This is the farmhouse at Lime End. Parts of it date back to the 17th century. Inside it you will find rooms with big oak beams exposed, a warm, grand room, with comfortable, overstuffed chairs, a big fireplace, a second floor where you can crack your head if you're not careful.
If your timing is right you'll also find my cousin John, his wife Helen, and if you wander into the other half of the house (which I have not been in) you may meet Matthew and Liz, his wife.
Your timing would have be right because, much of the time they are out and about doing all the things it takes to manage a farm that has about 1500 acres of fields, with close to 600 dairy cows. And we're here in calving season, so its extra busy.
These are Bella and Lilly, two of the four dogs at Lime End.
This is Benjamin, the third of four dogs.
I have not been able to get a picture of Molly, the fourth dog. She is however Lilly's daughter, and looks similar. So go with that for now. Getting all four into one shot is near impossible. I'm not going to try.
These are some of the new calves at Lime End.
As I mentioned, it is calving season and everyone is quite busy with it, especially the cows.
I'd never really thought about it before but dairy cows ideally calve once per year, that's what keeps them producing their milk afterall. Yes, they can produce milk without having a calf every year, but it does dwindle off, so ideally, calf a year.
With close to 600 cows, even though not all of them are calving, you can see how it gets kinda busy.
This is another of the pens at Lime End farm, just waiting for more calves to arrive.
This is Herstmonceux Castle.
It is quite near the farm. Of the 1,500 acres used by Lime End Farm, 300 or so are owned outright and the other 1,200 are rented from various places. Herstmonceux is one of those places.
Aside from being a lovely castle, Herstmonceux is home to Queen's University Canada's campus in the UK. The castle was given to Queen's in, I think, 1993 or 1994, a time when I happened to be studying music and theatre there. "There" being in Kingston Ontario, not Sussex England. So yes, my alma mater abroad as it were.
I don't know the school song.
Herstmonceux was also home to The Greenwich Royal Observatory for a period of time. It moved here from Greenwich in London, (you saw pictures of it the other day of you've been keeping up) in the early fifties. Here is an interesting article on the subject that also chats about the castle a bit.
This is, from left to right: John, Helen, Jake, and Noah.
You already know Jake and Noah, so they need no further introduction. Though, what you may not know is that today is Jake's birthday. He is 14. Happy Birthday Jake!
John and Helen both grew up in roughly the same neighbourhood. At the age of 3 John and his family move to Lime End farm and Helen grew up in Eastbourne, about 20 minutes away. They met in their teens and have been together ever since. I like these kinds of stories by the way.
I don't know how to figure cousins. I call John my cousin as it is easiest. In actual fact he is my father's cousin. John's father, Bernie, was Henry, my father's father's, youngest brother. There father, my father's grandfather, and therefore my great grand father, was Jabez. So I just looked up the math and the answer is John is my first cousin once removed, because he is my father's cousin and "removed" has to do with the number of generations we are from the common ancestor, Jabez in this case, and as I am two generations removed, and John is one generation removed, then that makes us first cousins, once removed. That then makes Matthew, John's son and I, second cousins, as we are the same generations removed from our common ancestor (still Jabez), but are our cousins via our parents being cousins.
Clear as mud?
I could try and explain better myself but the words I just read are way better so I'll just include them here.
In your case, the common ancestor is your great grandfather. Both your father and his cousin are separated from your great grandfather by ONE generation (for your father, it is your grandfather -- for your father's cousin, it is your great Aunt or Uncle). Thus they are 1st cousins (1 generation separation from common ancestor).
The "removed" is the additional generations, if any, separating the second person (further away) from the common ancestor with YOU, your father's cousin is still closest to the common ancestor, 1 generation separation, so you and your father's cousin are still 1st cousins.
BUT you are TWO generations separated from the common ancestor (your father and grandfather). So the difference (2-1=1) is the removed number. So you and your father's cousin are 1st cousins once removed.
