Sometimes you have to just go with it

The Shepherd’s hut and holiday cottage had to take a back seat as winter viruses descended. Of course, it would be the weekend we were away at an agricultural show where we had some show cattle entered. As a rule, we are not a sickly family and in all fairness Farmer Em has sailed through the last few weeks with no problem at all. The girls on the other hand tried out as many symptoms of a viral infection as they can. I won’t go into details but I will say they played tag for a fortnight, taking it in turns to be poorly, relatively well, and then back to poorly again.

Child 2 held the crown for a while, after fighting off the virus she developed both a chest infection and throat infection and became the first in the family to try out a new antibiotic. She was mainly concerned about the colour of the medicine at this point. She loves the yellow one and hates the red one. The doctor lulled us into a false sense of security by telling us that this medicine was white. Also, it only needed to be taken twice a day and didn’t taste as bad as the red one. ‘Good oh’ we thought and off we went to the chemists, but no! they didn’t have any. So off we went to the next chemists, guess what? They didn’t have any either. Onwards to the next chemists, that’s right, they also did not have any.

Antibiotics

Finally we found some and I delivered the first dose to the child.  I thought I’d better taste it and see what it was like.   The taste wasn’t unpleasant and triggered a memory of something. I couldn’t place it, was trying to think what it could be, when the aftertaste hit me like a tonne of bricks.  It was absolutely vile, really horribly bitter and it lingered, and lingered and, well you get the idea. It lasted the entire 20-minute drive home.

Poor kid had to take it twice a day for 10 days,  she made it through and a full recovery.   At which point her sister developed conjunctivitis, we are now on day 24 of somebody or another being ill.  We are also at my dad’s place staying for a couple of nights.  This means a trip to yet another chemists.  After collecting some eye drops, I feel slightly smug that we have nipped that particular issue in the bud.

The Winter fair

I’m going to digress a little here to explain that we were at my dad’s to break up the journey to the winter fair in Builth Wells.  This is a smaller version of the Royal Welsh show (well it might not be but that’s my explanation) which is a large agricultural show full of competitions, attractions, food and music.  Being a teacher I was never able to go as it is always falls during term time, but I’ve always wanted to see it.  Daisy was of the same opinion as me that it sounded magical and Christmassy and well, winter wonderland-y.  Farmer Emyr is an excellent stockman and likes to show cattle at this type of show, so this year we were able to join him.

Symptoms sneak up

I woke on the Sunday morning with a slightly sore throat.  Late morning, we are back on the road headed for Builth, and there it is, my skin starts to hurt, I have stabbing pains in my joints and that definitely is a proper, real, not in the slightest imaginary sore throat.  For an hour and a half, I drive and dream of a nice hot, honey infused Lemsip (other brands are available and at this point I am most definitely not going to be fussy).  I’m imagining how soothing it’s going to be and how quickly my symptoms will disappear.  Driving across country on narrow windy lanes, I pray for a small shop or a garage where I can buy some.  I dream, drive, and feel rotten.

Finally, we reach the showground area and Em directs me to the garage, some clever parking manoeuvres later and I am in the garage shop, scanning the shelves.  No Lemsip sachets available.  This is not my dream.  They do have tablets however. Less comforting but if they work… I swallow my disappointment, turn the corner and nearly cry at the length of the queue to the till. I fidget and I queue.  It’s only after I’ve dry swallowed and paid for the tablets (in that order) that I notice there’s another shop across the road.  Info filed for future reference and off we go to find Em and our pitch for the next 2 nights.

The Cattle lines

After settling in and making lunch for the girls we wander down to the cattle lines, look at a few cows, chat to lots of people and go for a little look around the show itself.  We didn’t get that far but made a plan of things to look at the next day.  Back to the cattle lines.  This is where the cattle to be shown are tied up, they have lots of straw to sleep on, food and water.  Its also where the pampering, primping, polishing, trimming, blow drying and all sorts of cosmetic magikery happens.  This is where farmers and agriculturally interested people gather, compare, evaluate and chat.  There is A LOT of chatting involved.

Child 1 is a girl after her daddy’s own heart and so she loves chatting and brushing ‘Black boy’ the Welsh Black steer that Farmer Em will take into the show ring the next day.  Child 2 and I are less interested in cattle and chatting for that matter so she occupies herself painting small plaster of paris animals, a monkey, a tiger, a hippo etc.

Socialising and Commerce

Now the other thing that goes on in the cattle lines of a late afternoon and evening (I’m being generous with the timings here) is a fair bit of drinking.  Anything goes, beer, wine, prosecco, whiskey, well you can imagine.  This is where one of my talents comes to the fore, so now everyone is happy.

Child 2 goes on to sell her painted animals, some of them more than once to a collection of merry farmers and ends up making something like twenty-four pounds.  She has no concept of the value of money but she is hooked on selling things and gets very upset when she runs out of stock.  In the meantime, I’m not feeling that great but a G&T is definitely helping me deal with it.

