Episode 5 This Farming Life

Across some of the most beautiful

and remote landscapes of the British Isles...

It's not a bad office, is it? You know, look at it.

..Scotland's farmers carve a living.

Everything has a time and a season. Nature doesn't stop.

-Breeding sheep and cattle...

-There's a lot of old friends here.

They've come to the end of their working life. Quite a sad day.

Wait a second!

..bringing new life into the world

..and battling with the elements.

HE WHISTLES

They're all cute in their own way.

And especially if they end up on your plate as a lamb chop, yum!

Over a year, five very different families

let cameras onto their farms...

Hell of a size of nuts on him.

..and into their lives, to share their struggles...

-I don't know why you want the forward.

-Do you need to do this?

..and their triumphs...

Look at my baby! He's alive!

..as they try and turn a profit in testing economic times.

That's just depressing, that, really.

There's cause for celebration...

Gorgeous!

..and a time to reflect.

I feel sad that I haven't provided the next generation

to carry on here.

But it's never dull.

Oh! Don't let him go!

It's not a job, it's a way of life.

It's winter in Scotland, bringing the cold and wet, and shorter days.

Christmas is just around the corner.

But there's no let-up for the farmers.

Winter for me is a busy time of the year.

It's real long hours, dark days.

With all the cows inside needing fed and bedded every day,

cows come into calf,

when everyone else is winding down for the Christmas holidays,

farmers, we have to work 24/7 every day.

In the north east of Scotland,

Martin Irvine breeds pedigree Limousins.

His best bulls are auctioned as breeding stock,

the rest he sells for meat.

Winter is one of the two big calving periods of the year

and Martin's herd of 168 is growing in numbers every day.

Here we've got five cows with calves in here so,

it's starting to look a bit like a creche.

They all seem quite happy and healthy.

The thing you have to watch for is just

kind of bugs or pneumonias or...

So try and keep it as well-bedded as we can and,

if we can keep everything healthy, things thrive a lot better.

A calf's best chance of a healthy start in life

comes from its mother's first milk, colostrum.

Born with no resistance to disease,

the colostrum passes on vital maternal antibodies.

Making sure the calves are feeding

in the first few hours of life is crucial.

That's what you want to see. He's fine.

All the calves in this creche are over 24 hours old and doing well.

The calf is eating nothing but milk, he's drinking milk from his mum

so all that's in his diet is milk, milk, milk

so, when it comes out the other end,

it comes out nice and yellow and milky and it stinks!

But it's healthy.

Smells bad but it's very healthy for the calf so, when you see a calf...

..leaving that, it's a healthy sign for us that the calf's healthy

and he's getting a lot of milk.

In a different pen,

one of Martin's other newborns hasn't had such a good start.

The calf of a ten-year-old cow, Bridget, was born yesterday.

But his arrival was three weeks premature.

Most of the time if a cow calves early, about the eight months,

they usually die, are born dead.

You can see he's small, he's tiny. He's got fuzzy hair and he's...

His bones are kind of soft.

-This calf would be 15 kilos, Dad?

-Yeah.

A bit tiny, he's just tiny.

He's half the weight of an average full-term calf

and his chances of survival are slim.

If he doesn't get strength, he'll just wither away and he'll die,

but because he was premature and we've showed him how,

we've put the tit in his mouth,

he's never actually learned how to do it himself.

He has now just got the sense to get his tongue underneath it

and kind of scoop into his mouth.

In a week's time, he'll not know any difference

but just need to get his strength up.

And show him and learn him how to do the... Suck himself, really.

Scoop it up.

-Got it?

-He's got it.

The tiny calf is feeding well

but his very low weight is a big concern.

Martin needs to help him feed four times a day

to get him strong enough to survive.

And there's another calf giving Martin cause for concern.

Jumbo is just 14 hours old and both he and Martin are still

recovering from his almost disastrous birth last night.

That was probably the worst calving you could have had,

and still had a good result at the end.

'As soon as we started pulling the calf,

'the umbilical cord was burst early.

'We had to get the calf out quick

'so everything that could have went wrong pretty much went wrong.'

Wait till the calf's turned.

'Did not want to lose that calf.

'Don't want to lose any calf.

'Every calf, we put everything into it,

'and I mean everything's

'into saving that calf.'

HE PUFFS

Turn legs!

It took Martin a terrifying eight minutes to get the calf

to breathe properly.

Coming, it's coming!

It was that close in losing Jumbo, literally that close.

The relief of a live calf was all the greater

because Jumbo's mother Duchess lost a calf last year.

