grazing our culm grass the Devon way. The wonderful thing about reaching a certain age is that you can feel free to push your boundaries and take on new challenges...are you thinking 'carless talk costs lives?'...I wouldnt blame you, but the long and short of it is that we are the very proud owners of a little herd. It has taken me a while to be confident amongst them, the valuable help of an experienced neighbour has been beyound words. I can now lead them from field to field with the promise of a bucket of food without sweating too much. I know they know me, which is delightful and when last week I looked out of our landing window and squinted, I knew for certain a calf had arrived. ( A while ago with eye sight moving towards short sightedness I thought a rust coloured plant was a calf-another story) I dashed outside with emotion rising and relieved looked towards mum with a view to watching for the afterbirth when I realised that what had appeared was another foot!! Panic set in, I was alone on the farm and thought, Why?? A tot up told me they were a couple of weeks early and although my experience has increased to an amazing level with my alpacas, cows are another dimension. When in doubt, ring the neighbour, she was brilliant and arrived toot sweet to tell me that all was well and mum and twin girls were doing fine.

So a week on and the poor mum needed some help with passing all the necessary membranes-hence the crush...never mind the long awaited many times resceduled hair appointment, who cares that I now resemble my gran, certainly not my animals! Not only did I get the girl into the correct place at the correct time, no mean feat in case you are wondering, I got her into the 'crush' without fuss nor fear. I am being self-indulgent here, because I guess only I know the extent of my fear....a good case of 'feel the fear and do it anyway!' A perfect red letter day for us as we can tick off another job jobbed and excuse ourselves for being fifty something and daring to leap into another world.

Again, apologies for incorrect gramma and spellings that refuse to behave. I have missed logging my thoughts and sharing our world with you. Plenty of people have passed through Hope Farm, each with their own need and criteria to meet. The letters and emails have touched me to the core, only yesterday a very poorly lady remarked that Hope Farm should be on the NHS which made me smile, she made it to see our girls and was uplifted by their charm and grace. Walkers, B&B guests and educational visits have made our year a remarkable one. I promise to keep this updated in case you cannot make the journey but would love to share our news.

Goodbye for now, Tony is getting hay in, at last, who would have thought it could be so late in coming. Better late than never. He says he has never worked so hard, ever, I suppose I should feed him... Take care, I shall write soon about the Kings, Damsons and Dragons that live by the pond...

The first time the baby robin flew into the kitchen we held our breath in case it came to harm. It kind of 'plopped' onto the kitchen table and then perched on a chair whilst we looked around us from left to right in the hope that something would materialise suitable to catch the youngster. No worries, it didnt flinch as cupped hands approached and was swiftly transported to the outside world from whence it came. We chuckled at this inexperience and thought that would be the only visit! I was relieved that I had played no direct part in this removal as I am a happy observer of all things that fly and flap, definately not a hands on person.

The second time, a while later when it, (I say it because unlike other species, for once the female does not take a back seat on plumage and both male and female display the red feathers on their breasts), was found perched on the leather sofa in the drawing room. Still on the small side but jolly big on the cheek! Tony, my partner, was mowing the lawn, and it was one of those rare second take moments. Apparantly he saw it watching him from the inside and thought, 'Ahhh, that sweet little robin is in the house again and it wasnt until he had completed a circle of the lawn that he thought, 'Ahhh, that sweet little robin is in the house AGAIN!' Its quite funny to watch a grown man battle with a swifter, flying opponet, windows and doors open at the ready, this little character took its time to leave and via the way it had entered, along the hall and out through the kitchen. Since then we have 'caught' the robin again in the hall and about to enter/leave the kitchen on numerous times. We worry it is looking for a suitable place to nest next year and having checked us out, made its decision...we'll see.

