Old farming men.

[Bruce Almighty]

Trouble is, we, certainly I, wanted to do it. But 50kgs off the floor, or probably at all, at that age was too much. Fathers should have said ‘no’.

Dad was plagued by back trouble in his later life. Various chiropractors and osteopaths all said it was down to lifting too much weight at an early age, before his spine had finished growing. He said railway sacks were good for nobody.

Like you, he did it because he wanted too. Grandad wouldn't have said no because he would have done the same thing at that age.

Another cause of bad backs were poor tractor seats & no cab suspension

I was relieved in the mid 80s, when we stopped combine drilling and started to have seed corn in half tonne bags, along with more round bales and less conventionals

Probably the biggest struggle I have today is with tractor back wheels. Picking up & re-fitting a stray 16.9 X 38 was OK in my 30s, but now that's just a standard wheel on a small tractor.

 

[Ramrod]

Like many of you we unloaded fert by hand, stacked it flat way by hand, a week or so later it was handballed on to cart, then in field handballed into spreader.

Why didn't we build a dock or staging in the quieter winter months? That way would have saved picking from floor.

In those times with everything coming and going in bags it was hard work but you did it, "never let it be known your mother bred a jibber"

Of course with all the manual labour needed there were jobs aplenty, these jobs disappeared with the introduction of a forklift, in its many forms. Jobs that have never been available since.

When only a kid I can remember potato picking by hand (something we did until the late 70s) the local women would come in a gang.
one particular day one of the women picked up a horseshoe, it was considered lucky to find one, spit on it and through it over your shoulder, which she did.
it hit the horse on the arse and he bolted all the way to the yard.

Later we had a two row hoover and a piecework gang of 10 men, picking in wretches, using about 400 baskets which were left full in a row from one end of the field to the other.
Along with a small old man (the catcher) who stood in the cart I walked alongside the row of full baskets swinging them up so as to be upside down when they reached the catcher and he threw the empties out, this kept the gang picking. If one of them picked his wretch, before the next was ready he shouted "hoover" so as to let the others know, even though some maybe 2 or 3 rows behind. We did about 60 ton a day, graved by my 2 brothers, all strawed down by tea. Then tended stock and dragging land after that.

Now to riddling potatoes from graves, we used to move up and round the tasks ie; scooping, pick off, bag up and stack every 3 ton.
In earlier times every thing was in cwts, when the lorry arrived we loaded with a hicking stick. When papers arrived we used an old cooks bag elevator, with the driver and one of us on the lorry and three on the floor, where we formed a human chain and threw/passed the 4 stone bags along to the elevator. It was bloody hard work but it didn't take long to load a 10 ton lorry.

In 1963 the hard winter, it was not possible to riddle because you couldn't get a spade or pick into the soil to get it off to bare the tates. This caused the price to rise substantially so the tates were got out by tunnelling under the soil and straw, then collapsing it and removing the soil/straw before moving up and starting again. I don't know how the tates were not chilled on the rocker. but then again it was desperate times.

All of us have had bad backs, my father, my two brothers and myself, have all had spinal fusion. I know it's not something to be clever about, but in those days you worked bloody hard and there was no time to consider the harm to ourselves. Good old days, like f**k!!!

 

[Comptonfarmer]

My grandfather was a man I always admired born in 1927. His father Joseph was the local wheelright/blacksmith and then tenant farmer of Holt farm in Melbury, Dorset. His father caught TB and was bedridden after that for 5 years leaving my Grandfather to run the farm at 13. He left school at 12. He employed men 3 times his age and was milking around 30 cows by hand and used to grow a lot of dredge corn to feed them. He carried on farming there upgrading to an abreast parlour and upped his cow numbers to around 70. He always said he was the first farmer to buy a combine in Dorset, he used to tell me about the time he was crossing the railway line on his fordson N and a baler, he was in a rush and didn’t ring the operator to ask to cross so carried on. Half way across the track the tractor conked out and wouldn’t start back up. A train came and smashed the lot to smitherines luckily no one was hurt, he always said he was more afraid of telling my grandmother what had happened! He was great character with a wicked sense of humour, never spent any money and worked hard. He had massive arms and at 82 when he “retired” he still would throw 50kg sacks of spuds about like nothing.
He got a bit forgetful as he got older... he bought a brand new zetor 6211 in the 90s and decided to change the oil one day, drained the oil and changed the filter then forgot to put any oil back in! Drove up the road and the thing siezed solid! Filled it back with oil rang the dealer and said it just siezed, got a full engine rebuild under warranty hah
Another time he went to look at a new square baler to buy liked it and asked the bloke how much it was, “two and a half “ the guy said so grandad gave him his cheque book for him to write the cheque thinking he meant 250 quid! 2.5k later and when he realised what he’d done he hid the baler in a field the other side of the farm because he was to scared to tell my grandmother again. He used to tell loads of funny stories ahh poor chap died at 87 and said on his death bed to me, don’t take life too seriously it’s too long! Ha