This time, there was a happy ending.

This morning though, Jumbo is weak.

Martin's been feeding him powdered colostrum to keep him alive

as he hasn't yet had the strength to suck from his mother's udder.

All right, big man.

It's a funny thing, if you don't get the calf to suck

in the first 12 hours, they kind of forget how to suck,

so what we're going to try and do is get some milk into his throat,

then stick the teat into his mouth

and hopefully, he'll start drawing and sucking.

He is keen to stand but just the size of him,

he hasn't got the strength to hold his own weight just yet.

Although Jumbo is big, about 60 kilos,

double the normal weight for a new-born calf,

he's floppy and listless.

The small amount of colostrum he's taken should help

kick-start his immune system.

But Martin still needs to get him feeding from Duchess.

This morning, they're trying him on her teat.

So we've got Duchess, she's tied at the head, tied at the leg,

I don't fancy getting kicked. We'll keep her standing there.

So he's a bit excited, he knows there's something here that he wants

but he doesnae realise how to get to it.

See, that's what you're looking for,

that's him looking for a teat.

You want to kind of just put the tip in his mouth and he'll suck

but the more you make him do something, the more he fights you,

so you've got kind of let him do it himself

and try and coax him into it.

Martin squeezes the creamy colostrum from Duchess's teat

into Jumbo's mouth.

But he still doesn't latch on.

No success.

I'll leave him for another couple of hours,

he'll get a bit more hungrier and we'll try him again.

Jumbo needs Duchess's rich protein-packed first milk

or he won't survive.

In the hills of Western Scotland,

winter is taking hold.

Sybil and George McPherson work two farms,

one they own and one they rent.

Their land covers 15,000 acres of mountainous terrain...

..where they keep 2,000 hardy black-faced sheep

and 60 crossbreed cattle...

..20 of which live outside all year round in all kinds of weather.

Gee-whiz!

Look at it. It's sweeping across there, it's quite amazing.

You can see the sheep hiding in there, in the lee of the wind.

Can you see them over there in the distance, in a wee group?

They'll have found that somewhere

where the wind isn't actually catching them,

and they're happy to stay in there, out of the wind today.

We're so at the mercy of the weather when you farm in the hills,

the weather really dictates exactly what you can or can't do.

And especially at this time of year, when it can change very quickly.

Despite the weather, there's work to be done.

All the fleeces they sheared this summer,

two and a half tonnes in all,

are packed and ready to be picked up today.

They're at their rented farm

and a haulage lorry is supposed to be on its way.

Hello?

Hello, Linda.

Hi, it's Sybil here, just trying to get in touch about the wool.

I know that Frank said he was going to call, Linda,

but our power's gone off and we've got no phone at home,

so I thought I better, I better get in touch with you,

just if you'd any idea what time he might be arriving.

He said after lunch, it's just trying to get a time check.

I'd imagine him maybe not just running to timescale today

with the weather.

The wool is tightly packed, around 70 fleeces in each white sack.

And they've just acquired a few more unexpected additions,

too late and now too wet for today's pick-up.

I've got here a fleece of a double-fleecer,

a sheep which we found last week which had been away in the...

In the thousands of hectares of ground which nobody farms.

That's one of the problems we have with trying to manage our sheep

that they do wander off into the wilderness, and this happens,

that they're not taken in for shearing

at the correct time of year.

So we went round there for a round-up last week

and found some of these old girls.

The weight and the volume of that wool would mean that that sheep

would be unable to move about in the snow or even in the wet weather.

I mean, there's probably about

perhaps ten kilos of weight in this fleece.

And then you can imagine the weight of carrying that about for a sheep

is just phenomenal.

Poor old girl.

But I don't suppose she's enjoying it now that she hasn't got it

to insulate her in the like of today, cos it is quite stormy now.

It's seasonal...fun.

Blackface sheep are bred to survive this kind of weather

and their fleeces reflect this.

The wool is strong, coarse and durable.

The fleece was once the most valuable part of a sheep.

But since the rise of man-made fabrics,

the value of wool has plummeted.

Sybil and George will get paid around £2,500 for the whole lot.

That's just 99 pence per kilo of wool.

If we had to pay a shearer, we certainly wouldn't make money,

I mean, because I think the shearers are from 1 over £1.15

to £1.30 or £1.50 for shearing them, so you wouldn't get your money back

but then it's a job that's got to be done for welfare issues.

But I mean, in Father's time, when he was farming,

the wool used to pay the shepherd's wage.

There's no way it'd pay a shepherd's wage now.

