Latest news with #lambing
The Guardian
6 days ago
- Climate
- The Guardian
Country diary: A week of relief for all on the farm
After five weeks without rain, it was wonderful to be woken one night last week by the sound of rain being blown on to the bedroom windows. We are well prepared for dry spells like the one this year. In 2022 we sank a borehole on the farm, after successive springs when the water supply dried up, so thankfully we now have water for the house and farm buildings even when there is little rain. The fields rely on natural water, though, and this year the becks ran dry during lambing time. Every morning, I filled the back of the Gator with buckets of water and drove them round the lambing fields. The sheep had to adapt their routine too, as usually they get most of the moisture they need from damp grass. Water is, of course, essential for them to make milk for the lambs, but yows also prefer to lamb during wet weather, often seeming to hold off for a wet morning to lamb. This is believed to be because they know there will be fewer predators around, particularly birds of prey, of which we have many. So lambing was prolonged this year as well as hot. On a wet morning, it was a relief to see that the last yow had lambed, and was happily cleaning her new lamb and murmuring to her. Once it is settled and knows her mother, we will clear the meadows, ready to grow hay (which should be ready to cut in July). Lambs will be marked with our red smit mark before walking two and a half miles over several days down to Low Park Farm, where they will spend the summer rotationally grazing small fields surrounded by woodland strips. Away from weather concerns, a massive relief to me was that a visitor attraction, Into the Wilds, that was proposed for the farm next to ours, was refused planning permission by the Yorkshire Dales national park authority. The plans initially included safari lodges, a ranger base and a variety of exotic animals including white rhinos, giraffes, zebras and lynxes. One of the reasons given was that it would cause 'significant visual harm to the iconic landscape'. I just hope they don't put in an appeal. Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian's Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at and get a 15% discount
Daily Mail
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Our Yorkshire Farm's Amanda Owen says 'time to finally explain myself' as she sets record straight on 'disgusting and disturbing' video that sparked fan backlash
Amanda Owen has set the record straight after 'disgusting and disturbing' video of her son Reuben sparked fan backlash on social media. At the start of May, the shepherdess, 50, shared a clip of her son Reuben, 21, laying on an ewe and lamb while helping her out on Ravenseat Farm in Swaledale, Yorkshire. The video received a number of negative comments in the comments section and Amanda has decided to speak out about the matter. Sharing a video of her milking an ewe, alongside some other snaps from lambing season, Amanda said: 'Here we go!!!! More disgusting and disturbing behaviour just for ewe. '*Obviously we haven't learnt anything, even after being slammed for the ill treatment of these woolly commodities* Time to finally explain myself. 'Amazingly enough it's been a busy couple of months, the physical birth element of lambing time is just a part of the picture.' From A-list scandals and red carpet mishaps to exclusive pictures and viral moments, subscribe to the DailyMail's new Showbiz newsletter to stay in the loop. The Our Yorkshire Farm star explained that after giving birth the animals can experience some issues. She continued: 'Post natal care is of utmost importance and consequently feeding issues can sometimes require a sheep to be caught in order to treat the issue. 'They are not particularly good patients but we treat them with care, compassion and as infrequently as possible. 'So far, after a lifetime of shepherding I have never had one willingly saunter over and request help with labour, breast feeding or any other minor ailment. 'Maybe it would be a lot easier to take care of them and handle them if they were all crammed into an industrial shed, not free to exercise and graze the meadows, moors & pastures????? 