I think that is the angle on it these days Dovefromabove, look at what businesses can be run from the property to subsidise it, rather than hoping it will pay for itself or even make a profit.
Training courses in my line of business can be rather lucrative and as it involves outdoor field work, this could tie in nicely with owning a larger smallholding/smaller farm and extra accommodation. I also thought of country craft type courses, most of the ones I've looked at are fairly expensive to go on.
That way I'm covered financially and if it came to a point where I really couldn't do the physical work I could pay to get stuff done.
As I'd grown up on a farm and been a Young Farmers Club member, I'd got quite a few practical skills, particularly re animal husbandry. I took a few short courses re keeping sheep, lambing etc at the local agricultural college.
Later on I worked for Social Services until retirement - at my annual appraisal when looking at transferable skills my manager was sure that if she thought hard she could find a use for my qualification in castration .........
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
It was wonderful Pdoc, I loved it, it was at the end of a little lane in the little village where we'd lived for years and the wildlife was wonderful too - I could tell so many stories but it was totally knackering once husband got bored with it and discovered golf (and charity work abroad) and then I had a health problem so it was time to stop - property prices had gone up and we'd improved the property, so that was ok too.
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
This is a picture of the windmill after the sails had been lost. By this time the sails were powering milling machinery housed in a nearby building. You can just see the wheel and belt going from the mill towards a building out of picture on the right. Then the sails had been lost and the mill tower itself was been partially demolished and replaced with a substantial range of two story brick buildings housing quite a large electrically powered milling set up. The little branch railway line had terminated in the mill yard - however when that was closed by Beeching the business became unviable - it limped on for years becoming more and more rundown - I think the business eventually became bankrupt.
By the time we bought the property the old railway embankment had become totally overgrown with scrub and was the home of foxes, adders and so much other wildlife - absolute bliss.
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
I've seen it happen many times. People buy into their dreams with a bit of land when they retire. The land they have is too much as they grow older, but too little for any neighbouring farmer to rent or take a crop of hay off. They have then added the worry of the land and what to do with it.
As my OH and I get older the upkeep of our big garden in a very rural setting is becoming onerous. We are seriously thinking about moving to where there is a nearby station, shops, bus route and hospital for when we can't drive. Horrible, getting old isn't it?
I had a similar experience to Dove. When I was young my parents bought a farmhouse surrounded by the farm and it's land, although my father wasn't a farmer. The farmer had built himself a smaller easier to manage house. I was one of 6 children. I was lucky enough to have a New Forest pony.
My first OH bought a farmhouse in Kent. It was a registered smallholding and I bred and milked (by hand) Jersey cows, just a couple, enough to have milk, cheese and rear calves to sell in the market when they were a year old. I also had chickens, ducks and guinea fowl and a big veggie garden. I had sheep for a bit too, but they were good at escaping, weren't mine so gave them back to their owner. It too was subsidised by my husband, didn't sell much apart from eggs and calves. I used to give surplus veg to the old people's home in the village. It felt good growing so much of our own food, but we couldn't eat the lovely ducks! I had John Seymour's book on self sufficiency.
We had 4 children and I thought it was a lovely place for them to grow up. But my husband owned a big dental surgery in London and had a long journey to work, so he got stressed and we moved to France, which he loved. He bought a practice here but died of a heart attack aged 53 in '98.
Dordogne and Norfolk. Clay in Dordogne, sandy in Norfolk.
Not for me though: I don't get on with animals . But DO read John Serymour's books on self-sufficiency, especially the bit where he says that it's hard work and you never have a holiday, as one or two others have mentioned. Good luck.
Dove, enjoyed reading all that and it brought back memories, going up to bring the cows down for milking, we had a machine filter and cooler by then, before it was by hand. Uncle Arthur would lift me onto the lead cow to ride back down to the byre, ever rode a cow? it is painful. The horses were Suffolk Punch and two Cleveland Bays all working horses as both Dad and my Uncle did not want a tractor which had to be shared with two other farms in wartime. We would ride bare back and fell off a few times, get back on was the best way. We had goats for milk and made cheese, some of the milk was sold in the village supposedly good for children with certain illnesses I hated the cheese. We churned our butter so no shortage during the war as I flatly refused to eat the Margarine yuck. Cream was produced in the dairy by putting out shallow bowls filling them with milk and letting the cream rise, the dairy was tiled out and cool, nets went over the bowls to keep the flying wild life off. All meat and fowl were slaughtered on the farm or our own small holding and Goose was the Christmas meal every year. Saying all that Dad was in business and Mother a dress maker until she was called to war work at the local Bomber Base as an electrician in the women's quarters that meant I had to look after the feeding of the animals young as I was.
A tail piece, was stationed at Cavalry Barracks in York they gave me a big old horse that had been badly handled, he knew all the tricks leaning against you and pushing up against the stable wall as I brushed him down and you had to watch as he would nip you as you passed. We ended up friends as unlike some spurs and whip were not my way of doing things and when I moved on he was put out to grass at a sanctuary, I hope he lived a long and pleasant life there after.
Yes Frank I've ridden a cow - Pa kept Red Polls and Dairy Shorthorns and when I was little I was sometimes put up for a ride as they came into the parlour. When we moved to Suffolk we no longer had cattle (pigs, poultry and arable then) but the farm next door was a dairy farm and I sometimes used to go and play there - I remember the shallow bowls of cream being put on the edge of the Aga to make clotted cream (not just in Devon and Cornwall in those days). The thing is the farmer's wife loved longhaired cats so the cream she gave us often included a few moggie hairs. They still had working horses next door too, so sometimes I was allowed to ride them as they hauled the tumble (Suffolk muck cart) . It was a sad day when that farmer retired and the horses were no longer next door.
