Ed Dowding

Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air
In his own ground.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire;
Whose trees in summer yield shade,
In winter, fire.

Blest, who can unconcern’dly find
Hours, days, and years, slide soft away
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day.

Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mixed; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.

Solitude. by Alexander Pope

Not only have Waitrose just topped the list of most ethical supermarkets but they’ve also just called me up to give me a bunch of free wood.

I was there the other day filling up with petrol, and they had something sitting in a huge wooden crate next to the car wash, so I asked if they had plans for the wood once they’d unpacked it.

They didn’t know, so I left a number, and they’ve just called up, three days later, and said it’s ready for pickup if I’d like it!

Ace! Thanks, Waitrose!

I think it’s safe to tell you what’s going on, now. Enough of the elements are firmly in place.

We’re setting up a small-holding in West Lexham, Norfolk, on 2 acres of land. We will be suppling food to, and helping out with the development of, the new sustainability centre which is being developed there, renovating an old farm (photos, and more about the plans).

Ali has taken up the offer of a full-time job with the UN Principles for Responsible Investment. They are a WONDERFUL organisation who have found a very successful way of enculturing civilisation amongst the financial sector by asking them to adhere to a set of principles. I’m very proud. It’s changing the world in a huge and subtle way.

In addition to some interesting and fun interface design work with an old employer, I’m rekindling Online Personal Assistant. I’m also going to be doing a permaculture course in October for a few weeks.

Our field is just across the road from our house (annotated map) and so very easy to get to. It slopes away to the south, so catches lots of sun, and is bordered on all sides by trees, with many large oaks. It’s a lovely place to be working.

We hope to be getting our first pigs in a month or so, once we’ve re-fenced, and obtained our DEFRA licences. About the same time you will be able to invest in Lexham Farm* Pork Futures, wherein you invest in your pig now, and when it’s ready we supply you with discounted, organic, packed-and-delivered rare-breed pork, butchered and prepared to your wishes. Alas we’re unlikely to have any ready before Christmas, but if we can, you’ll be the first to know.

If you’re thinking – as I know some of you will be, “Sustainability centre? That sounds a bit wafty / dull / predictable / ambitious ..” Then you will probably be reassured by the same fact which first drew me to it: it’s all taking place on the family estate of one of the chaps who established the Secret Garden Party, Ed Colville. This immediately speaks volumes about its vibrancy, and potential to ignite the imagination, whilst being economically sustainable.

If you’re thinking “Sustainability centre? What does that even mean?” then there is an Open Weekend happening on 25-26th September where we’ll talk about what the place is going to be. (In essence, we’re currently looking at a sort of social / rural enterprise Hub type setup, coupled with courses, events, and erm.. things. A blend of renaissance enterprise, the Centre for Alternative Technology without too much geekery, and Findhorn without too much herbally-infused expressive dance)  If you’re disposed, it would be lovely to see you. There will be festivities, tours around the buildings and gardens, camping, and probably swimming if it’s warm. I’ll post more details about this later, but save the date.

I was up at the farm yesterday, emptying the car from our journey back from France, and it’s really very lovely. It’s going to great up there. Everything is right on the doorstep: barns, toolsheds, fields, good people, and just 90 minutes into central London and 30 minutes to the beach. Ideal, really.

* Or whatever it ends up being called. Any ideas? We’ll decide after the Open Weekend.

There have been lots of coincidences, serendipity, and small-world moments during these last few weeks.

Exactly a week, almost to the hour, after the end of our experience chez Jimmy’s Farm, I was helping a farmer friend with a little challenge:

1. There is a field with some cows in it.
2. We have some hurdles.
3. We need to make a pen.
4. We need to herd the cows into the pen.
5. We need to select the small bull from the herd, and put it into a trailer.

The small bull (let’s call him Randy) we needed was following around a big old cow called Rita, who was the most fertile of the herd. She also had a calf. So if we focus on getting the calf into the pen (which was easy enough to build), then Rita would follow, and Randy would follow Rita.

It worked a treat. We moved nice and slowly and let them take their time, stood in the right places to funnel them suitably, and then swooped quickly to pull the hurdles together, to close the opening we’d made to let them into the pen.

So there we all are. Rita, her calf, and Randy all in the pen together. Tidy job, plenty of time left to spare.

“Are these going to be OK without a pin [to hold the hurdles together]?” I asked the very experienced and successful farmer.

“No, that’ll be fine. Come and hold the gate here whilst I drive him out.” And since the hurdles are pretty heavy, and appeared to the eye to be closed, it seemed like a reasonable assertion.

I went to do the gate. Nameless Farmer started moving the cows towards the gate. Randy turns … and bolts out of the pen the way he’d come in, straight through the unpinned hurdles.

Alas I’m contractually prevented from telling you quite how similar this was to the events of a week before, but I just wanted to salve my indefatigably tiresome ego by telling this story of how the seasoned professionals make mistakes, too.

It’s also worth mentioning, again for the sake of my ego if nothing else, that things only become problems if you don’t have the nous – or have not allowed yourself sufficient time – to rectify them.  We simply had a longer-than-expected chat, repeated what we’d done before, rounded them up, got them in the pen, pinned it, put the bull in the trailer, and were home in time for dinner.

Pretty much everyone wise who has picked up a pen for the topic of happiness seems to agree that it lies in the simplest of pleasures, mostly coalescing around the contentment of our animal selves.