'But I reckon that we all know that being outside, free to wander and live naturally is a far better way for them. 'Incidentally the person most likely to be injured in the whole process of catching and restraining a sheep is me or even one of the sheepdogs.' Many rushed to the comments section to share their support. One said: 'U r amazing.' 'Great job Amanda and your passing all your knowledge and skills onto your children xxx.' 'Well said Amanda. Personally I wouldn't bother trying to explain yourself. These people obviously lack intelligence and can't begin to understand the bigger picture of what's required to keep a herd of sheep healthy and safe. They do say ignorance is bliss so they must live a very blissful life! Keep up the good work and completely side line these sad people with nothing better to do with their time but look for trouble. Love your programme Amanda..' 'You shouldn't have to explain anything.' 'Well said Amanda. I grew up on a sheep farm in the Peak District so do understand. It's when you get people commenting who haven't a clue, best to stay quiet if you have no experience.' It comes after last week Reuben defiantly hit back at critics after being slammed for the same video. In the clip, mum-of-nine Amanda can be heard saying: 'Well this is what you've been getting up to in lambing fields,' while Reuben is laying across an ewe and lamb. He then picks up the ewe by the horns and she tells her son: 'You did great there! And you got the lamb at the same time.' Amanda captioned the post: 'Caught ewe. Reuben downs tools and springs into action. '*Everyone lends a hand, there is no one exempt from lambing time tasks*.' Many rushed to the comments section to share their love with the shepherdess - and told her she shouldn't have to explain However, many fans were confused by the post and didn't like seeing Reuben handle the ewe as they didn't know what he was actually doing. Some took to leaving comments including, 'Why are you treating the ewe like that? Absolutely disgusting and I'm disappointed as I thought you were better than that.' Or, 'I didn't like how you held the sheep! Absolutely disturbing! Animals are treated with respect and not like trash!' In an interview with The Telegraph, Reuben responded to the online furore and said: 'I don't have the time or the inclination to scroll through social media.' The young farmer added: 'If you do ever see me on my phone, I'll be searching for machinery sales.' Some did jump to the 21-year-old's defence however and penned: 'Please ignore comments from any animal activist… if we all listened to them nothing would ever get done and we'd all be starving by now . Carry on farming.' Another said: 'Kindness is a gift, if you cannot say anything nice please say nothing at all.' Our Farm Next Door, which premiered last year on More4, follows Amanda and ex-husband Clive, 69, renovating an abandoned farmhouse alongside their kids Raven, 23, Reuben, 21, Miles, 18, Edith, 16, Violet, 14, Sidney, 13, Annas, 11, Clemmy, nine, and Nancy, eight. Earlier this month Amanda said she is 'suffering sleepless nights' after facing 'daunting and difficult decisions' in the show. The roof of the derelict property had no slates on it at all, leaving the Owen family starting from scratch to make sure it was warm and dry. Their builder Richard needed Amanda to decide which slates she wanted, asking, '15 or 16 inch wide?' - and pointing to one , saying: 'What we are thinking is this but we need a decision.' She appeared completely overwhelmed by indecision, replying: 'Oh no, is it up to me?' Explaining her decision-making paralysis, she said: 'Trying to get everything all joined up is so difficult. I never realised there was so much planning going into this. 'Richard is brilliant but Richard still has questions that need answering and it's trying to keep everyone happy. 'It's still quite daunting and it still gives me quite a few sleepless nights.' The builder admitted it was 'quite hard' to put the 'big, heavy slates' on the precarious farmhouse, known as Anty John's and near the Owen family's Ravenseat Farm. Amanda and Owen split in 2022 after 22 years of marriage.