If I had a shepherd and offered him that,

-he wouldn't be here for very long.

-HE LAUGHS

COWS MOO

What are you lot doing, you naughty little creatures?

Go on. Shh! Shh!

Hello, Shirley.

It's after one o'clock. The haulage lorry is apparently on its way.

But the farmhouse is remote, deep in the countryside.

For now, they must wait.

At the Irvine's family farm,

north of Aberdeen, Martin's had some bad news.

COWS MOO

There's a farmer's saying,

where there's livestock, there's deadstock.

Bridget's tiny calf has been found dead.

He was premature, he was three weeks premature and we dinnae ken

if he was made up right inside, maybe not fully developed

in his lungs or his stomach and he'd be three days old now.

And Dad, we've colostrumed him, we've sucked him,

we did everything we could for him

and we weren't expecting him to die, we thought he'd be OK.

Dad put him under a heat lamp and he did kind of pick up.

But obviously, something's not been right and he's away.

You win some, you lose some. That's it.

We hate losing calves.

It's a sad, sick feeling, cos when you're losing a calf,

you're losing profit, you're losing money.

But it's a lot more because you're putting so much into something,

you want to get the reward back.

So, definitely when we lose calves, we take it really to heart.

Martin's other new-born, Jumbo, seems to have turned a corner.

He's started to feed from his mother

but Martin's keen to keep an eye on how much milk he's getting.

So what we've got here is Jumbo, born two days ago

and last night, we managed to get him onto his feet

and get him sucking, so any chance we can, we'll catch the cow

and make sure he fills his belly till he gets full strength.

Just had to fill his belly again this morning.

But Martin has another issue to contend with.

After losing her calf last year, Duchess,

having no calf to suckle, developed mastitis in her udder.

It's an inflammation caused by bacteria

and can reduce the production of milk.

It's flared up again.

His mum's only got, she's got four teats,

there's only two of them working, so she hasn't got a lot of milk.

Given Jumbo's size, Duchess may not be able to give him what he needs.

It's still a perilous time.

There's a fine line between him living and him dying,

so just got to make sure to look after him now.

It's another hurdle to overcome in Jumbo's first few days of life.

150 miles away, on the other side of Scotland,

Sybil and George are about to get rid of over 2,000 sheared fleeces.

The haulage driver, Frank, is here with his lorry,

an hour behind schedule.

Absolutely delighted that, at last, the wool is going.

We need the space for hay coming in for feeding for the winter,

so delighted that he's here.

The wool is being taken to a Wool Marketing Board depot

where it will be graded and then sold,

mostly for making carpets and home insulation.

Getting a bit flatter. Eugh!

Not many like that, mind.

Most farmers find wool an absolute bind,

both to take it off and then to pack it and then to get it away,

it's a...not many farmers get excited about wool.

-Right, what number?

-Two, one...

Two!

Each bag weighs about 75 kilos.

It's demanding physical work.

That is one of the benefits of our job.

There is physical exercise in it,

that keeps you at kind of core fitness, isn't there?

Oopsy!

Is that a good position, darling?

No, it's not a good position at all, George.

You really shouldn't be snoozing on the job.

Sybil, now 55, was in her late twenties when her father died

and she inherited the family farm.

She ran it alone for two decades

before she and George took it on together.

When I was younger, I was physically much more energetic.

Much more capable.

The enthusiasm of youth is a pleasant memory.

The thought of shearing the sheep again this summer,

is something that kind of alarms me

as I wonder how my back will keep up, but hey-ho.

SHE PUFFS

I try but it's, it is frustrating that as a woman,

you're physically not as able.

It does frustrate me. But I will keep trying.

-You certainly try your hardest.

-For sure, I will keep trying!

The day you cart me off, I'll be trying.

North-west of Argyll, on the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides,

a sudden fall of snow has transformed the landscape,

just two weeks before Christmas.

So I have got Murdy, Fran and Davy.

-Mm-hm.

-And us for Christmas.

After 12 years of island life,

former London barristers turned Scottish crofters

Sandy and Ali Granville now take extremes of weather in their stride.

I'm just going to put as many clothes on as I can find.

Sandy keeps a flock of hardy blackface sheep.

Their mating, or tupping season, has recently ended

and Sandy now wants to separate the rams or tups from the ewes.

The plan today is to round up the sheep from the hillside

and shepherd them down to the holding pens for sorting.

It was completely white when I woke up this morning and it feels,

it's actually very cold but it feels really warm

because the wind's dropped.

There's a little breeze but, but it's lovely.

