Women in agriculture: Elizabeth Elder

Experience has taught me that it is best to keep New Year’s wishes within the realms of the realistic.

One of my main aims for 2010 is to sort out Bramble, our rather high-spirited border terrier puppy, who arrived in May.

I can’t remember actively training our previous dog – she just seemed to work out how to do the decent thing. Bramble is different. It has long been known that a sheep’s main mission in life is to die, but Bramble’s mission seems to be to cause chaos. She would have been priceless working for SOE behind enemy lines during the war as she is so accomplished at chewing through wiring.

One day I came home after taking the children to the bus to find Bramble standing on the kitchen table, delicately licking the butter. The next day she had climbed up, ripped up a pile of invoices and scattered them over the floor. It seems that “a dog ate my homework” incident is almost inevitable.

Today I came home and found that Bramble had gnawed her way into a sack of potatoes and nibbled four of them. I am only grateful that I got there before she started making herself some chips.

We have also just acquired a new collie puppy called Sam. Sam’s family are all fantastic working dogs. Our great hope for 2010 is that he will develop into one as well.

To be honest, though, with one or two very honourable exceptions, Jake’s dogs have been completely useless. It has often occurred to me that if only he had another competent dog, the children and I would not have to spend as much time outside – blocking gaps and being shouted at when he is gathering the sheep. To be fair, I don’t get involved in much of the outside work. I don’t have a great eye for sheep and I’m not very mechanical. My main outside roles could, therefore, be best described as unskilled: General lookout, pet calf and lamb feeder, taxi driver to some distant part of the range where the bike has been abandoned and, as previously mentioned, sometime assistant sheepdog.

My most important role in the business is probably keeping Jake sane, but I also run the office. I always start the week with a list of tasks I have to deal with, but somehow it always seems to get overtaken by events. Work also has to fit round the logistical problems posed by the children’s various commitments.

We live in a wonderful place but it takes at least 40 minutes to get anywhere and 50 minutes to get into town. There is always a growing pile of “stuff” which has to be sorted and dealt with and it moves from room to room, as circumstances dictate. A flow chart would show it rotating in heaps between the kitchen, the office, the dining room and the spare room, depending whether we are having an inspection, guests for lunch or Granny to stay. Perhaps my key mission for 2010 is to sort out the “stuff”.

It is also an ambition to get the house tidy enough to invite my aunt for lunch without having to have large areas roped off as out of bounds.

Our main construction project for 2010 is a big enclosed run for our five hens. The hens arrived last spring, after we built the house ourselves, drawing on the full resources of Jake’s tool kit (two screwdrivers, a hammer and an adjustable spanner) and our collective patience.

We gave the hens to the children, on the basis that this would foster enterprise and responsibility in them, plus we both have minor phobias about flapping wings.

It soon turned out that Archie was doing all the work, so eventually Julia and Archie agreed on a management buyout (possibly the only one in Britain in 2009) for £20.

Archie has developed two main markets Ð two boys from his mini-rugby team and Granny, who has loyally bought the eggs from the start when they had rather pale yolks.

We have found that the more time the hens spend out of the run, the better the yolks are and hence the need for a bigger enclosure. Rest assured, we will be calling in a professional this time.