Yahoo
25-05-2025
- Yahoo
What it's like to be a sheep farmer in Greenland
Norse ruins shiver in the shadow of the ice sheet in Greenland's deep south. There, Ellen K. Frederiksen tends the nation's oldest working sheep farm, Illunnguujuk. This overlooks a turquoise fjord that explorer Erik the Red — founder of Greenland's first European settlement — once called home. Ellen upholds a hardy tradition that's both ancient and unexpectedly modern, fending off wild predators, climate change and rising costs while honouring local knowledge and natural rhythms. Her farm, which features an onsite B&B, is in Kujataa: a UNESCO World Heritage Site noted as the first known place of agriculture in the Arctic. We spoke to Ellen about life in this remote part of the world. I moved from the capital Nuuk, to be a schoolteacher, when I was 24. That was in the early 1980s. But I married a farmer, Carl. There's a lot of work being a farmer's wife: helping with lambing and other jobs, on top of being a teacher. But when you're in love, anything is possible. Yes, a good life — but also a hard life. Even though I'm now retired from teaching, we still work all the time. We don't have vacations like other people. We take care of the animals from November until the middle of June. Then we work on the fields and grow grass in summer so the sheep have something to eat. Autumn is exciting, seeing how many lambs have managed to grow. Spring, specifically May, is hectic: we work 24 hours a day at the stable when all the lambs are born. It's always a privilege to finish lambing season, and to know we have a good average of lamb per mother. We can give ourselves a pat on the back. But summer is best, when the fields are green and warm. On our farm we don't have mosquitos, unlike other places. Some say it is because of our sheep. Erik the Red – who was in exile after doing very bad things in Iceland – brought sheep and other livestock when he came here in the year 985. He gave Greenland its name, partly as a way of attracting other people to settle. His descendants stayed for about five centuries, until the Norse disappeared suddenly, around the year 1500. There are many theories. Perhaps it was disease. I think the most likely answer is the climate changed. Whatever happened, that was the end of sheep farming. My own ancestors, who came centuries ago from either modern-day Mongolia or Siberia, made a living through hunting and fishing whatever they could get from nature — a lot of seals. About a hundred years ago, seals became rare, so the government had to think of other ways to make a living. There was a pilot project: importing about a dozen sheep from the Faroe Islands, to see if they could live in the climate. They survived. My husband's grandfather, Otto Frederiksen, was a carpenter on that project, and was inspired to start his own farm in 1924, which we still run today. There was not much machinery, even when I arrived. Ewes would lamb up in the hills. Since the 1990s, we must do it in the barn: a regulation introduced after a very hard winter when many sheep died. Today we follow a strict programme to control which sheep mate. [This is] to avoid interbreeding and to maintain good quality meat. It's a lot of work — more data than you might think! Yes, it is beautiful. And we are lucky, farming on the edge of the ice. We have eagles in the area. But between the eagles, the ravens and the foxes, we lose maybe 2 to 3% of our lambs every year. The eagles are not our friends. Once, we sold our wool overseas, but that became uneconomical. For about ten years, we simply burned it. Local ladies made yarn and learned to felt and spin, but not on a commercial scale. Then I decided — because we also run a bed and breakfast — to create an opportunity for tourists to do wool work. With the help of equipment supplied by National Geographic-Lindblad Expeditions, I set up workshops for visitors to spin and felt. We dye wool using local herbs and plants. Starting this summer, we'll make nice sweaters, socks, mittens and bags. Climate change makes the weather unpredictable: high winds, intense snowfall, periods of drought. The war in Ukraine makes the price of fertiliser, and equipment, very high. But we have to be optimistic. My son will take over the farm when my husband retires, and he will be the fourth generation. Greenland people are used to living with whatever our landscape can provide. Self-sufficiency, creativity and resource management — these are all in our nature. For wool: Iiju Yarn & Craft Shop, QaqortoqVisitors to this shop in Qaqortoq can peruse yarns and handcrafted items made from local sheep's wool, and purchase authentic Greenlandic textiles. For lunch: Cafe Thorhildur, QassiarsukLocated on the town harbour, this cosy, farmer-owned cafe is a community hub that serves local lamb and beers. Ideal for experiencing authentic Greenlandic flavours. For the farm experience: Sheep farm stays in IgalikuKnown for ravishing scenery and Norse ruins, Igaliku offers opportunities to learn about sheep farming, join in daily activities and relish the tranquillity. This paid content article was created for Visit South Greenland. It does not necessarily reflect the views of National Geographic, National Geographic Traveller (UK) or their editorial subscribe to National Geographic Traveller (UK) magazine click here. (Available in select countries only).
