Christmas on the farm is both the hardest and the happiest of times
Ihave experienced both the happiest and the toughest of Christmases since coming to live with my husband on our Staffordshire Moorlands farm. It’s tough for many of the reasons you would imagine. The livestock do not recognise the need to give you a break. They have the cheek to still need feeding, cleaning out, bedding down, and maybe milking, even during the period between Christmas and New Year. This also happens to be the time when the lure of the open fire, the television and food and drink is at its strongest – and tantalisingly, they are all just a few yards away.
And unlike many of the other troupers who work over Christmas, we also have to contend with the weather. We have had snowed-in Christmases but the usual pattern is rain, wind and grey. Snow usually comes to this area about January 20. Still just about in living memory is the winter of 1946-47, when it snowed from mid-january until early March with sad and dramatic results.
There are happy moments on a farm over Christmas, and they are transient, delicate and difficult to capture. It is mostly about the animals. Their steamy breath, their playfulness, the trust that you will feed and tend to them. Strange as it might sound, going outside, much as you don’t feel like it, can make you feel better; a break from the torpor. At the very least, the quiet – apart from the familiar noises of the animals – and the fresh air make the attractions of going back inside all the sweeter.
It is difficult to get someone to stand in for you at this time of year, so most farmers will work over the season. You might not get them to admit this, but some definitely use the importance of the job they do as an excuse to avoid having to do anything resembling socialising.
People sometimes call in the depths of winter and that can be disconcerting. We have had a visit from a couple of neighbours who looked like yetis, rugged up against the weather. My husband failed to see the sense of adventure, being of the mind that if you can give in to the weather and stay at home, that’s what you should do.
There is a strong element of competition and machismo in the farming community – and the women are just as bad. I did shake my head recently while watching a programme about farmers and their search for love. One young woman was adamant that she had no time for boyfriends because of the demands of the farm. I wanted to say: no. It is essential to have balance and some time off. Otherwise you are in danger of losing your enthusiasm and falling into the habit of drudgery. Don’t do it.
The work, however, never stops. So, no self-pity. Very few people farm for the money and even fewer for the conditions. There are moments of high stress when an animal (or human) is in danger. There are many moments of frustration when a machine appears to choose precisely the wrong time to break down, causing you maximum inconvenience. Though governed by too much regulation and at the mercy of the market to a destabilising extent, you are still, in important ways, your own boss.
Despite the period of unpopularity we are experiencing, there is still the satisfaction of doing a tough but hugely fulfilling job. Christmas may not be a break for most farmers, but it is a joyful time nonetheless.