Show day

Fast forward to the next day, everyone is up, dressed and  fed.  I have had my first ever shower in the motorhome – a great success.  That said, now I understand another reason why you want it to be parked on the level; water doesn’t drain uphill you know.  It was so cold in the toilet/shower block that I just couldn’t face showering there.   After a quick, hot shower, lots of coffee and more of those tablets I was ready to face the day.

Another little wander around, backwards and forwards to the cattle lines and I notice that child 1 doesn’t look very well, she was quite tearful earlier on so now I’m starting to worry.

Primping

I might write one day about all the tricks of the trade involved when tarting up a beastie for the show ring, one of them involves shaving foam and an overgrown hairdryer, but let’s just say that the whole process is interminable.  Unless you like that sort of thing, in which case its lots of fun and something to take pride in.  Then begins the seemingly endless wait to go into the waiting area before the entrants go in to the ring itself.

Child 1 holds the steer and also the tickling stick (that’s not the technical term but does what it says) for 20 minutes, half an hour, three quarters of an hour?  I get tired and find a bit of straw to sit on.  I also try to make child 2 sit on my knee to warm me up, I’m so cold now.  She won’t but applies herself instead to saying I’m bored three hundred million times.

The show ring

At last it’s show time and so we go around to get seats at the top of the grandstand to watch Farmer Em and his Welsh Black steer compete.  They win, first prize, fantastic!  But I am trying to cover myself with twins to steal their body heat.  I am teeth chatteringly cold.  We go back around to meet their dad who is covered in glory and surrounded by chatting farmers.  I tell him we are going back to the motorhome to warm up and that we will be back later on to go around the show before we go out for dinner.  I am really looking forward to this.  It’s the best night of the show and a table has been booked for a gang of us.

A good night out?

I put the TV on for the girls, make a hot water bottle and lie down.  Child 1 is ill.  I am ill. We lie on the sofa and don’t get up.  Eventually Farmer Em arrives back, I can’t get up to take any tablets and he has to be directed to make the girl’s dinner.  Child 2, now known as the healthy child is still wallowing in her post antibiotic glow and is very happy not to be ill.

Poorly child and I crawl into bed together at 7pm and stay that way until she is sick at midnight.  This is not the best night ever.  We sort ourselves out and carry on being ill.  She drinks bottles of water and neither of us sleep.  Farmer Em turns up at some time in the small wee hours and tops us up with water, Calpol and tablets.  It’s a long night.

Stuck in the mud

The next day I have to drive us three and a half hour’s home.  Poorly child can’t go to school and I have to ring them to say the other one will  be late because I feel dreadful and also because we are stuck in the mud.  Some swearing later because he has to go back into the ring again, Farmer Em musters several additional farmers and after they apply their muscle, we are back on the tarmac and ready to start our journey home.  Except we can’t, the gates are locked.

The long journey home

I’m not overly fond of reversing a 7 metre vehicle but I can, I do and just as I’m about to head back the way we came a blocks our way.  The tractor is needed to pull out several caravans who are also stuck in the mud.  We end up channelled into a dead end and ring Farmer Em to come and rescue us.  He is not impressed.  But once he has seen the locked gates with his own eyes he drives us back to the cattle lines and the long journey home begins.

Many stops for many reasons later we arrive back home.  I manage to unload the washing and get the machine going but everything else is locked in the motorhome and will stay that way for the next 5 days.  Child 1 and I move to the front room sofa.  Child 2 is going for it, taking full advantage eating penguin biscuits and quavers for almost every meal because I’m too ill to argue or to cook anything for her.  She is loving her life.

Recovery

The next day I am late ringing the doctors.  All the appointments are gone.  I speak to the receptionist and say I suspect we have caught strep throats, could she put is on a cancellation list please?  Hang on, there is a cancellation and we are on the list for a call back.  At 1.20pm I ring again.  They have been super busy but can fit us in at 4.  I collect healthy child from school and off we go.  We do both have strep infections and get matching prescriptions, mine for tablets and Child 1 for the red medicine.  I can’t go through it all again trying to get hold of the white one so we request the red one.

We dash to the chemists where there is a huge queue but we need to get the medicine so we wait.  We are really both pretty poorly by now.  Guess what!  They haven’t got any!  Chips and chocolate cake for the healthy one and with everything crossed I go to our usual chemists.  Hallelujah! They have the red medicine and we can commence treatment immediately.  Its takes 4 days before child 1 starts to improve and 5 before I do.  Dare I say it?  We are all currently well.  I’ve just had my 4th Covid jab and we are definitely hoping that’s it for now.

Can I write 2000 words about illness?  Looks like I can!   Well done you for sticking with it to the end.

Your chance to join us

If you want to know more about the prettification of cattle or anything else to do with animal husbandry, then book a stay in our shepherd’s hut or holiday cottage.  Farmer Em is always happy to show people around and answer any questions, the cake and biscuits will be on me.  If I don’t write again before the 25th then let me wish you the happiest of Christmases and a healthy and prosperous new year.  All the best for 2023 and speak soon.

Cerys