Agh! Good dog.

Would you like to start moving them through?

Yep.

'It does get harder as you get older, but then you get cleverer.

'I used to be wading through the mud with a bale on my back

'and now I don't carry bales any distance at all.

'It's always a great joy when the spring comes.'

And you can stop going out with your balaclava on

and your big jacket and your big gloves.

Come on then, this way! Whoop, whoop!

Come on then, come on then! There's a good girl.

Ali takes the gentle touch with the animals.

Sandy is a bit more forthright.

-Come on now!

-HE WHISTLES

He wants to drive the flock to the handling pens,

which means walking them down a public road.

It's only a few hundred metres but Sandy needs to be watchful.

Traffic is a hazard for livestock, even here on Lewis.

Doyle! Good, Doyle!

That's the tricky bit of shepherding done now.

Now we're just walking up the moor,

we've got loads of space and no-one's going to run us over.

Once in the pen, Sandy can separate his two rams

from the rest of the flock.

Now that the ewes are hopefully pregnant, their job is done.

Come here, you bugger.

They can look forward to a good feed and rest

after five weeks tupping on the hillside.

I'll go and get your mate, he's not stealing a march on you.

They're the sort of rams that I like, they're native Lewis rams.

Good quality Lewis rams, they, for the stock we need,

we want that, that sort of native blood...

Produce, produce progeny that are going to be strong on the moor,

and I like the straightforward blackface faces.

Separating them was pretty straightforward

but now he has to get them into the trailer.

First one's always the easy one.

This snowy ram wrangling is a world away from his life in London.

I always tried hard not to work at weekends but I was a rugby coach.

I used to train the...the youngsters.

And some old skills still come in handy.

It does help, doesn't it?

It does help but I wouldn't want to tackle too many of these fellas

out in open play, would you?

There will come a time when, if one lives long enough,

when one's just too old for all of this

but I think we can stagger on for a while yet.

The rams will go to another island for the rest of the winter.

The ewes will be sent back onto the moor.

And Sandy can relax with a well-earned drink.

That is perhaps the one regret about being in Scotland.

The beer is definitely not up to the standards I was used to.

But other things are pretty good.

December on the farm for me is a grim time of year.

I absolutely loathe the winter.

I hate the long dark nights.

I hate the fact that the weather is normally cold, wet, inclement

and uncomfortable for outdoor animals.

December, then through January, February,

they are long, cold, hungry months.

But off-loading their fleeces at this time of year is a relief.

The simple enjoyment of getting rid of the wool, you feel the pressure

coming off, it's away again, that's another year done.

It's taken an hour of nonstop work but they're almost finished.

Quick, George, we'll get him this time!

HE LAUGHS

No need for you to come in here, young man!

-Picked a light one.

-Too right, we did!

-Aha, we're starting to see the end of it now.

-Yep.

These stupid muckle wellies, whilst very good at keeping your feet warm,

don't make you very agile.

The lorry is almost fully loaded,

allowing George a moment of reflection.

I often ask George what he's thinking

when he's looking into the distance, "What you thinking?"

"Nothing." How can you possibly think about nothing?

-Does something not always...

-Just sit and listen to the puddle.

Does something not always churn on in your head?

Nah. You know me, Sybil.

You listen to the puddle?

Yeah.

-Feel depressed cos it's raining.

-Nature's noises.

Nature's noises. There was a wee robin singing earlier.

-Quick, quick, quick, George!

-GEORGE LAUGHS

Ah, too slow.

Frank is an hour behind and keen to get away.

You happy?

How many is that anyway? Any idea at all?

Not a clue.

Quite a lot of threes, isn't there? All threes out there.

-Did you count them?

-No!

You're in charge!

Sybil and George don't have a record

of the number of bags they've handed over.

That is a very large faux pas, that we didn't count.

He should have known what's on before.

It's not the point, one is supposed to know.

We'll have to fill in a piece of paper.

Another piece of paper, to say how many bags we've put.

And we don't know.

Such was the excitement of getting it, we forgot to count it.

How long have we been doing this job? Lots of years.

-Started today.

-Hm?

-Started today.

-Started today!

We haven't a Scooby.

But now, Sybil has another concern.

The farm's owner lives in the house next door

and the lorry now heavily loaded with wool

is parked in her driveway, next to her well-tended lawn.

Watch the grass.

-George, though, is a little more relaxed.

-Perfect, aye?

No!

-Yeah, back you come, Frank, perfect.

-No!

-It's good so far.

-Oh! This will not be popular.

-There's no other way you can do it.