BUT, your father's cousins CHILD would now be two generations removed from the common ancestor --- as you are two generations removed. So you and your father's cousin's child are 2nd cousins. And since you are both 2 generations separated, there is no "removed" as 2-2=0.
They came from here.
So, for further clarity, this means that:
Noah and Jake are John's 1st cousins twice removed. Why? They remain first cousins because the common ancester, Jabez is now three from them, and one from John (3-1=2).
Noah and Jake are second cousins once removed from Matthew. 3-2=1 for the "removed" and that other crazy math that I still don't quite get theoretically but can apply practically. I'm usually the other way with math.
Now the fun thing is that:
1. People enjoyed this breakfast conversation, and
2. We decided that, with all this family coming over today that we'd actually figure out how we're all related and write it out.
Yay!
Onward.
This is a windmill off in the distance, on, appropriately enough, Windmill Hill.
If you hadn't picked it up by now, after picking us up at the train station in Polegate we took a scenic route back to the farm, but then basically got our stuff in the room and headed out for a bit of a tour of the area.
Above is one of the many herds of cows out and about in the fields. They are all clustered together near the gate because, I believe, they were expecting someone to be coming along and providing them with some additional food stuffs. The look we got for not being those people was an excellent indicator that cows are far brighter than I was lead to believe Icelandic sheep (and apparently most sheep) are.
This is Herstmonceux All-Saints. Its bits date back to the 12th century, and up into the 16th century, and it sits where the original town of Herstmonceux was. Herstmonceux is now a couple of miles north, nearer the castle, having likely moved there at some point in the 15th century.
Hilda, John's aunt, and therefore my great aunt (I have often wondered why they skipped grand aunt) is buried here with her husband. Hilda was the oldest of my paternal grand father's generation, and outlasted all her sibling, living till the most respectible age of 95. John suspects that, since she had spent so much time when she was younger keeping an eye out for all of them, that she decided to hang around until all of her siblings had past so that they wouldn't get into any serious trouble without her there.
Below is a brass effigy of a knight, in the floor near the altar within the church. There is latin below it, outside of frame, that I expect may explain it a bit, but whatever. I'll get google to translate it for me another time.
This is the sort of thing that people like to take rubbings of. My mother has a rubbing of a similar brass knight that my brother did one time when on a trip to the ROM (Royal Ontario Musuem). I always wanted to, but never got the chance to do one. Today was not that day. The effigy is actually normally hidden by the carpet that you can see rolled up at the top of the picture. John and Helen knew it was there, so rolled the carpet up to show us.
And this is why travelling with locals is a good thing.
Below is the Dacre effigy, also in Herstmonceux All-Saints. The effigy is for Thomas Hoo, Lord of Hoo and Hastings, and his son Thomas Hoo his half-brother (and this is my other brother Daryl), and dates back to the late 15th century, or C15 as all of these websites I am reading these days seem to use as a shorthand. The Hoo's are someone connected with the Dacre's. Find Dr. Seuss to explain it to you, I haven't sorted it out yet.
No, not me. John had asked whether the boys would be interested. Both were, however Noah declined this particular opportunity, so off Jake went to drive another jeep around the field.
A nice safe distance lest he desire to runneth over his brother or I.
And proof that is indeed Jake, who now knows more about driving a car than I do, behind the wheel. Yes, it's on the opposite side. England. Remember?
These are some of the ducks. Ralph has a couple types of ducks, and I believe these are Alyesbury, if my sketchy memory and comparisons to pictures on another website are correct.
You can assume that caveat for the rest of them too.
I believe Ralph said that this was a russian breed of chicken, and perhaps an Orloff. Looking at pictures of other Orloffs though, they seem to be way more speckled, so I am likely wrong.
