The Farm Diaries

#4 Sausage, White Bean & Rosemary Pasta

Hello lovely people. I just wanted to start by apologising profusely for my absence on Substack these last two weeks. I was struck down by the most violent case of Covid and have been properly bed bound for a week which is very unlike me. I think it’s the most ill I’ve ever been. I could hardly open my eyes, let alone taste or cook. So I’m afraid I’ve just been resting, desperate to get back on my feet, looking out the window at the most glorious spring sunshine and limping up and down the hill to check the sheep as much as possible. This week I’ve written up a recipe for the most delicious sausage, white bean and rosemary pasta. It's a thick, hearty Italian stew, with lots of garlic, rosemary and bay, salty salsiccia sausages spiked with fennel, and pasta that gets cooked in the sauce, thickening it all together, becoming one. Finished with lots of parmesan and olive oil, it’ll light a fire in your belly that’ll keep you warm all day.

Luckily I began to recover in the nick of time as we began lambing at pace. The first morning I went out we had 15 lambs born overnight. Mostly twins, all healthy and well. I moved the sheep to a sheltered field right next to the house, walking the field all day, making sure I’m around if anyone needs help birthing. So far, it’s all been pretty breezy and I’ve only had to step in twice. Hebridean sheep are a tough old breed that hasn’t been messed with, they’ve been around for a very long time and have all their wild and clever instincts intact. Fantastic mothers, tough as nails and fiercely protective.

The first birth that needed help was a first-time mum who was clearly struggling with the pain, she couldn’t quite settle. She would find a secluded spot to begin contractions, start pushing, but then get flustered and walk around again for a while before settling down and repeating the process. I watched her for an hour, never wanting to intervene when it’s not necessary, but decided it was time to make sure everything was ok and offer a helping hand. When she was lying down in some rushes, I snuck up from behind and grabbed her. The lamb was presenting the right way, nose and feet showing, but just struggling to get out. So I untucked its legs and gave her a helping pull, working in rhythm with her contractions, and in 30 seconds the lamb was out. I cleared its nose and mouth of mucus, immediately passed it to her and she began cleaning right away. A model mother, it was such a joy to be part of the process.

The next birth that needed help was the opposite - one of the trickiest and most stressful births I’ve ever been part of. I went out in the morning for a routine walk of the field, noted any new lambs, and checked all the edges for anyone separated from the flock looking to give birth, but all was ok. On the way back up to the house for my coffee, I walked through the main body of the flock, passing all the ewes who haven’t given birth yet, and saw one running around with the rest of them, with a lamb head hanging out of her, its tongue blue and swollen, its head bouncing as she ran around. She’d clearly been giving birth for a while, but the lamb was stuck and she’d given up. It’s quite easy grabbing a sheep who’s mid labour as they slow right down and you can often sneak up behind them when they lie down, but this sheep had decided she was done with labour, and was galloping away from my prying hands at full speed. I chased her for a while alone, then grabbed Ellie for a second pair of hands. The poor lamb’s head was bouncing and choking as the ewe bombed around the field. Very distressing, eventually we caught her and things were not looking good.