 

[Ramrod]

My grandfather, LEGEND , in the pubs, not so good at farming. He was invalided out of the war and offered a smallholding on the local Ministry of Ag estate, which was a compulsory purchase from Guys Hospital, about 5000 acres, to enable returning soldiers to get a start in agriculture, it was split down to 20-30 acre smallholdings.
One particular day after a previous wet time and during a dry window it was decided to cut some corn with the binder, he got everybody there, climbed on the seat, started to move the horses, but the ground was to wet for the land wheel to grip, it just slid along making a rut. he decided to end the day there and go to the pub. He did cut it another day and we, all his grand children, stouked the sheaves. After drying they were carted and stacked. Then a while later the thrashing tackle with a puffing billy (single cylinder(may of been an Avis, not sure)) would come down the road, set up and thrash the stack, we, the kids were given the job of killing mice and rats that tried to run to the next stack.

The first combine used was a Lanz with built in buncher (baler) owned by the local contractor, which cut the corn dropped bunches and bags of corn all around the field, these were then collected by hand, lifted on to a cart. Quite a few years later dad took us (3 sons) to the Smithfield show, it was when MF brought out the 500 series combine, which was a tanker and capable of much more output per hour.
We were standing on the MF stand where a rather posh lady with a plum in her mouth asked the salesman "Do you do a bagger" this cracked the old man up, as he new how hard work it was bagging on the tiny Lanz. Happy Days.

 

[fingermouse]

There was good trade in empty fertiliser bags around here. Stan Parker or “Stan the bag” as he was known would give good money for them.
I don’t know who he sold them on to but that was his trade.
It used to infuriate me that two of my uncles insisted on cutting them lengthways making them worthless.

I have spread many many tons of fertiliser out of cwt bags with a bucket and cup never mind the 7cwt Vicon.

I remember a bag man his name was Stan Green
And I remember as a kid tying fert bags and bundles of dusty mice n rat nibbled empty paper feed bags that had been chucked in a corner in the meal house into was it 50,s think He paid a penny a bag He had an uncanny knack of picking all the side slit ones out I had chanced into the bundles rememember dad going spare if I cut a bag and didn’t undo it on the string had a Commer van I think then progressed onto a transit flatbed it always amazed me how high he stacked them

 

[Flat 10]

Grandad used to have the pallets of small bag fert lifted onto a trailer by a small industrial forklift at the local mill so they were never unloaded.

 

[Kidds]

I remember a bag man his name was Stan Green
And I remember as a kid tying fert bags and bundles of dusty mice n rat nibbled empty paper feed bags that had been chucked in a corner in the meal house into was it 50,s think He paid a penny a bag He had an uncanny knack of picking all the side slit ones out I had chanced into the bundles rememember dad going spare if I cut a bag and didn’t undo it on the string had a Commer van I think then progressed onto a transit flatbed it always amazed me how high he stacked them

It will be the same man, but definitely Parker.
He lived the other side of the road from the Bulls Head, Clotton.

 

[fingermouse]

It will be the same man, but definitely Parker.
He lived the other side of the road from the Bulls Head, Clotton.

Ah no our man came from Malpas
Stan must have been the name to have in the bag game

 

[tullah]

At 16 I would show off to the older hunched up men on the farm how fast I could carry off and stack up ten ton of nitrogen in bags. This made their day of course. Hell of a back since early twenties.

 

[micthwic]

I never minded shifting bags or conc blocks at least they "sat" still.Lifting sodding struggling calves , did my back. When young I always thought guys winging about a bad back were malingerers ; once you get a taste you think different. Have to keep moving though.

 

[glasshouse]

got this 1874 diary at a sale at carlisle along a lot of others.
Hard to read. Dont know who or where.