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
Posts
I think that is the angle on it these days Dovefromabove, look at what businesses can be run from the property to subsidise it, rather than hoping it will pay for itself or even make a profit.
Training courses in my line of business can be rather lucrative and as it involves outdoor field work, this could tie in nicely with owning a larger smallholding/smaller farm and extra accommodation. I also thought of country craft type courses, most of the ones I've looked at are fairly expensive to go on.
That way I'm covered financially and if it came to a point where I really couldn't do the physical work I could pay to get stuff done.
As I'd grown up on a farm and been a Young Farmers Club member, I'd got quite a few practical skills, particularly re animal husbandry. I took a few short courses re keeping sheep, lambing etc at the local agricultural college.
Later on I worked for Social Services until retirement - at my annual appraisal when looking at transferable skills my manager was sure that if she thought hard she could find a use for my qualification in castration .........
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
Love your story Dove, it must have been quite an adventure.
When you don't even know who's in the team
S.Yorkshire/Derbyshire border
It was wonderful Pdoc, I loved it, it was at the end of a little lane in the little village where we'd lived for years and the wildlife was wonderful too
- I could tell so many stories 
but it was totally knackering once husband got bored with it and discovered golf (and charity work abroad) and then I had a health problem so it was time to stop - property prices had gone up and we'd improved the property, so that was ok too.
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
This is a picture of the windmill after the sails had been lost. By this time the sails were powering milling machinery housed in a nearby building. You can just see the wheel and belt going from the mill towards a building out of picture on the right. Then the sails had been lost and the mill tower itself was been partially demolished and replaced with a substantial range of two story brick buildings housing quite a large electrically powered milling set up. The little branch railway line had terminated in the mill yard - however when that was closed by Beeching the business became unviable - it limped on for years becoming more and more rundown - I think the business eventually became bankrupt.
By the time we bought the property the old railway embankment had become totally overgrown with scrub and was the home of foxes, adders and so much other wildlife - absolute bliss.
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
As my OH and I get older the upkeep of our big garden in a very rural setting is becoming onerous. We are seriously thinking about moving to where there is a nearby station, shops, bus route and hospital for when we can't drive. Horrible, getting old isn't it?
I had a similar experience to Dove. When I was young my parents bought a farmhouse surrounded by the farm and it's land, although my father wasn't a farmer. The farmer had built himself a smaller easier to manage house. I was one of 6 children. I was lucky enough to have a New Forest pony.
My first OH bought a farmhouse in Kent. It was a registered smallholding and I bred and milked (by hand) Jersey cows, just a couple, enough to have milk, cheese and rear calves to sell in the market when they were a year old. I also had chickens, ducks and guinea fowl and a big veggie garden. I had sheep for a bit too, but they were good at escaping, weren't mine so gave them back to their owner. It too was subsidised by my husband, didn't sell much apart from eggs and calves. I used to give surplus veg to the old people's home in the village. It felt good growing so much of our own food, but we couldn't eat the lovely ducks! I had John Seymour's book on self sufficiency.
We had 4 children and I thought it was a lovely place for them to grow up. But my husband owned a big dental surgery in London and had a long journey to work, so he got stressed and we moved to France, which he loved. He bought a practice here but died of a heart attack aged 53 in '98.
Great stories, Dove & Lizze
Not for me though: I don't get on with animals
. But DO read John Serymour's books on self-sufficiency, especially the bit where he says that it's hard work and you never have a holiday, as one or two others have mentioned. Good luck.
Dove, enjoyed reading all that and it brought back memories, going up to bring the cows down for milking, we had a machine filter and cooler by then, before it was by hand. Uncle Arthur would lift me onto the lead cow to ride back down to the byre, ever rode a cow? it is painful. The horses were Suffolk Punch and two Cleveland Bays all working horses as both Dad and my Uncle did not want a tractor which had to be shared with two other farms in wartime. We would ride bare back and fell off a few times, get back on was the best way. We had goats for milk and made cheese, some of the milk was sold in the village supposedly good for children with certain illnesses I hated the cheese. We churned our butter so no shortage during the war as I flatly refused to eat the Margarine yuck. Cream was produced in the dairy by putting out shallow bowls filling them with milk and letting the cream rise, the dairy was tiled out and cool, nets went over the bowls to keep the flying wild life off. All meat and fowl were slaughtered on the farm or our own small holding and Goose was the Christmas meal every year. Saying all that Dad was in business and Mother a dress maker until she was called to war work at the local Bomber Base as an electrician in the women's quarters that meant I had to look after the feeding of the animals young as I was.
A tail piece, was stationed at Cavalry Barracks in York they gave me a big old horse that had been badly handled, he knew all the tricks leaning against you and pushing up against the stable wall as I brushed him down and you had to watch as he would nip you as you passed. We ended up friends as unlike some spurs and whip were not my way of doing things and when I moved on he was put out to grass at a sanctuary, I hope he lived a long and pleasant life there after.
Frank.
Yes Frank I've ridden a cow - Pa kept Red Polls and Dairy Shorthorns and when I was little I was sometimes put up for a ride as they came into the parlour. When we moved to Suffolk we no longer had cattle (pigs, poultry and arable then) but the farm next door was a dairy farm and I sometimes used to go and play there - I remember the shallow bowls of cream being put on the edge of the Aga to make clotted cream (not just in Devon and Cornwall in those days). The thing is the farmer's wife loved longhaired cats so the cream she gave us often included a few moggie hairs. They still had working horses next door too, so sometimes I was allowed to ride them as they hauled the tumble (Suffolk muck cart) . It was a sad day when that farmer retired and the horses were no longer next door.
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.