Last but not least – a grand life on the farm
Newborough is a beautiful, small, rural village situated in East Staffordshire on the North West side of Needwood Forest, three miles South West of Hanbury and eight miles West of Burton-upon-Trent.
The Red Lion is on the corner of the little road we are staying on and was a very popular restaurant and meeting place for locals, travellers, horses, steam engines, pork pies and anything else that came to this tiny village. No shops, just a pub!
We are staying at Brook Farm with three horses, two dogs, 13 chickens, a rooster and two sheep.
Gerry: We had seen a few pictures on the website of Abbotts Bromley it looked very impressive. Jacky had been in regular contact with Emma, as we had a few extra duties to the normal petsit here looking after chickens, horses, sheep and two dogs. Originally the horses were going to be out in the pastures but because it had been such a hot, dry summer there was no grass for them to feed on and they needed a break from the heat.
We were on a high after our whistle-stop tour of Oxford, so when we pulled in the driveway and were given a warm welcome from Emma and Andrew, the high continued. Emma baked some garlic flatbread along with tasty pasta for mains. Andrew was keeping our red wine glasses topped up with an assortment of fine Riojas. We stayed outside enjoying the company and the beautifully balmy evening until 10.30 pm. Roxy the Rottweiler, was immediately all over us with kisses while Roly a 17-year-old family pet tried to stay out of the way her tail which was a lethal weapon!
The next morning we were able to review the welcome sheet with Emma and Andrew which helped our confidence a lot. But the proof is in the pudding, so we sprang into action around 2.30pm after the family left for Heathrow. Horses were out in the field for the night, lambs fed with the chickens, then tucked in their coup for the night. Oh yes, the dogs settled down with a little walk for Roxy to the top field, dinner and then Roly went through a ritual of tucking himself in by rolling a blanket around himself until all you could see was his nose. Night night old doggy.
We both melted into a nice comfortable bed that would be our home for the next two weeks.
The big test the next day was bringing the horses down from the field into their stalls for their feed and rest from the hot midday sun. Maggie is the lead horse so once she is in the others pretty well follow to their respective places. Jacky always being one to take on any challenge, led Maggie down while I had Gwynnie and Dora, a 27 year old pony followed at her own pace. Jacky did exceptionally well to lead Maggie down the hill into the stall as she probably weighs 500kg and is all muscle and bone. A little while after putting them in their stalls we started to hear this sound like someone was kicking bricks around on a concrete floor. We went back out to check what was going on and discovered the horses all had these many sided hard plastic containers that had a hole in the bottom and they had to roll them around until a treat would fall out. They were kicking them like soccer balls, Gwynnie flipping it over with her nose. It is said it stops them from getting bored.
The lambs had knocked over the boards around the chicken coup so they were all out early in the morning with the rooster crowing away. Success we had three eggs waiting to be collected.
