Around the Rowan Tree, Day 17

With my father settled into the cottage and arrangements made for the motherless children, there remained the problem of my mother.

The doctors took some time to assess her and her future requirements but they finally decided she would need to go into a nursing home and asked us which we would prefer, Perth or Dundee.

We said Perth and as luck would have it there was a free bed in one of Perth’s nicest nursing homes. However, I wasn’t too happy about this, Mother being in a nursing home, however nice. How would her independent spirit take to this? Perhaps I could take her. I went to Dr Edington with my proposal.

“Now look here,” he said emphatically, “your mother has been lucky enough to get into one of Perth’s best nursing homes. I couldn’t have arranged that. You won’t get the chance again. And,” he said, making the argument that he knew would get to me, “it wouldn’t be fair to your mother. With the best help in the world, you couldn’t look after her as well as they would in hospital.”

As if all that wasn’t enough, out of the blue, Ronald had a slight heart attack. All the tests were done.

Difficulty

“Rather unusual case,” Dr Edington told me. “He’s had this problem for a long time. Perhaps he had rheumatic fever or something when he was young. His heart should have enlarged a bit to compensate but for some reason it hasn’t.”

This explained the difficulty Ronald had experienced with long sustained hard work. His father had liked to call it laziness which it hadn’t been.

Also he was having trouble with his legs due to certain hardening of the arteries and his nerves were bad. “People talk about nerves,” he said. “Nerves! Ever since I was young I’ve been able to feel every nerve in my body.”

The doctor wanted him to go into hospital for what might be quite a lengthy stay. “I can’t,” he said to me. “I can’t leave you and the children. How could you manage to run a farm and look after all the kids? You don’t even have help just now.”

This was true as Jane had been gone a couple of years and Mrs Hodge who was once my mainstay now worked at a neighbouring farmer’s hens.

“I’ll get someone if I’m stuck,” I assured Ronald, “and I’ll give you a daily bulletin of what’s happening on the farm and we’ve always got Dave Scott, the grieve. He’ll know what needs to be done. He’ll keep me right.”

Ronald reluctantly agreed. The doctors warned me that he would need to stay for the complete treatment but I knew Ronald would refuse if things were going wrong on the farm. So they just had to go right.

Mostly we didn’t have too many animals, just cattle or lambs to fatten in the autumn. But this year we had some in-calf heifers. He’d bought them at a neighbour’s sale; they’d been a bargain. Most of them had calved well.

I would only have one or two to worry about. On the last day of March the remaining heifer started to calf. Dave Scott came in about teatime a bit worried about her. “Come and have a look,” he said, “she’s been at it a wee while.”

I went over to the byre. She was lying down looking rather uncomfortable. Remembering my own births I said: “Oh she’ll probably be all right. It can take some time. No two are alike.”

Dave and I kept a watchful eye on her all that evening. I went to the byre just before midnight fully expecting to see a calf, but there was nothing.

The heifer was standing up and I saw two small hooves of her calf. Trouble, the calf was coming the wrong way. I would have to get help but who?

Expensive

I had been so well trained not to think of vets unless as a last resort. Vets were expensive, they could take away any profit there was on an animal.

Dave Scott didn’t know about animals, he was an arable man. And then I thought of our nearest neighbour. Jim had a dairy and knew all about calfing cows, that was his life.

It was five minutes past midnight when I phoned. A sleepy voice answered. “A cow calving at Inchmichael, what time is it?”

I thought this an odd question but obligingly looked at the clock. “A minute past midnight.”

“By, that’s a clever one,” he said. “You’re quick off your mark. I wonder who put you up to it. But I’m not so easily April fooled.”

It took me a wee while to get through to him that this was no April fool, this was for real. But when I did he was over at Inchmichael in no time at all and the heifer safely delivered.

He had brought with him his new equipment that he had acquired at the Smithfield Show in the winter. I admired his expertise, his instant handling of the situation as good as any vet’s, his bravery. Heifers especially can be a bit obstreperous in these situations.

“No trouble, any time,” he said and was gone, back for a short rest no doubt, before he got up at 3am for the milking. I was able to tell Ronald next day that all the heifers were safely delivered. That could have been an instance of losing both cow and calf.

The spring wore on. I hadn’t realised until now how difficult farming really was, the decisions that had to be made, taking into account what the weather might do.

We had only two men and they had a lot to do getting land ready for the sowing of peas, spring barley, etc. As the crops grew you had to watch there was nothing going wrong.

The number of things that could happen to them was incredible. I took to walking round the fields whenever I could get the chance and taking wee Kathleen with me.

Unbelievable

She was a great walker and the only one at home now. Walking round the fields was not exactly a chore that spring. The weather was comparatively good and the crops took on that unbelievable emerald, the straight blades of wheat, the curly barley.

Curlew, lapwings, oyster catchers came back to nest in the growing fields. Larks were everywhere, singing. In May, all along the pow where the water hens nested, the hawthorn bloomed thicker than ever. On the long verges of the farm road, Lady Ann’s Lace was a white flourish that swayed in the wind. I worked out my itinerary for the day on these walks.

The afternoons were most likely spent in hospital visiting. Kathleen came with me. She was my little comfort in everything. I realised it was good for children to see the unwell and disabled from an early age.

Young children take everything in naturally and how much patients in hospital liked to see a bright little girl!

Hay time came. The weather was threatening to break down. Would we be able to get it all in in time. The weather kept up long enough, only one field to go but quite a big one, the bales of hay all lay scattered about and had to be gathered up. It was in the days when the bales were small square ones.

More tomorrow.

By, that’s a clever one,” he said. “You’re quick off your mark. I wonder who put you up to it. But I’m not so easily April fooled.”