-Oh, no!

Oh! Oh, dear.

Bye-bye, Frank!

Bye-bye, George and Sybil.

-Oh, dear.

-Oh, dear!

What can we do about this? Nothing much. Pat it smooth.

With their landlady due back tomorrow, a desperate patch-up

is the best they can do.

Pfft! Ugh!

THEY LAUGH

Come on, use your weight to your advantage, darling.

I'm trying to use my weight to my advantage!

At the Irvines' farm, it's feeding time for the Limousins.

Martin's family started specialising in breeding pedigree cattle

30 years ago.

One of their key aims is to raise and sell a superstar bull.

Three years ago, Martin sold one animal for £30,000.

Keeping standards up means life and death decisions.

With our farming system, we obviously have to pick out animals

which are not good enough for breeding

which then go for slaughter.

Of the 35 bull calves born this year, around 70% will be nurtured,

given top-quality feed and sold as breeding bulls.

The others will go to the slaughterhouse.

About a year old, they're picked out and if they're going for slaughter,

the bulls would be about 14 to 16 months, heifers about the same age.

Which is not so hard picking them out because you haven't spent

much time with them, but when you've had a cow you've had for

nine, ten, maybe 14 years and she's been on the farm breeding

and breeding well, comes a point when she's past it,

she's done her time and she's bred what she can bred

and it's just time for her to go,

that's the harder decisions we have to make.

But running a successful business involves these difficult decisions.

Over 60 calves have been born this year, and Jumbo,

one of the youngest,

is still not getting enough milk from his mother, Duchess.

So, Martin has a plan.

So who we've got here is Bridget

and Bridget is the cow who had the premature calf,

so what we're going to try and do is have Jumbo suck both cows

and eventually we'll try and get him onto Bridget,

cos she's got a full four quarters,

she's got plenty of milk

and she'll have enough milk to bring up Jumbo.

She is kind of keen on him,

she is kind of licking him and taking him on

so hopefully, it'll be an easy transfer.

But we'll make use of her.

Martin tries to guide Jumbo without forcing him

but will he take milk from a surrogate?

One more try and he gets it.

She seems quite happy with him, which is good.

She's got plenty of milk and it'll let him thrive on.

So even though she's lost her calf,

we're still going to make use of her.

Cows like Bridget are expected to produce and rear a calf every year.

That's about 12 calves in a lifetime.

It costs Martin around £800 a year to feed and look after one cow,

so they must all earn their keep.

Martin has made a decision about five-year-old Duchess.

The fact is she has not got enough milk

and I need a cow to work for herself and she can't work for herself.

Even though she can produce calves and probably very good calves,

if she hasn't got enough milk to look after a calf,

it's not worth keeping.

So, she'll just go away, into the food chain

and I've got plenty of heifers coming out to take her place,

which is a shame but I need a cow to look after herself.

So, that'll be that.

She's a really good cow. She's nice nature and...

But it is a business, it's nae just a hobby as much, as nice as

it would be a hobby, this kind of job,

it's got to be a business as well, so you have to sell things,

you can't keep everything.

Duchess went for slaughter two weeks later.

In the far north of Scotland, near Inverness,

large-scale sheep farmer John Scott runs three farms.

John's expanded the family business

since he joined his father in partnership

and increased the original flock of 800 sheep to over 4,000.

-PUFFS AND WHISTLES

-Up!

Today, he's gathering up 28 young rams to take them to one of his

rented farms for tupping duties.

Is that the right way? Yeah, it is the right way round, isn't it? Yeah.

I always get confused.

So what we're doing just now is we're getting rams ready for...

To take to the farm we've got in Sutherland,

and there's a big bunch of Cheviot ewes up there ready for them.

Just teenagers, going for three weeks of fun,

up in the wilds of Sutherland.

They'll soon realise that going in a box at this time of year

isn't the end of the world.

There's actually good things at the end of it, so...

John's rented farm at West Garty in Sutherland

is 34 miles away on the east coast.

The 2,600 acres here gives John additional grazing

for his expanding collection of livestock.

Come on, boys!

HE WHISTLES

It'll be a wee bit if a shock to their system,

these guys were born in April, and this is their first season working.

We'll put them out for 17 days

and then we'll put in some more experienced rams.

That's the plan here. So they'll be in for 17 days.

More experienced rams for 17 days

and then that's the rams'll be brought back in.

When John took on the tenancy here two years ago,

it was in a neglected state.

A farm that's in poor heart is a bit like a big ship,

it takes quite a while to turn it round

and get it going the right way.