I don't know. I was so hoping to be able to impress you all with the breeds of these different chickens, but I can't. My memory is not that good. They were all running around at the time without their name tags on. There are way too many types of chickens to try and compare. Pick your excuse for me from the above, or make one up and share with the group. And yes, I know what I'm opening myself up for when I say that. Go for it. Just remember my mom is reading this.
And another nameless chicken. We'll call her Mabel. As you can see she is not on the table so you can still pay for your beer.
Perhaps I should be taking notes. Helen pulled out a couple of Michael Palin's travel books the other evening and I was thumbing through one about the Sahara as we'll be going to Marrakech and seeing what a former Python thinks of the place seemed like a rather splendid idea. Besides, I like him.
Palin at one point comments on how he is furiously trying to take notes about what people are telling him.
Right, I could take notes. Nah.
Truthfully, as these books are off shoots from his popular travel shows on TV, I suspect there is audio for everything, a crew of writers and researchers, and lord knows who else aiding the capture and organization of information. Nothing against Michael. I believe he takes notes, and he is an excellent writer for sure. Flying Circus? Beat that if you can.
Anyway, that's all to say that I will not be spending the rest of the year with note book in hand trying to write down everything everyone says. I wouldn't be able to read it afterwards anyway as my script is appauling.
Bunnies.
These were actually in the field at Herstmonceux All-Saints, but I thought I would put them here to stop myself from continuing on about taking notes.
The hands you see below are those of Ralph. In his right hand are nice clean chicken eggs he had, moments before, retrieved from the coop. In his left are dirty duck eggs retrieved at the same time. Why clean and dirty? Apparently ducks just walk all over theirs. Chickens don't.
The next day (we're on to Friday now) was a quiet morning with me blogging (I actually posted two yesterday in case you aren't checking every twelve hours) and the boys continuing school work.
After a late lunch, John set off to look into the hay and Helen, Noah, Jake and I set off to see more of the area.
This was our first stop, Pevensey Castle. Pevensey Castle is a medieval castle, and prior to that it was a Roman Saxon shore fort. Yes, the shore came up to the castle back in the day. The shore is now about 8km away, or 5 miles if you're in England. Yes, they use the mile. For some reason I figured they would use the metric system. Now I just went into the pantry to check, and they use metric for food stuffs it would appear, but not for distance. Maybe its an EU thing.
Anyway, here is the castle, taken by the Normans as part of the very famous 1066 invasion. It is one of several that dotted the shore, acting as a defensive first line. The area is referred to actually as 1066 land, as we're near Hastings, and well, this is where William the Conqueror did his conqueroring thing.
This is a surprised looking tower at the bridge to the castle. Perhaps it thought that Harold II was going to win.
We didn't go into the grounds. They charge admission for it and none of us really felt like seeing the insides. That said, it is also part of the English Heritage collection of buildings. These are historical sites throughout the land that, if you get your annual English Heritage membership, you can visit for free. Think of it as a London Pass, but for all of England. There is also an expanded version that gets you all of Scotland and Wales as well. Something to consider if you're coming over for awhile and like this sort of thing.
This is St. Mary's. It's a Norman church built in 1080 AD. It is a flint and stone church, so similar in materials to what we were seeing in Canterbury.
This is a sheep across the road from St. Mary's.
We then headed along to Eastbourne, which is right on the sea. You can't actually see the sea from the harbour we pulled in to as there is quite the build up of residences and shops all around it.
But once you get moving and driving along you do get to see the sea, and the piers, parks, and promenades that run along side it.
Above is Eastbourne pier. In the distance you can see some of the lovely architecture of the arcades on this pier. Closer in you can see the skeleton of the main arcade that caught fire earlier this week. Tragic.
Below is one of the many rock beaches in and around Eastbourne. The wooden walls and posts that head out into the sea are called Groyne's and are used to help limit the waterflow and keep the rocks where they are.
We took the time to walk along them for a bit. Helen, having grown up in Eastbourne used to come down to the beach quite often, but its been a while since she had done so last.
We got ice cream. It was an afternoon for ice cream.