Its not very often that I am the last to go to sleep...I catch myself wistfully looking at the clock around four p.m. sometimes and longing for it to say ten p.m. Since moving here my brain seems to have developed a sinister habit of snapping into the 'on' position in the early hours and bombarding my mind with 'things to do' and 'things not to forget' with such urgency that sleep is then totally beyond my reach. A latter surge of energy is my only excuse for not falling into a deep sleep at my usual time one night last week. Therefore it was I who spied the unusually large dark coloured moth that swooped and lifted at an alarming rate across the bedroom. For a moment I watched, unable to catch him in my sights and always just behind him until the penny dropped and I realised this was no moth. Tonys last words to me had been, ' I am shattered, I have to sleep, Goodnight' He had fallen asleep instantly and now I was going to wake him instantly....

Our late night visitor was a Pipistrell bat, one of 17 species in the uk. These little fellows can live up to 16 years and devour up to 3,000 insects or flies in a night. I have read that these Pipistrell bats have declined in numbers, probably as a result of modern agricultural practises. Of course, at Hope Farm, everything is turned around in order to help preserve these brilliant creatures, which incidentally do not stick in your hair. If you choose to walk in the woods at dusk you can witness them in their colonies perfectly safely, normally they do not venture inside and this little one was probably just old enough, around six weeks old, to leave his mothers milk and catch his own insects. That said, you may remember anything that flies or flaps is not my usual territory and therefore the only thing to do was to provide the childs fishing net suitable for catching our Pipistrell. I'm not sure that a deeply sleeping partner is ideal for grasping the principle of fishing net-bat-bedroom-use, but I can guarantee you that laughter is the best medicine for certain ills as following a naked chase between the bat, a man and a net, I slept like a baby. All we needed was the robin!

HOPE: a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen, grounds for believing that something good may happen.

The definition of the word hope. Words mean a lot to me, why use one when you can use many? I used to drive my children mad at meal times by having a dictionary on the table and asking them to look up words they didnt understand the meaning of. Mind you, I have never perfected spellings and I apologise now for any spelling or grammer mistakes that may follow! As my old english teacher used to say, Ah Lindsey, so much written and no time for spellings.


And so to the Alpacas of Hope Farm....(a glance out of the window confirms that they are mostly sunning their bellies in the heat of the day, just a few feet from where I am writing). These beautiful, gentle animals that have captured our hearts. We didnt know just what we intended to farm here at Hope. As the new kids on the block we could only answer the enquiries from our fabulous neighbours as to our intentions with a knowing, 'something will happen'. Probably sounded extremely potty at the time, but I feel just a few months on that they are starting to know us sufficiently well to realise that 'something' would-and did!

We took ages to find our first breeding girls, my fault really, I wanted as many natural colours in order to be able to wear an assortment of clothes from them next year. I dont know if you have ever seen or worn Alpaca clothing, its wonderful! And the natural colours are fantastic, 22 in all. Alpacas live up to 20 years and so we wanted relatively young ones to care for, for the rest of their lives. They have such individual personalities, I have 'lost' so many hours just watching them.

Anyway, the first girl was due to calf mid April and so began a frenzy to put up post and rail (no wire for my girls) before their arrival. I have the photographic proof of us, ankle deep in mud, the heavens peering open to get a better shot at us, whilst we hammered and held. It has only just occurred to us that we put up enough post and rail to house 300 alpacas! Oh well, think big! The big day was looming and we were so excited when we had a call to say that the cria (young) due mid April had arrived almost a month early...did we still want them? Immediate answer, 'Yes', second, 'but not yet!'

We waited ten days for our arrivals, we were on tender hooks in case the little lad didnt make it. We were determined he would and although really worried about our lack of experience, knew we would give him every chance to live a happy, positive life here with us. The horse box arrived, the door opened and we had our first sight of the girls and this tiny, tiny cria. He had what can only be described as a workmans jacket, of the flourescent, padded kind and far too large for him, over his little body. His eyes filled his head and his legs were like pipe cleaners...there was only one name for this giant of Hope, and that was 'Hercules'. A name to grow into!

That was four months ago. He has had problems, there has been times when we have thought he was lost to us, but this little cria has survived and grown the most fantastic fleece! His name has been shortened to Herkie and as he has been handled so many times has become very, very tame. His first proper fleece that will be shorn next year we are intending to do something special with and have it spun to make hats and booties for premature babies. This years fleece that we had to have removed during one of his poorly moments is at Hope Farm and can be felt and seen. Its remarkable!