So getting the soil right, getting the grass right.

This is, it may look quite lush and green just now but really,

the grass quality here isn't good, it's old.

This is our third season with the rams going out so,

next spring will be our third lambing and things

are gradually starting to improve

and the farm is becoming more profitable.

One of my primary objectives is to take the business on

and leave it in a better condition than I found it.

Never tired of that view.

John, like his father, is keen to keep the legacy of farming alive.

Dad did the same, he really improved Fearn.

Fearn needed an awful lot of work and infrastructure and he's done,

done that in his time and it's now my time to try and

develop things and grow things for the next...

generation, I suppose.

But I'm also fully driven anyway.

I like, I like the thought of trying to farm on a bigger scale and

does quite a lot for me and enjoy it, I enjoy the challenge

of going into a new farm and working out what works,

what doesn't work and seeing it improve.

I mean, this place has improved no end in two years,

and it'll continue to do so, I'm sure.

It's wonderful when the sun's shining and the skies are blue,

but it can be a tough place to farm.

Just keep going.

East of Inverness, at the Irvines' farm, an important Christmas sale

is looming for Martin and fiancee Mel.

Feel the burn.

Hang on, put it down.

They have a bull they need to sell.

OK, I've got Ironhide here, and he was unsold in October

in the Stirling sales, and what we've got tomorrow

is a sale, it's Christmas Classic Aberdeen,

and there's a small selection of bulls up for offer for sale,

so we're going to try him, and hopefully get him sold tomorrow.

It's not the best time of year to be selling bulls but Ironhide's here,

it's pretty much do or die so, to get him sold tomorrow, it'll be OK.

If we don't get him sold tomorrow,

it's only really going to go in one way

and that's the wrong way for him, really.

The wrong way means just one thing.

-Burgers!

-Burgers.

Ironhide was fed and reared to reach his physical peak at 19 months old.

Now 21 months, he's more difficult to sell.

We've done as much as we can.

Buyers are nae there, so there's not much else,

we've done everything we can for him.

He's done as much as he can for us, so it's pretty much do or die.

Martin banked on Ironhide selling at

the Stirling bull sale in October.

His form was excellent. Muscular, well proportioned, moving well.

Ahead of the sale, he came first in class

in a judging round for Limousins.

You could nae get a better start.

This should have improved Martin's chances of getting a good price

in the auction, so his confidence was high.

We should be getting 5,000, 6,000 for Ironhide.

Worst-case scenario, we'd get 4,000.

But despite his winner's rosette,

Ironhide even failed to make Martin's reserve price.

That's just depressing, that, really.

The Aberdeen Christmas Classic is the last sheep and cattle auction

of the year, so this is Ironhide's last chance.

So we've have made it to Aberdeen in one piece.

So we've got the pen ready, we're just going to head back to the pen.

Just going to... We're just going to head back to the pen,

give him a blow-dry and a bit of tidy-up.

That's just what you like to see, get in the pen and start eating.

So he'll just relax, chill out. Perfect.

The Christmas Classic is a two-day event

with around 500 animals for sale.

The sales in the spring are busier,

but as Ironhide is almost past his best, he won't sustain his form.

Today, the signs of attracting a buyer are good.

There is a bit of buzz going about the place,

everybody's busy dressing up the bulls,

great atmosphere and there's actually a couple of buyers

going about, which is a good feeling.

The bull himself is looking the part.

I've looked at the competition, he's looking quite strong.

So if the judge, judging goes well and we get a ticket,

it'll help for a sale later on this afternoon.

Like the previous sale, there's a judging round ahead of the auction

and a red rosette should help Ironhide's prospects

of fetching a good price.

So, both bull and owner need to look their best.

It's all about presentation.

Right.

THEY LAUGH

SHE SPITS AND SPRAYS

Best-case scenario, we get first, Limousin champion and then go on

and compete against the other breeds for overall champion.

Just get some prize money.

It's Martin's turn to go into the show ring.

This is where the butterflies start to kick in now.

There are only five bulls in this round.

Most of the judges are looking for good muscle definition, size,

length, smooth movement.

But each has their own preferences.

All the owners want their bulls to look their best.

That means standing square

with a foot in every corner.

This posture shows their physique

off to best effect.

Ironhide has other ideas.

Stand.

Stand.

Stand! Stand.

Martin must keep Ironhide in position for a tense 60 seconds.

He's being a bit of a pest, he's nae standing right,

he's looking a bit stupid, which is not helping.

If he would just calm down, he's a wee bit unsettled.

More interested in looking at anything else rather than

what he should be doing.

