The Sheep's Stell

August 2024. Good Morning from My Life in the Wind.

When I was in London, I used to seek out opportunities for lambing because I had a plan to get out and work on a sheep farm - I did lambing every year in Sussex but I also did a few springs for an old shepherdess called Janet White.

She was in her 90’s when I first met her; tiny and shrewd, she lived in this beautiful old house in the Quantock Hills. It was big and simply furnished and I remember being shocked by her collection of soap by the sink; an old plastic yoghurt pot full of tiny slithers of old soap, she was using every last bit until they ran out.

Once, when I climbed the stairs to bed she said  “watch out for bats in your room”  👀. At the time it felt like a rather primitive way to live but I now realise we could all learn a lot from the way she lived (maybe not the bats).

She had twinkly eyes and on first glance you might think ‘oh, this poor little old lady’ but she was well travelled, extremely well read, sharp as a tack and had clearly been a beauty in her day. Deaf as a doorpost, she not miss a trick and would be quick to point out if you had missed a trick.

I was introduced to her by a family friend who was her literary agent. She’d written a book (published twice) about her experience on a remote island hill farm, off the coast of NZ. She had come from an intellectual family but was hell bent on being a farmer so that’s what she pursued. The book is a riveting read - total isolation with a rather unhinged admirer - there is a part of the story which has a gripping, scary twist.

The first time I lambed for her, it snowed heavily (in March). I was really driven but also quite burnt out in my London job and so being snowed in on a hill farm I didn’t know was exactly what I needed. Every night I trudged up the quiet country lane in the middle of the night to one of her lambing sheds, nothing but me, the moon and her dog and I remember being struck by how safe I felt.

It was heaven. When the snow cleared I went to Sainsbury’s in Taunton and bought her a few bars of really posh soap. This confused her - she had plenty of soap!

Her son messaged me a few months ago to tell me she had died. I had had been slow at responding to her previous email and had contacted her only a few weeks before saying that I was selling knitwear full time now (she was always supportive of my sheep farming dream but wasn’t convinced I could make any money out of wool). Excellent at staying in touch with people via her iPad she would often email me property listings of small houses with a little patch of land so that I could pursue my sheep enterprise. I thought she would be so pleased to hear that my jumpers were actually going somewhere.

I presume she hadn’t read my last email and I am annoyed now that I didn’t contact her sooner. She lived in a different age but she will always make me think of having plenty of grit and following your dreams. I think she would be pleased to know that I was recommending it to you all! It’s called The Sheep Stell.