So, whats in a name? Just about everything I guess. We wish him continued health and the ability to go from strength to strength just as his namesake did.

Welcome to Hope Farm Blog, this is a true red letter day for me, as not only will this show I have mastered a very basic level of technical know-how, it means I am truly living my 'adventure' and this is readable proof.

There comes a time in every girls life when she has to hang up her dancing shoes and take stock of her life. I personally put that off for as long as I could, swerving through the years trying to avoid the body blows of life, existing for everyone elses purpose and feeling thoroughly terrified that what I had achieved was in fact-it!

Now I know, to have been blessed with three of the most cherished young people on earth to mother, is reward in itself. But no-one told me how it would feel to loosen those reins and experience them moving on with their own package of life. I realised that I had an awful feeling starting to grow in my stomach, one I eventually realised as fear and regret. It seems somehow, not politically correct to even own those feelings, but one thing you will begin to realise as you journey with me, is my honestly. Sometimes funny, sometimes painful but always following my mantra: 'The truth we can deal with'.

So, enough about me, I guess you grasp the idea that I had to have an adventure, to feel as if my time here has been worthwhile and my mind started to wonder about my own personal world. In fact, our world ,and how I could in some small way truly help to make a difference to the environment and create a space that people could visit to share the natural beauty and tranquility it eludes. And so, around March of last year the hunt began, and that hunt took me to a place in West Devon. It took me to Hope Farm.

From the first credit card size picture that my dilligent land estate agent had sent me, I was mesmerised. He, bless him, had asked me the question, 'What exactly is it that you are looking for?' after I had rejected farm after farm from his books. My answer, 'Something heart stopping with an abundance of natural light and style, pretty fields with a stream running around them, with woods close to the house and views, it must have views'. I still chuckle about this conversation because he said with so much flourish and satisfaction, 'Madam, I have somewhere that fits your needs perfectly' True to his word and professionalisim, he had!

Of course, its a year on now and I have climbed so many personal mountains. Hopefully, you will agree from the website that Hope Farm is indeed, exactly that what I wished for. Between us, my partner and I have worked harder than either of us have ever done before, we retire to bed absolutely exhausted but thirsty for the next days events. As I type, he is out in the fields 'doing the hay'...he insists on using only very old machinery, some of which he has had from new and with which he has forged long standing relationships. So, as you can imagine, as with all relationships of the heart, there are days when they all perform well and he can see his bounty being gathered..and days when they 'dont speak'!

Between us we shall print as many pictures as we can to give vision to everything we do. I shall have to ask you for your patience again whilst the hay season is upon us, as soon as possible I shall present many scenes to accompany the blog. We are working very closely with Devon Wildlife Trust with regard to management of the culm grass areas and to learn the very best way to protect and encourage the rare species that live here. My very favourite time is to walk the boundary of the farm which has been made into a wildlife nature trail. We often see red and roe deer, in fact, we have a roe deer and her two offspring living in the woods behind the house. It is fascinating to sit still and quiet when my partner is mowing the woodland paths on his red mower, (the thought 'Noddy' springs to mind!) and see her dodge his progress with her youngsters in tow. We have put up styles and bridges in order to make this walk enjoyable. You just have to enter 'the scary swamp' and experience its presence. Its a wet woodland really, but the trees with their mossed branches growing out of the wetland made it essential to have this name. There are badger sets, probably no longer in use, but evident in the deep banks that heave with seasonable plants and spreading trees that shade this glade. Many species of butterflies and dragonflies live here and can be seen darting in and out of the sunlight.

Today is really just an introduction, there is so much to share with you and as the other thing I am known for is my ability to chat...well, you can imagine. I could write all day, but then my adored alpacas would be neglected and that would never do! Alpacas? Oh yes, there is much to tell you about the Hope Farm Alpacas, but that is another story for another day. So I am signing off now, will write again soon, until then, think how you can take your own walk on the wild side. Maybe put up some bird feeders or start a log of the animals that visit your part of this world.


Lindsey