Daily Mail
20-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Our Yorkshire Farm's Reuben Owen defiantly hits back at critics after being slammed for 'disgusting and disturbing' video shared by mum Amanda
Our Yorkshire Farm 's Reuben Owen has defiantly hit back at critics after being slammed for 'disgusting and disturbing' video shared by his mother, Amanda. Earlier this month, the 50-year-old shepherdess, who is best known for starring in the Channel 4 show, took to her Instagram page to share a clip of her son Reuben, 21, helping her out on the Ravenseat Farm in Swaledale, Yorkshire. In the clip, mum-of-nine Amanda can be heard saying: 'Well this is what you've been getting up to in lambing fields,' while Reuben is laying across an ewe and lamb. He then picks up the ewe by the horns and she tells her son: 'You did great there! And you got the lamb at the same time.' Amanda captioned the post: 'Caught ewe. Reuben downs tools and springs into action. '*Everyone lends a hand, there is no one exempt from lambing time tasks*.' However, many fans were confused by the post and didn't like seeing Reuben handle the ewe as they didn't know what he was actually doing. Some took to leaving comments including, 'Why are you treating the ewe like that? Absolutely disgusting and I'm disappointed as I thought you were better than that.' Or, 'I didn't like how you held the sheep! Absolutely disturbing! Animals are treated with respect and not like trash!' In an interview with The Telegraph, Reuben responded to the online furore and said: 'I don't have the time or the inclination to scroll through social media.' The young farmer added: 'If you do ever see me on my phone, I'll be searching for machinery sales.' Some did jump to the 21-year-old's defence however and penned: 'Please ignore comments from any animal activist… if we all listened to them nothing would ever get done and we'd all be starving by now . Carry on farming.' Another said: 'Kindness is a gift, if you cannot say anything nice please say nothing at all.' Our Farm Next Door, which premiered last year on More4, follows Amanda and ex-husband Clive, 69, renovating an abandoned farmhouse alongside their kids Raven, 23, Reuben, 21, Miles, 18, Edith, 16, Violet, 14, Sidney, 13, Annas, 11, Clemmy, nine, and Nancy, eight. Earlier this month Amanda said she is 'suffering sleepless nights' after facing 'daunting and difficult decisions' in the show. The roof of the derelict property had no slates on it at all, leaving the Owen family starting from scratch to make sure it was warm and dry. Their builder Richard needed Amanda to decide which slates she wanted, asking, '15 or 16 inch wide?' - and pointing to one , saying: 'What we are thinking is this but we need a decision.' She appeared completely overwhelmed by indecision, replying: 'Oh no, is it up to me?' Explaining her decision-making paralysis, she said: 'Trying to get everything all joined up is so difficult. I never realised there was so much planning going into this. 'Richard is brilliant but Richard still has questions that need answering and it's trying to keep everyone happy. 'It's still quite daunting and it still gives me quite a few sleepless nights.' The builder admitted it was 'quite hard' to put the 'big, heavy slates' on the precarious farmhouse, known as Anty John's and near the Owen family's Ravenseat Farm. Amanda and Owen split in 2022 after 22 years of marriage.
Yahoo
19-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
The sheep-farming fight tarnishing the Lake District fells
Butterflies flutter over a verdant Lake District meadow, and tiny fish make their way over the gravel of the crystal-clear Swindale Beck as it meanders through the valley. Somewhere on the hillside scrub a cuckoo calls. Above, a peregrine and buzzard circle the bluest of skies, diving towards the bright yellow common gorse below us, the gentle breeze wafting its distinctive coconut scent. As the path through this remarkable, award-winning valley opens up – it's one of three that make up the 12 square miles of farmland, moorland, rivers, rainforest and wildflower meadows that is Wild Haweswater – two walkers stop and gasp at the beauty of it all. If there were a classic springtime scene in the Lake District it would surely be this… that is, if there weren't one thing missing. It's lambing season – yet there are no iconic Lake District sheep to be seen. And that's because, on this land tenanted by the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB) from landowners United Utilities (Haweswater being a reservoir supplying two million people in the North West with drinking water), the thousands of sheep that have traditionally been tasked with grazing have gradually been destocked – to the point where, a few weeks ago, some of the last were sold by the RSPB at auction. Farmers have been keeping sheep on the upland fells for centuries, although in truly significant numbers only since the Second World War, when food production was ramped up. Particularly since the foot-and-mouth outbreak in 2001, landowners – sometimes via their tenants – have destocked, changing land management policies in line with the direction