2025 - The year of goodbyes

As the title of this blog post reads, these previous 12 months have been some of the hardest ones I have ever experienced and lived through.

2024 gave me a challenging obstacle to navigate, but it was 2025 that honestly felt like it wanted to break me and return me to my norm of buying a ticket and running. Running as far away as I possibly could. In 2019 I made a promise to my grandmother. In fact I had made three promises that day, and because of the woman she was and the way that she had helped raise me, there was no way I was going to let her down. Two of those promises have now been completed. 

At the start of 2025 I was still in the unknown mindset of questioning if I had made the right decision in selling up my flock of Lleyn ewes. Nevertheless, by the time the end of 2025 came around, I was confident that the decision I had made was 100% the right one.

The first goodbye came suddenly and out of the blue in March. From no where it felt like an almighty slap in the face. The youngest member of the Freckled Farmher team had taken ill, Fergus (Gus). No one knew what had caused it in order to provide the amazing vets with the information they needed until it was way too late.

Gus was the small, mischievous but brave member of my team who had the cheekiest smile and cute ambition for life. He was our mini explorer who was petrified of sheep but always felt safe on the quad bike. But he was only three years old when he was taken way too soon. I have encountered the loss of many a farm dog over the years, but this one hit differently because of his young age compared to the others who had lived hard working, adventurous lives before him who were much much older.

Fergus's loss came at a time when the announcement that the rat bait purchasing rules would be changing come January 2026 and through my place of work, farmers were asking for help in order to get prepared for the certificates they would need for future purchases. Twenty four hours in to Gus taking ill his gums had started to bleed but there were no signs of a cut in his mouth. He had been sick constantly the hours before however, I had not been aware of him eating anything unusual to his daily meals. Long story short, it came to light at a point that was way too late in Gus's health status, that rat poison was highly likely to be the cause of him taking ill and was the reason he was unable to stop bleeding and was now bleeding internally also. This resulted in the best thing for him with the late diagnosis which was to be put Gus to sleep to prevent him going through any more pain.

Those who know me well, know how much my four legged pals mean to me. They are always my number one priority mainly because they have been the reasons I have managed to get through many of the difficult periods in my life. They stand by my side through all circumstances with smiles on their faces, inquisitive to know where the next walk will take us. This realisation of the cause of his death made me angry. An anger I had not felt in a very very long time. I hunted, and I hunted hard to find where that rat bait was located. Good communication has always been a key value to me. I may not always agree with what I hear, but in knowing the facts and situations through good communication I am better prepared to know how to proceed in life and any risk that may need to be considered. It was due to a lack of communication that rat poison was present on the farm placed by those who were not physically farming the land. This was the reason for Gus's death. This was the reason for me not knowing it's presence. The most horrific animal experience I have ever encountered and one which I will never forget let alone forgive.

The second goodbye came at the end of September. One which I knew would always arrive, but not necessarily that week. As I have briefly mentioned in a previous post, my grandfather (Les) took ill suddenly in February 2024. With the help of close family members I had taken on a role of providing at home care for him on a daily, weekly and monthly basis.

Grandfathers farming journey started suddenly when he was only aged 15. His father had died after a sudden illness and grandfather had decided to leave grammar school early to come home and run his family farm alongside his mother. Many years later meeting and marrying my grandmother and moving to her family farm and the one I have always cherished and known. He was a character in the rural community who loved a large tot of whiskey to help clear the cold from his chest in an evening. A strong top tenor in many a male voice choir with a passion for rugby as strong as the roots that grew beneath his feet. Nevertheless, he could be challenging on times with many a disagreement on farm and unfortunately an attitude that ended up being one of the main reasons I left for New Zealand back in 2014. However, like my other grandad before him who sadly passed away in 2011, and my grandmother who passed in 2019, Les only longed for the one thing in life when his health had quickly deteriorated. That was time spent with others. Precious time sharing stories and worries with those who were willing to sit and listen. I strongly believe social media has made us an unsociable generation. A generation with not enough time to spare with those who matter and need it the most. But that's a rant for another day. 

The morning of gramps passing was traumatic. The few places I have worked have all provided first aid training. A course I have completed and repeated a handful of times. However, when the reality of putting that training comes in to practice, the emotions you encounter and the actions you have to complete are very very different. I am already aware that if I get asked to complete a first aid training course again, my answer will instantly be no.

The loss of Gus and the loss of grandfather are both still fresh. They are both still on the surface. Many emotions ran out at the time of both their passings but, I am very aware there are a lot more emotions still to come.

The realisation of the third goodbye came in early October. One which farming families deeply pray to never have to hear. However, after 38 years on the land it is a sentence I will never forget hearing. This goodbye is the one which is going to cut the deepest.

Those who have followed and read my blog from day one, will know how strongly I feel for the land. You will have read the endless stories of how the rural communities, the rugged landscape along with the livestock who graze it have all shaped me to be the person I am today. The dirt on my hands, the fresh air on my face, the long nights of no sleep have all carved me into the woman I dreamt of being as a young girl many years ago. I deeply believe those who choose to farm the variety of landscapes day in day out alongside family members, neighbours and friends are somewhat built differently. They observe the changing of the seasons through the hedgerows, grass growth and wind directions, holding a love so deep for the locations in which they work that unless you work within the industry yourself, you will never understand this love so great. Farming hits differently. It's the slow, seasonal industry which relies on mother nature to help guide it's workers and provide them with the skills in life which help them farm and live. Patience, faith and a strong appreciation for time.

As we start stripping back the memories of a life well lived we have been reminiscing on the stories of treasured times gone by. I am painfully aware that 2026 is going to be emotional. Emotions I will never have felt before. The biggest challenge I am now facing and fear, is the fact I don't know what to do next. I don't know where to go. I have no idea where to run to. 2026 is providing me with the first blank page of a new chapter that I have no idea what marks to make with my pen. However, I have been recognising this is a time where by I am able to put myself first as I no longer have anyone to run for. People have told me this is now a time for me to be selfish, but that's a feeling I have never enjoyed.

What 2024 and 2025 have taught me however, is that as humans we have a deep inner strength within us if we need it. We are resilient and we will survive the challenges and obstacles which get thrown our way. I am someone who does not wish ill health or harm on anyone but, if these previous few years have made me realise anything, it's that when difficult situations come to an end, for your own inner peace, you no longer have to sit at the same table as those who do not envision the same life you wish to lead or the same values you hold. 

Many of the blog posts I have written over the past decade have documented and told stories of the memories I have cherished, held deep within and treasured so strongly. Amongst the chaos of the clearing I have been coming across some real gems of family history. Some of which I have heard about before, but others which are completely new to me. One scrap of paper in particular has sat with me ever since I found it at the end of November. It's the bottom half of what looks like an agenda from a farmers union or farming club meeting from 1950. The final quote and wish for the club members for the year ahead is one which I feel links strongly with the past 38 years of my time on this plot of land. A visual statement to help lead me in to the 2026 year.

"Hats off to the past. Coats off to the future"

Until next time

Hx