The fog has hemmed us in on the farm on the M62 this week - Jo Thorp

The yard suddenly becomes very small as the sweeping vista remains hidden for days on end.

Spider’s webs, illuminated with the droplets of moisture covering them seem to hang between every blade of grass, on the wire fencing and hedgerows, but the sun never makes an appearance.

It seems the strange summer that we’ve had this year has left us and autumn is definitely here. I noticed to my dismay that the shops are already allowing Christmas to creep in.

I’d reluctantly headed into a large, well known supermarket at the weekend, desperately searching for some unbranded PE shorts for the little guy.

I couldn’t help but notice that whilst there was a depressing lack of British produce in the fruit and veg section with many shelves completely bare, there were shelves overcrowded with Halloween tat and Christmas selection packs.

I found some PE shorts and left, amazed at myself for getting frustrated at the supermarkets complete lack of support for British farmers.

The little guy’s first week of high school has gone remarkably well. The shorts and casual attire are no more as he seems to have readily accepted the more formal uniform.

He is almost unrecognisable in his long trousers, smart leather shoes and a stiff collared shirt and tie. So far there has been no phone call from school, no letter home and thankfully no tearful goodbyes at the school gates.

He hops on the school bus and heads off for the day looking very grown up and enjoying his independence.

Paul is flat out getting lambs ready for market and can be found most days either in the sorting shed or in a sale ring.

I’ve had the hard word from him about my ever increasing flock of Bluefaced Leicester ewes and am under strict instructions to do something about it!

I’ve begrudgingly agreed to let him take a small handful of ewe lambs and shearlings to a breed sale towards the end of the month.

However, the best sale of the year is less than four weeks away and despite his constant moaning and whining about my Leicester girls, the flock size will remain about what it is when I hit the breed sale up at Hawes!

With the log burner blazing away and a cup of tea in one hand, I spent an evening perusing the catalogue for Hawes whilst Paul’s frown deepened, the tapping of his fingers on the arm of his chair increased.

I threw a few expressions of surprise and some “oohs and aahs” until he eventually hurled his Classic tractor magazine to the floor. He stomped into the kitchen shaking his head whilst realising at the same time, he was beaten.

He knew that come that first Thursday in October, we would be heading to Hawes with an empty trailer and at some point later that day, we would return with a full one!