Margaret came to volunteer at Fordhall Farm for a week earlier in the year. She is from New Zealand and read about Fordhall in Country Living. This is an extract from her account of her time at the farm…
“Woah! I could handle my brother tripping me up anytime, but by a few dozen sturdy sheep while I’ve got a sack of corn on my shoulders? That was trouble.
Now, hold the sack up, rip the string, and put the feed evenly in the three troughs. No problemo! It’s just my arms couldn’t seem to hold the sack up after the marathon walk to get there, and I swear there was a knot in the string… I wondered if I put it down, whether it would be easier. That was double trouble.
The pregnant sheep were at it like a swarm of bees, I got separated from the corn, and the next thing I knew, one of the blighters had snaggled it’s way between my legs and I was being carried off into the sunrise! Only I didn’t get that far. When I fell off I was surrounded by dinky hooves, a moving maze of wool, and the frustrated baa’s of hungry mother-to-be sheep.”I thought I’d lost ya there for a minute!” Ben grinned after the job was complete. It had taken a month and a half for the bullocks to get me down in the mud in Cornwall, this was the first job on the first day in Shropshire!
Welcome to Fordhall Farm.”