Farm on the M62: Surviving whale ordeal a step too far - Jill Thorp
The meadows are filling fast with new life and the endless bleating between ewe and lamb rings out, day and night. As fast as they’re loaded up into the trailer and taken to their summer grazing, new ones appear to take their place.
With the little guy back at school and our friend, Martin who takes a break from his regular job to help us over Easter now back to his walling duties, Paul is once again flat out and exhausted. Whilst it may look like one of the easiest aspects of farming, the list of things that can and do go wrong at lambing time is endless. You need a good dog, very good catching skills and eyes in the back of your head. Advanced midwifery skills as well as an abundance of patience, reserved for those that don’t bond with their lamb, is also an essential requirement.
After a busy morning, the three of us were all sat in the house, Paul dozing in his chair and the little guy bouncing off the walls, desperate to get back out into the lambing fields. The gates at the end of the drive had been left open as we had a delivery due so it can as no surprise when I heard a knock at the door. The little guy was there in seconds, peering out through the small glass panes. .”Its an inspector “ he bellowed.
Paul stirred from his sleep as we both urged the little guy to let him in. But the chap that stepped in with a great beaming smile was not the sort of inspector we envisaged. There was no radio attached to his hi-viz vest, no duty belt with handcuffs swinging. No, definitely not what we’d thought. Instead this “inspector” had a very large and well thumbed bible tucked under his arm which he pulled out, with a flourish and began to read from. A look of complete bewilderment spread across our son’s face, whilst I listened patiently and waited.
Waited for the inevitable dawning that would eventually unfold John-William’s deeply furrowed brow and it would come, that dreaded argument that saw him get his first ever detention in junior school. Jonah and the whale. I tried hard to politely explain that we were terribly busy but the little guy had blocked his exit and was determined for answers. You see he’d been quite an avid little fan of his religious studies at school, visits to the church and banging out “Onward Christian Soldiers”. But all this had come to an abrupt halt when he learned about Jonah and the whale. Parting oceans, talking donkeys and raising people from the dead were acceptable in his eyes, but being eaten by a whale, surviving inside a whale and then reappearing unscathed was a step too far.
And that day in junior school he stood up and with hands on hips and eyes rolling he told his teacher what he thought about Jonah and the whale. Given half a chance, he still tells people to this day that his belief ended with Jonah and as Paul and I excused ourselves I realised this poor unsuspecting chap was about to get it, chapter and verse.