 

[theboytheboy]

I never minded shifting bags or conc blocks at least they "sat" still.Lifting sodding struggling calves , did my back. When young I always thought guys winging about a bad back were malingerers ; once you get a taste you think different. Have to keep moving though.

I always thought the same in my early to mid 20's, "lazy old skiving gits"....now I've got a knackered back.......

 

[Cab-over Pete]

On the fert bags and spreaders, I remember Dad had a 7cwt Vicon wagtail on the MF 165. He would put the 7 bags in and then put two on the top with a split in the side (we didn’t get Stan The Bag Man round our way!) so that they would empty themselves as he spread.

It always made me laugh as he pulled away and the tractor front wheels would rear up as he manoeuvred down the field using his brakes!


With the sheep, Dad sold a lot of lambs to a chap named Steve Cusworth. We would get them all in, draft off (or catch, manhandle and fight to get them out!!) say 30 and Mr Cusworth would arrive in his car and pick the best from them. One day when I was about 12-13 years old Dad was busy so it fell to me to get them in and sort the lambs Dad had marked earlier. On that day Mr Cusworth took every lamb and I remember I had my chest puffed out for a while thinking I had made the difference!

I think Dad took them to John Bausors little abbatoir right in the centre of old town Kenilworth for Mr Cusworth. Sometimes for him, sometimes they were for John Bausor for his shop and occasionally a few for private sale. I loved going to Bausors and now when I go through the old town I can’t believe it was ever there on the spot new houses now stand.

I know someone who used to live in one of the new houses when they were first built. I told them their lovely house is stood on the very spot the lairage was and they were absolutely horrified!! They didn’t stay long.

 

[glasshouse]

W

On the fert bags and spreaders, I remember Dad had a 7cwt Vicon wagtail on the MF 165. He would put the 7 bags in and then put two on the top with a split in the side (we didn’t get Stan The Bag Man round our way!) so that they would empty themselves as he spread.

It always made me laugh as he pulled away and the tractor front wheels would rear up as he manoeuvred down the field using his brakes!


With the sheep, Dad sold a lot of lambs to a chap named Steve Cusworth. We would get them all in, draft off (or catch, manhandle and fight to get them out!!) say 30 and Mr Cusworth would arrive in his car and pick the best from them. One day when I was about 12-13 years old Dad was busy so it fell to me to get them in and sort the lambs Dad had marked earlier. On that day Mr Cusworth took every lamb and I remember I had my chest puffed out for a while thinking I had made the difference!

I think Dad took them to John Bausors little abbatoir right in the centre of old town Kenilworth for Mr Cusworth. Sometimes for him, sometimes they were for John Bausor for his shop and occasionally a few for private sale. I loved going to Bausors and now when I go through the old town I can’t believe it was ever there on the spot new houses now stand.

I know someone who used to live in one of the new houses when they were first built. I told them their lovely house is stood on the very spot the lairage was and they were absolutely horrified!! They didn’t stay long.

why would they be horrified?

 

[Woolgatherer]

Old lad near here was employed to spread the silage on the pit with a fork when it was buckraked up.
contractor did not turn up one day and there was two loads tipped in the yard from the night before.
When contractor came back after rain or repairs the old lady had the two loads put on the pit with only a fork

It used to be my job to spread the silage on the pit! My OH drove the tractor that dumped the silage for the buck rake. That's how I met him!

 

[glasshouse]

After the sowing season with wee bags in to a combine drill i could scrum anyone off the park!

 

[Cab-over Pete]

W

why would they be horrified?

Bunny hugging vegan types if I recall correctly. I think they found me crass and common and the abbatoir story was the final straw. Can’t remember how we met now, not the sort I mingle with!

 

[Derrick Hughes]

Not a really old memory, but I do remember trying to help unload 50kg fert bags which were always sticky.
Blue bags with sticky brown glue all over them.

I would have imagined you as the Basic Slag Man .those little paper bags that weighted like lead . I arrived back from School one day and there was an artic load parked in the yard here .Dad has gone out for the day . Me and the driver unloaded by hand no problem. It's what we did

 

[Cab-over Pete]

Bit before my time but many old boys round here remember collecting those paper bags from their nearest train station.

 

[glasshouse]

Bunny hugging vegan types if I recall correctly. I think they found me crass and common and the abbatoir story was the final straw. Can’t remember how we met now, not the sort I mingle with!

I know where a new house has just been built on the site of a small crematorium!