We then continued on along to the coast to Beachy Head. It is the highest chalk sea cliff in Britain, rising over 160 metres above sea level. So no, that is not a model lighthouse, it is a real one.
Beachy Head is just east of the Seven Sisters. The Seven Sisters are a series of seven chalk cliffs. I have no idea why they are called this, but this is somewhere I've known about for several years, and again, I have no idea why. So, while I didn't know we were actually near them, I was happy that we were and got to see them and wander a little bit on the shores closer to them.
Noah and Jake though spent their time on the beach closer to shore, so were not in danger of having loose rocks or a house fall on their heads.
From there we went to see the White Horse of Cuckmere Valley. There are many chalk horses throughout England. Some do even date back to prehistoric times. That said, many more are far more recent, having been done in the 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th centuries. This one was done about 80 years ago or so I am told. I am still waiting for John to tell me the story that Helen promised me he would, and if I get a chance I'll share it with you at some point.
But its nice that they're still doing this sort of thing. Apparently some of the more famous ones get used for various publicity stunts and advertisements.
Now this one is the Long Man of Wilmington, that has been thought to be from neolithic period (so really old). Apparently though some now think it is more likely to be 17 or 18th century AD. So around the age of the kitchen I am sitting in. Both have been modernized over time. The kitchen has all the modern stuff, and the giant is now, instead of being carved right in, a series of white blocks. It's nearly 70 metres tall.
The boys, having been asked not to climb a nearby tree, instead got atop this wall, which is a remnant of the priory of Wilmington.
Then it was back to the farm for a dinner of fish 'n chips, which we picked up on the way home. A little after dinner, as it was getting on towards 8pm or so, John turned in as he needed to get up at 3am to milk the cows. He doesn't do it every day as he has someone who comes in during the week, but Saturday is his morning for it, so an early night it would be.
Helen takes a walk out in what I now think of as the calving field in the evenings, usually around 8pm and then again before bed, closer to 11pm. She does not get up at 3am.
We had joined her Thursday night and it was all quiet. Friday night though it got a bit busier. Helen had gone out, helped one cow calve, and then came back in to collect us before going for her walk as she expected another one was coming along quite soon.
We all headed out and sure enough, there was Pointless Jordie with two little legs sticking out of her where you don't normally expect to see hooves. Pointless Jordie, or number 2555 as I knew her then, was well on her way, but really didn't want us around, so we continued our stroll through the field. Well, Helen and I continued. It was at this point that Noah and Jake decided to return to the house.
All the cows are numbered for easy reference. But they also all have names that, while sometimes quite long and bizarre, are used to track who their mom and grand mum and as many as you can get on the form are, and what dad, farm or breeding stock they came from. This helps keep track of who is related to who and by how much. That said, I have no idea how it works for their cousins.
Helen and I did a walk around the field, and everyone else there was pretty relaxed. Arriving back with PJ she was having pretty big contractions, and the legs were a bit more out, but she was still happy doing it on her own. Helen had checked the feet earlier and could tell from them that the positioning was right, so there was likely no need to intervene.
And apparently Helen was right. PJ stood up, turned around, and sat back down so she was facing us. We, still chatting, turned away to look at something else. We then turned back to find the following:
PJ is licking little PJ clean. And she continued to do so for about 30 minutes. She got her very, very clean.
From head to toe and back again, and back again.
During this time other cows came over to check it out, make sure all was well, offer congratulations, smoke a cigar, and slap one another on the back. Okay, maybe not, but they did come over and all had caring looks of concern on their very large faces. Or perhaps that is just how cows look. Apparently though they do check in on each other, and in some cases, they get confused, and think that the new born calf is theirs, even though they haven't given birth yet.
Odd.
After about 30 miutes LPJ, who will get her own number and name that has something to do with Pointless Jordie sometime soon I suspect, got up and took her first couple of steps.
And then it was time for bed.
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