Sun
24-Apr-2005

beltane preparation weekend

Matt and I went to Devon on Friday to start preparing with the family for the Almighty Pagan Wonder that is to be the Beltane Party. We had a marvellous time, as ever, though the weather was rather rainy in the South West. The chickens were frantically laying so we ate lots of eggs and brought lots back to London too. The alpacas seemed to be well. We also had birth and death in close succession, with Millie the sheep having two lambs on Friday, but then unexpectedly dying on Saturday night, leaving two orphans. Rachel was quite upset about Millie - it reminds us of the perils of naming one's animals. It's amazing how much less traumatic it is to lose a number, rather than a name, cliché though that is. Millie is such a great name for a sheep - how could we not be attached to her?

On Sunday morning, I gave the lambs their first bottle feeds, something that used to be my traditional task around the house when I was younger. It always takes them a few times of trying before they take to bottles, so you have to force their mouth open and move the teat around till they suck. It reminded me of what a pleasant task it is hand rearing lambs. They are such plaintive, cute little creatures.

Both the orphans are females, so I presume we'll be keeping one to breed from again in future years, and kill the other for the freezer. Holding and feeding the lambs crystallised some of my thoughts on meat eating. I think whatever your stance on vegetarianism, industrial farming and meat eating, it brings peace to your mind to rear some animals yourself. For me it really simplifies everything. It's reasonable for humans to breed and rear domesticated livestock but these animals have the right to live naturally, in accordance with their nature. They should be able to move freely and eat natural food. Once you have reared sheep or pigs, and squared your affection for them with the fact that they have been brought into this world by humans to serve our needs, and been prepared if not to kill them yourself then at least to take them to the abbatoir - then the practices of industrial farming appear as obscene as they should, in contrast to the joys of eating ethically sourced meat. The contact with the reality of bringing up and killing an animal closes that gap between you and the meat that is such a source of doubt and defensiveness when buying industrially farmed meat shrink wrapped in supermarkets.