of government subsidies towards agri-environment schemes. In the RSPB's case, it believed that the environmental aims it had for the landscape of the two farms that had sheep on them – Naddle and Swindale – would be better served by replacing the grazing areas with cattle and ponies, replanting trees and native plants and even restoring the river running through the valley back to its natural route. And for all that the RSPB and United Utilities have the right to do this given it is their land, some local sheep farmers believe that these environmental schemes and policies are the final nail in the coffin for a traditional industry that is on its knees. Residents reckon this beautiful part of the eastern Lakes has lost half its farms in the past 10 years. '[The RSPB sold the sheep] for what? So they can do some more rewilding? What a load of rubbish,' says Katy Cropper, a local farmer and sheepdog trainer who used to help the farmers at Swindale gather their sheep. 'See over there?' she asks, pointing across the valley. 'The fell looks to me like an overgrown mess. It used to be beautiful, [grazed by sheep which were] maintained by farmers for generations. Now it's just a tinderbox of long brown grass waiting to go up in flames. 'All this money is being spent on a waste of time; millions of pounds spent on trees which I can't see growing successfully. And we can't eat trees, can we? What's happened here has spoilt the community, ruined people's livelihoods. What are the families who have grown up shepherding these lands going to do now?' The stats bear it out: Defra's report last year had the UK's sheep population at a record low, while the Agriculture and Horticulture Development Board industry body recently published a report showing sheep meat imports were up 59 per cent on 2023 for the first two months of 2025. While the research shows the UK is self-sufficient in sheep meat, as the National Sheep Association points out, self-sufficiency is not the same as food or industry security – both of which are vulnerable if governments and agencies prioritise imports and environmental schemes over domestic production. It feels like Wild Haweswater, then, is at the heart of a battle for the true soul, the very character of the Lake District. Indeed, the Unesco description of the Lake District National Park when it was awarded World Heritage status makes explicit reference to the symbiotic relationship between farming and the environment in this part of the world: 'A landscape of exceptional beauty, shaped by persistent and distinctive agro-pastural traditions and local industry which give it special character.' Yet the general consensus among the conservation community and environmental stakeholders is that if you want to maintain and develop the exceptional beauty of a landscape, sheep are probably not the best option: they believe they tend to degrade or destroy the natural, native plant life by constantly nibbling away at the trees, shrubs and flowering plants attempting to come through; heavier-footed animals, they say, trample the bracken instead and spread wildflower seed through their dung. Back at Naddle Farm – one of two farms here that the RSPB maintains – they're careful not to call what they do rewilding. 'It's a landscape restoration partnership with United Utilities,' says Annabel Rushton, the RSPB's people and partnerships manager. Hers may sound like a desk job, but she can't wait to get out into that landscape and show me an alder that now has rowan growing out of it. 'A classic indicator of a temperate rainforest,' she says. 'It's the second-largest area of this type of rainforest in the Lake District; a very special place. 'And then in the hay meadow, we'll have great burnet, wood cranesbill, melancholy thistle – it's like a wash of colour which then brings in all the insect life: golden-ringed dragonflies, dark green fritillaries, chimney sweeper moths. And our work to restore this habitat, bring it back from a pretty degraded state, is just getting better each year.' What frustrates the RSPB in this debate the most, though, is the narrative that it's somehow pushed out the sheep farmers of this area in favour of wildflowers. It's its own farming team which manages the livestock and habitat, and ultimately the RSPB didn't believe it could meet its aims for conservation on its land while running a flock of sheep. 'Look over there,' says Rushton, pointing beyond a particularly magnificent area of bright yellow gorse. 'You can still see sheep in this landscape on the common land, it's just that our objectives for our land are different.' As we wind our way through Swindale, Glen Swainson, Wild Haweswater's senior site manager, says the RSPB doesn't want to remove animals entirely but create a wood pasture, 'a really lovely balance between agriculture and nature conservation. 'It is still a farmed landscape that needs managing,' he admits when we come to a pasture with hill ponies happily grazing. 