My life is getting busier with every day that passes. We now have eight sheep in our back field. Four are Texel cross and four are Leicester cross. These I am getting in exchange for some winter grazing and a concrete trough. The barter system is alive and kicking up here. Later today three Jacob sheep are due to arrive. I asked for two but the farmer is throwing in an extra one for luck.

It is raining and raining and then snowing some. Our yard is deep in clarty mud – the kind that really sticks to your boots. Our fields are awash with water as puddles turn to ponds. We no longer have a track: we now have a river to negotiate. Despite this I need to get out and see to all these animals: muck out the horse’s stable, prepare the wee byre for the Jacob sheep, attempt to mend a leak in the turf roof of the hen house.

While I am mucking out I try to figure out a better place to put the muck heap. I need to move it out of the main yard where it is beginning to take up too much space and dominate the visual impact. When my brother was here for New Year (a wild time in these parts – and I don’t mean the weather) he suggested that it should go along the outside wall of the garden. Then the matured compost can be easily tossed over onto the vegetable patch. I need to break through a bit of fencing for this to be feasible but I agree that it is a good idea. Shifting the whole muck heap will certainly keep me busy and warm for a couple of hours.

A brief break in the interminable rain makes me want to jump on my horse for a ride to the beach. Two horse riding friends phone to say they are heading up my way, so we arrange to meet. One of the other horses is a Friesian stallion. This is one of the oldest horse breeds in Europe, indigenous to the Netherlands and traditionally used for farm and harness work. His 16hh glossy black muscular physique is impressive and rather scary. Last time I rode out in company with him, he got a wee bit over-excited and mounted my horse – I was suddenly and frighteningly aware of having a large black leg on either side of my saddle. I’ll admire his beauty from a distance today.

Home again and there is just time to shift a newly delivered tonne of coal from the yard to the byre before splashing my way down the track with two wet, muddy, bouncy pups to meet the school bus. Shifting coal is a dismal task that inspires visions of an oil-fired heating system. A constantly warm stove to lean against and cook in and hang washing above is definitely top of my wish list.

Meanwhile I now have sheep and I have a sheepdog puppy. Something springs to mind. I’m off to see a man about a dog.