Farm on the M62: Preparing for the Great Yorkshire Show - Jill Thorp

The little guy is, of course, on cloud nine, the excitement of time off school, his favourite show and the chance of perhaps the odd shandy or two, proving too much to contain!

Whilst he skips about dreaming of red rosettes and being crowned “Interbreed champion”, I’m frantically searching for exhibitor passes, show smocks and my sanity.

I’ve not even attempted to wash the sheep yet, let alone contemplate the dreaded “colouring” of the Leicester team.

This art, and believe me, it really is an art, is one I have yet to master successfully.

The sheep's colours or “bloom” are used to supposedly enhance the look of the sheep for the show ring or a sale.

It can, as I’ve found out many times, go horribly wrong and in my case, prove wise to have several practice sheep to hand, ones that won’t be attending a show in the near future.

Usually, these are pet lambs, and if they’re the ones belonging to your overly protective child, it’s prudent to ask their permission first before turning their lambs every shade of hi-vis yellow through to burnt magenta!

The motorway never ceases to throw drama our way, and for some reason, a large portion of it seems to happen right on our doorstep.

A huge explosion left me running into the yard at the beginning of last week when a wagon burst into flames.

Thick black acrid smoke soon engulfed the carriageways. The ponies in the croft next to it came charging across to the gate when they saw me approaching.

Thankfully, they were in no danger, and the wind carried the smoke up and away from us. I could see no sign of the driver and hoped he had got to safety and was taking cover beyond the flames.

I rang the emergency services whilst watching in utter disbelief as a van drove straight through the wall of dense smoke and flames. And then another one followed.

Desperation and stupidity drove more to run the gauntlet, some even blocking the access to the scene for the fire engines.

A wagon loaded to the hilt with straw edged forward but thankfully had the good sense not to drive blindly through the carnage.

I found the unlucky driver sitting on the verge some distance from his wrecked wagon. He was smiling, and most importantly, he was safe, but understandably not having the best of days.

I left him to contact his boss, and told him to shout if he needed help.

The fire services were brilliant and got the fire under control before spending the next couple of hours ensuring it was completely out.

With all surrounding roads completely gridlocked and no chance of me getting out, I was stuck at home, which gave me a chance to at least contemplate washing some sheep.