I am constantly thinking of how best to address the issue of self-sufficiency. How to get the most out of the least; how to provide for a family without cutting corners and continuing to enjoy a complete lifestyle. One of the difficulties to overcome is how to produce butter and cheese, as we do eat a lot of both. I’ve talked to people about cows but, while I really like the idea of keeping a couple, the deciding factor will be the amount of land. Apparently William Cobbett, a (turn of the) 19th Century reformist and farmer, had a way to keep a cow on a quarter of an acre but everyone else you speak to, alive that is, says you need at least one acre per beast plus another for hay. So that, pretty much, is out of our league.
Goats also produce good quality milk, need a lot less room and are smaller than cows so that’s been a recent avenue of exploration. After contacting both the Anglo Nubian and Saanen societies, I was given the name of a goat keeper near Blackpool and, on the hottest day of the year (not difficult), we trundled off to look at his herd. It was a little disappointing, then, to find only four Anglo Nubian goats in residence: two milkers, a year-old female and a crusty old Billy in a back field. We were warned not to touch him, ‘because of the smell’, and told he was ‘past his sell-by date’, although still capable of siring kids. Billy didn't seem too upset at hearing this.
Out of the hot noon sun and into the goat shed, a light and airy, albeit cobwebby, building where the three females are housed. We talked about care and feeding and how fussy they were about eating things off the floor. From there we moved on to the small parlour where they were milked. Environmental health are very fussy about hygiene, we were told, although as we were shown the scales, where the milk is weighed and then recorded, I noticed a cobweb running from them to the wall. Next door was the cheese-making room and we went through the basic process of making cheese, cleanliness being paramount.
Then it was outside to meet the milkers. One of the goats, the dark one, is a very good example of how the breed should look as one of the others has lop-sided udders. As if to prove she was still exceptional, the lop-sided one showed us how she could cough and fart at the same time, something that impressed me at least. I even managed not to laugh, despite the temptation. We discussed the amount of milk, between 3 – 6 litres, you would get daily, and how to get rid of it. Would we make cheese and butter? Sell it? One option is to freeze it as goat milk and cheese freezes well, better than cow’s milk, so that would be an option for when the goat is dry. The other thing to consider carefully is the twice-daily routine of milking…
After we left we headed for the beach and, surrounded English fatties and Polish families, we chatted about the commitment of keeping animals. It really is a tie, so if we can’t find people to look after them, we wouldn’t be able to go away and there lies the crux of the problem. One that needs a lot of thought. For now, while we're thinking, I will continue my quest for information about the best options and next on the list is milk sheep.
Many thanks to George Bassindale and his wife for their patience and honesty in answering a multitude of questions and for the milk and cheese we were given to take home. To be able to home produce something as tasty as this could well be the deciding factor!
Goats also produce good quality milk, need a lot less room and are smaller than cows so that’s been a recent avenue of exploration. After contacting both the Anglo Nubian and Saanen societies, I was given the name of a goat keeper near Blackpool and, on the hottest day of the year (not difficult), we trundled off to look at his herd. It was a little disappointing, then, to find only four Anglo Nubian goats in residence: two milkers, a year-old female and a crusty old Billy in a back field. We were warned not to touch him, ‘because of the smell’, and told he was ‘past his sell-by date’, although still capable of siring kids. Billy didn't seem too upset at hearing this.Out of the hot noon sun and into the goat shed, a light and airy, albeit cobwebby, building where the three females are housed. We talked about care and feeding and how fussy they were about eating things off the floor. From there we moved on to the small parlour where they were milked. Environmental health are very fussy about hygiene, we were told, although as we were shown the scales, where the milk is weighed and then recorded, I noticed a cobweb running from them to the wall. Next door was the cheese-making room and we went through the basic process of making cheese, cleanliness being paramount.Then it was outside to meet the milkers. One of the goats, the dark one, is a very good example of how the breed should look as one of the others has lop-sided udders. As if to prove she was still exceptional, the lop-sided one showed us how she could cough and fart at the same time, something that impressed me at least. I even managed not to laugh, despite the temptation. We discussed the amount of milk, between 3 – 6 litres, you would get daily, and how to get rid of it. Would we make cheese and butter? Sell it? One option is to freeze it as goat milk and cheese freezes well, better than cow’s milk, so that would be an option for when the goat is dry. The other thing to consider carefully is the twice-daily routine of milking…After we left we headed for the beach and, surrounded English fatties and Polish families, we chatted about the commitment of keeping animals. It really is a tie, so if we can’t find people to look after them, we wouldn’t be able to go away and there lies the crux of the problem. One that needs a lot of thought. For now, while we're thinking, I will continue my quest for information about the best options and next on the list is milk sheep.Many thanks to George Bassindale and his wife for their patience and honesty in answering a multitude of questions and for the milk and cheese we were given to take home. To be able to home produce something as tasty as this could well be the deciding factor!
An hour’s drive is all it is and the parking was fairly painless to find, albeit painful to pay for (£4.50 for four hours). Even at quarter to twelve the pubs weren’t empty, with plenty of people topping up the previous night’s levels. Occasional groups of stags and hens were wandering around, looking for a starter pub and several old soaks gave character to the tatty centre of town.
As a child we used to come to see the lights, so my impressions are of trams lit up, the prom aglow and a happy feeling. How different it looks now, on a cloudy, chilly Sunday in May. What anyone could find attractive about the place is beyond me. Even the highlight – a trip up the Tower – now has to be combined with the circus for a bargain ticket price of £12. The Pleasure Beach, Waxworks, Waterlife Centre adding to the cost by charging around the ten pound mark. Compared to that, the 50p to get on North Pier seemed something of a bargain. A pleasant stroll past fair rides and a bar, a good view of the Golden Mile and the smell of the sea. As we left, we passed a man on the way in, leather jacket, smoking, smelling, a patch of dribble from a recent toilet trip (or accident) marking the front of his fleecy jogging trousers. Ah Blackpool, you will stay in our memories, but for all the wrong reasons…