HE CLICKS

The judge is going to look at the last bull,

we're going to parade around and he'll place us first to fifth.

Finally, the judge makes up his mind.

First prize goes elsewhere.

Then second...

..third...

..and even fourth.

That's judging for you.

And fifth goes to the Anside, Ironhide,

from Anside Pedigree Livestock.

That couldn't have went any worse if I tried, really.

So they are the winners. Strong cast of bulls, I'm sure you will agree.

It never went to plan, ended up getting last,

which I was not expecting, I thought I'd be second at the worst.

OK, the bull's got his faults, he's not the best walker but body wise,

he's got a great body.

But the judge obviously wasn't a fan of bad walking,

that's why I was last.

I don't agree with him. I think he should have been further up

but it's one man's opinion.

The big moment's this afternoon itself so hopefully,

we'll get better luck there than we did in the show ring. Hopefully.

2,000 merit, £2,000. 2,000 merit, 2,000 merit, 2,000, £2,000.

Up in the sale ring, there is a brisk trade.

At 2,000 merit, 2,000 best.

Ironhide might yet get a buyer.

2,400 merit, 2,400. 2,400 merit...

But an hour later, as his class is called into the ring,

there's no sign of him.

What's happened is we're just away to sell the bull,

Mel's taken him out the pen and I've got to see him walking,

and he's feeling the back leg.

And he was feeling the back leg, like injury, a bit of lame

in the back leg and he was limping a little bit in judging

and they were noticing it but I wasn't noticing it

because I was carrying the bull in the ring.

And it's not until Mel took the bull into the pen just now,

and it's obvious, really obvious that he's lame.

For a breeding bull, a lame back leg is a disaster.

They need to be vigorous and agile to mount the female during mating.

That bull could give Martin's family and everyone a bad reputation,

that Anside.

So you're better off cutting your losses,

still having a good reputation

and just getting on with it and get over it.

So that's what we're going to do.

Pulled him out the sale, we'll take him home

and I imagine he'll head one way now, which is food chain...

Which is a shame, but nice bull but we're just going to cut our losses

and he'll be on somebody's plate pretty soon but it's just reality,

that's what happens.

We'll get over it, farming's like that, you have your ups and downs

and today's a bit of a down day but we'll get on with it.

-Bugger.

-HE LAUGHS

-It's a shame.

-That's farming for you.

-Yeah.

-It's a gamble.

-It's a gamble.

-Everything's a gamble in farming.

This gamble, sadly, hasn't paid off.

This fine animal, raised from birth by Martin,

was sold for £1,600 for slaughter ten days later.

North of Inverness, John Scott and wife Fiona are about to experience

a parental Christmas rite of passage.

The school panto. This year, it's Aladdin.

Your programmes are on the seat.

-Has John paid, no?

-No, he said you would pay.

The village school that their three younger children attend

is where John went 35 years ago.

A lot of memories, yeah. Aye, it's, it's just huge.

Still the same floor. Those are the benches we used.

But, yeah, no, it's a good little school,

really good community school.

Oldest daughter Izzy has a lead role as Princess Jasmine.

Lexie is a gem and six-year-old Archie

has a non-speaking role as a rat.

I'm a little bit nervous for Izzy, actually. Hope I don't put her off.

MUSIC PLAYS

# So, it certainly seemed to me

# You needed some company

# It's truly been a pleasure so far!

-ALL:

-# Bangers and mash

# Carrots and peas

# Need one another like a cracker needs cheese

# Bacon and eggs

# Strawberries and cream

# Some things go together perfectly

# Some things go together perfectly. #

APPLAUSE

They all sang really, really well.

Like, quite often, some of them you can hear singing but not all of them

but they were all getting stuck in, which was good.

Izzy!

That was quite special.

Just proud of the kids, proud of the school,

proud of our friends' kids.

Simply a tremendous, just a tremendous afternoon, really good.

I am in the Christmas spirit now, so I can't wait.

Bring it on, brilliant.

Work continues at the Irvines' farm.

And there's good news.

Jumbo is continuing to feed well from his foster mother Bridget,

so it's time for a christening.

We'll just make this calf official.

So we've got his tags here

and we've got Jumbo,

which I think is pretty well named for the size of the calf.

He is a bit of a Jumbo, so I would say every calf we have,

we'll try and pick a name for it and I think this is well picked.

Right, chief, I'm sorry.

Just cos the way he's come into this world and everything like that,

you will hope he turns into something special.

Ugh! Ay-ay-ay!

That better?

So, there we go.