'We've had sheep, we've got cattle, and we've got these ponies, but the sheep element always has more of a struggle to it in terms of making it pay as upland sheep farming as a whole; everyone will tell you the economics of it are really difficult.'He has a point. Post-Brexit, the EU Common Agricultural Policy – which gave area-based direct payment subsidies to farmers – came to an end. These direct payments made up more than 80 per cent of government support for farmers and last year's 'Future of Sheep Farming' debate in the Houses of Parliament was quite clear that subsidies were relied upon 'to provide a business profit'. The new system based on Environmental Land Management schemes pays farmers for providing 'public goods' such as environmental improvements. The Sustainable Farming Incentive (SFI) also pays farmers to adopt and maintain sustainable farming practices that can protect and enhance the natural environment alongside food production, although that itself hit the headlines when it was halted in March, with no new SFI applications accepted after this date until a spending review was completed. 'I can actually see some sense in what the RSPB are doing in terms of economics,' says Mark Bousfield, who has lived and farmed sheep in the Swindale valley for most of his life. 'The farms here wouldn't survive without the enhancements the Government gives. But the government subsidies now aren't in food production, really, they're in environmental payouts.' But this isn't just a debate about economics or livelihoods. Spend any time with the people who live and work here, and they're also worried that these environmental schemes are not actually being managed properly. Magnus McIntosh lives at the end of the valley and with his wife, he's refurbished a derelict farmhouse once used by a local artist captivated by the views. It's still off-grid, and their young son was the first child to be born here in decades. 'We have a responsibility to nurture the environment and protect habitats,' he says. 'The area around here is a Site of Special Scientific Interest, and it's one of the reasons we came here. 'The hay meadows are incredible; in 1985, they were one of the most species-rich in north-west Cumbria. But my worry is that the removal of sheep and a lot of the RSPB projects are actually having a detrimental effect. The meadows have visibly declined; they do actually require careful management and a strict grazing regime. 'It's going to end up being a bleak little valley with reeds everywhere and dead grass. It feels like there's a lot of money being wasted; rewilding schemes today appear driven by funding opportunities rather than genuine care for wildlife and long-term ecological health.' For McIntosh, it's about conserving, improving and enhancing the landscape as it is now, not trying to return it to how it was 1,000 years ago. You get the sense that his local MP, Tim Farron, recognises there's a real issue here, too. 'There is definitely an ideological and unjustified determination to massively reduce, if not remove, the presence of sheep from the Lake District,' he says. 'And I think that is dangerous, and based upon this idea that we're massively overgrazed. Now that was the case before foot-and-mouth, but that was a generation ago. 'So a lot of the understanding about the relationship between sheep numbers and the nature of the environment is just massively, inexcusably out of date. And what that leads to is this sense that sheep are somehow like locusts, which I think a lot of non-farmers seem to believe. If you go for wilderness solutions, you don't always get biodiversity – you get invasive species taking over.' Farron thinks that removing sheep from the Lake District landscape is as much a potential branding issue too. 'Would Unesco take away their World Heritage Site status from the Lake District? I mean, they could if you look at the citation, it specifically credits farmers for the way the landscape looks. And that would be devastating.' So what is the solution? For Farron, it's perfectly clear what needs to be done. 'One really simple thing under the stewardship schemes is that you are entitled as a farmer to take an option to create woodland pasture, where you can grow trees, and graze animals – but only if they're cattle. What we desperately need is a woodland pasture option in the uplands that allows people to be sheep farmers as well, allowing for the differences in how they graze. 'So I think, rather than everyone getting in their bunkers and shouting at each other, there's a perfectly sensible, clever way we can move forward here, where we do protect nature, we do grow trees, and we also maintain the importance to our heritage, our landscape, our environment and our food production capabilities.' As the sun begins to go down on another perfect Lake District day, the RSPB seems just as keen not to get embroiled in a culture war. Woodland pasture, of course, is what the RSPB is actually proposing for Swindale – although currently Farron doubts whether it could or would put sheep there at the moment. 'People will have different opinions on what we are doing here,' admits Swainson. 'But we will always try to continue a good relationship with everyone; there are ways in which every facet of life in this valley can work together.' Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
