DAGGER IN CHIEF?!

I won't start by making excuses for not blogging.  Anyone who knows us knows how many people come through the station and how many people I have to feed.  At present I am feeding the six of us (and Scotty of course eats for two), two young Frenchmen (ou la la), a young South African and a couple from Cornwall in the UK, hence the lack of time.  I am also coaching a netball team, have been writing policies for the local Early Childhood Centre and Bus Committee and attending meetings for both.  Not to mention all the unpaid volunteer work I do for the station and of course raising the four holy terrors.  Actually now that I think about it, those all sound like excuses, but they are very plausible ones.

So today it was time for some dagging.  We have the students from Taratahi Agricultural Training Centre out here at the moment with their tutor, plus the aforementioned foreigners and of course ME, general dogsbody.  The plan was to get the foreigners dragging the sheep from the pens for the students who would then dag.  I had a wee giggle to myself because when we went up there all us Kiwis stripped off a couple of layers of clothing and put on some mocs.  After about ten minutes and a hell of a lot of sweating, the french boys started stripping off their layers as well.  Patch, from Cornwall, has done a wee bit of time on a handpiece before so he was able to actually get on the end of one and give it a go.  I always think that any muppet can work with sheep and there is no skill involved.  Today disproved that theory, there is definitely an art to working with them. 

I decided I would put my broom down for a bit and drag for a couple of the girls who were dagging.  I went into the pen beside one of the french boys and it became apparent to me immediately as to why they were sweating so much.  Now bear in mind that I am somewhere north of 30, have spat four kids out and I'm probably old enough to be the boys' mother (had I been overly amorous as a teenager) so you would think that they would have it all over me on the fitness front and would find flipping a sheep much easier than me.  Alas, no.  Turns out that my years spent in docking pens and yards as Scott's apprentice has served me well.  I was able to flip a sheep much quicker and easier than the boys and was able to "advise" them on the correct technique.  This was also the case when it came to them having a go on the handpiece.

The french boys are studying agriculture in France and one of their course requirements is to spend four months completing an internship on a farm in an english speaking country.  Of course given that they are on a large sheep and beef station, it was only a matter of time before they were given a handpiece and taught to dag.  Again, its that same old thing of knowing how to handle a sheep.  The boys found it really difficult to get the sheep to relax and looked incredibly awkward trying to hold them.  At that point I felt I really wasn't in a position to criticise (at least not out loud) and it's a long time since I've been on the end of a handpiece.  I did make some smart comments about them not knowing how to get a woman to relax but I think that perhaps it got lost in translation, or they just chose to ignore me.

Catherine being taught how to shear by Scott with Mathieu watching on.

Patch from Cornwall being handed a sheep by Mathieu from France

What a team, husband and wife doing the business.

So we were getting towards the end of the day and I decided that I would give it a go.  I have picked up a handpiece before but it was a hell of a long time ago.  There is definitely a huge advantage in knowing how to hold a sheep and getting it to sit in a relaxed position.  To be honest, I surprised myself, and I definitely surprised my darling husband, with my skills.  For everyone else who gave it a go, they had to keep stopping, turning the machine off, repositioning and starting again.  NOT ME.  I was able to dag without too much difficulty, just had a wee bit of trouble getting around the hamstring area, but Scott assured me that was more to do with blunt gear than my actual technique.  Four sheep done and dusted in double quick time (or at least quicker than the frenchies, Marius from South Africa and Catherine from Cornwall and no slower than the Taratahi female students).  The young guys all only shore one each.  I was blardy proud of myself given my age and overall physical condition.  My only concern now is that because I made not a bad fist of it, Scott is going to make me practice a little bit more and then use me as his dagger-in-chief?!  Shit, I hope not.  Of course when he finally arrived back at the house tonight I told him how wonderfully well I had done and that he should be proud of me.  As is usual for Scott he completely burst my bubble by giving me a withering look and saying "Yes Dear but you only did four, let's see how good you are when you do a full day".  I think he just issued a challenge.  It's yet another skillI I can add to my ever-growing resume as a Farmer's Wife.

Here I am, giving everyone a demonstation