Martin has added 65 calves to his herd this year.

But few have had such a memorable and momentous start.

If you spend a lot of time with something,

you do grow fond of things.

Martin is always looking for his next superstar bull.

Jumbo certainly has the build to make it big.

It's almost Christmas.

After a year of hard work, the farmers take a bit of time out

to prepare for the break.

-Star!

-Star.

-Nooo!

-He seems quite happy.

-No, he doesn't.

On Lewis, Sandy wants to look his best.

Off we go.

This is Christmas coming and I've

got to have my Christmas haircut.

-At the Scotts...

-I'll supervise.

I'll tell you left a bit, right a bit.

..preparations are well in hand.

So, Mum, tell me what you're doing.

I am making dauphinoise tatties.

I'm going to give this bread a bit of kneading.

Ali's over at the table, making a start on her mince pies.

The ham, mmmmm! Honey glazing.

Tasty ham!

Masterpiece.

In Argyll, things are a little less festive.

I can't, I cannot believe, that I have been so lazy

and so procrastinating to have fallen to this again.

That Christmas has sneaked up on me

and I haven't done what I should have done.

I don't know where the year went.

It really is pathetic and I feel

particularly downhearted about it this year, I really do.

I'm really sorry.

HE CHUCKLES

Come Christmas Eve, there's still farm work to be done.

All the animals are ready for bed. I've got my chickens here with me

and we had a lot of lightning last night but it's looking pretty good

tonight so I've put Samson's rug on, so he can go out tonight with luck.

And this is one of the lovely places to be when it's windy

and wild outside and all the animals are settled in at night.

And something quite nice about them

all being warm and snuggled in at Christmas.

And on Christmas Day, the stockings must wait.

So it's Christmas morning, it's half past, half past seven

and it's just starting to come light.

So what we're doing is we're heading out the farm, we'll feed the cows.

Right, better make a start now.

It's just after eight o'clock,

about time things were getting fed.

Looks like it's going to be a nice sunrise this morning.

There's the view out of the cattle shed first thing. So peaceful.

-What are we doing today?

-Hello!

-COWS MOO

-Morning, ladies. It's Christmas day!

Christmas breakfast for the boys.

One of the great things about Christmas morning is that there is

nobody else about.

It's just me, cattle, the dogs, sheep.

But at the Irvines' calf creche,

Mel and Martin are in for a nasty surprise.

-We've come over to the farm...

-COWS MOO

..to an absolute disaster on Christmas Day.

A dead baby and an unhappy mummy.

These cows know that something's died.

This is Jeeves.

He was fine last night

so something's obviously happened last night.

He could have been laid on, kicked, anything and there's nothing obvious

at all that's wrong with him.

So, a good start to Christmas, not really.

Losing calves is very hard because we've waited nine months for this

little calf to be born and you lose it or it dies and yeah,

it's really sad but we just have to get on with things and...and we do.

John Scott's day is proving more uplifting.

That's the first field fed, first field of sheep fed this morning,

ewe lambs, I've another four to do and then go inside

to warm up a little bit and then I've got to nip over

to the other farm at Nigg and feed the cows over there.

Up at the highest point on the farm just now.

Sun's just coming up nice and beautiful.

Lot of seagulls around this morning, don't know why,

maybe a storm coming, not quite sure.

-SYBIL:

-Merry Christmas, George.

Merry Christmas, Sybil. Merry Christmas, sheeps.

Bleugh!

Oooooh, fancy!

OK, I'll open one! Yay!

Ooh, ooh, smells expensive.

Grrr!

-JOHN:

-Archie, you having a good day so far?

-Yeah.

-SANDY:

-That's the venison ham.

Mm! Christmas meat!

-Merry Christmas!

-Yay!

-Go!

-POPPING

There is, as ever, always one more job to be done.

-JOHN:

-Some people may think that, you know, it's a bit hard

having to work at Christmas Day but when you get scenery like this

every day of your life, it's just pretty special.

Wouldn't change it for the world.

Hey, Kay?

Next time, the new year brings more wild weather for Sandy.

Just about the worst storm we've had for ten years.

Good few tiles off the roof.

Martin and Mel scan their pregnant ewes ahead of the lambing season.

Ideally, twins in every ewe.

Just for the fact a ewe's got two teats, two lambs,

matches out pretty perfect.

-Three!

-Oh, no, really, John?

Triplet!

And one of John's bulls fails to make the grade at an important sale.

That's like the long walk of shame. All the way back with a red dot.

Delighted that you guys are here to capture the moment(!)