There was a time he could fix anything
\n– opening the Telegraph on his iPad –
\non a tractor himself
\n– scraping his mother\u2019s jam on his toast –<\/p>\n
everything was done by hand
\n– the printing press is dead –
\nwith a gripe, and they\u2019d pile the shit up on the midden
\n– but you wouldn\u2019t want to go back –<\/p>\n
nobody had any money in them days
\n– the government is a mess –
\nand you can\u2019t stop progress
\n– that\u2019s democracy for you –<\/p>\n
he remembers when cows had horns
\n– he is the VIIth of his name –
\nand bulls did the bulling
\n– as old as the oaks –<\/p>\n
the best website for the weather
\n– pouring his cup of tea –
\npass the baby over here, hello little lad
\n– I put more toast in the toaster –<\/p>\n
wash the units after breakfast
\n– I suspect he\u2019s the best man these acres have ever seen –
\nand look the beasts in the meder
\n– You\u2019re not wrong, say the dead, I am.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The calf smells like good strong cheddar cheese,
\nlike my baby son does sometimes –
\nhe is one year old
\nand not quite on a tractor yet.<\/p>\n
I am feeding the calf two litres of milk
\nfrom a bucket by hand,
\nand it is pulling on the two fingers
\nI have in its mouth
\nhard enough it is like to rip them clean off.<\/p>\n
I am of half a mind to stop
\nas it should be able to feed itself by now,
\nbut this lal bull insists I feed him;
\nhe can\u2019t work it out for himself,<\/p>\n
and my brother-in-law (he\u2019s the calf man)
\nwants it fed.
\nAnd God wants it fed.
\nAnd it wants fed…
\nIt breaks your back, feeding calves.<\/p>\n
I remember, as my wife slept upstairs
\nand I bottle-fed my son to give her some rest,
\nthe strangeness of feeling
\nthat there is nothing else in the world;
\nthe baby\u2019s life balanced on my knees,
\nthe lightness of love and the heaviness
\nof sudden fatherhood.<\/p>\n
The sheer strength of the old men used to intimidate me,
\nbut now I am an old man myself,
\namazed at the sheer effort of life.
\nThe struggle, the push
\nand the wrestling-with-god of hungry mouths.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I Am There was a time he could fix anything – opening the Telegraph on his iPad – on a tractor himself – scraping his mother\u2019s jam on his toast – everything was done by hand – the printing press is dead – with a gripe, and they\u2019d pile the shit up on the midden […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":44,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[379,380],"tags":[388],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n