I hate ragwort and, if I can, I try to delegate the chore of removing it from the fields to anyone who offers.

Today I joined Daisy and did as much as my back would let me, which was two bin-bags’ worth.

Ragwort (Senecio jacobaea), for those that have not come across this vile (though pretty) plant, grows in our fields.  It tastes bitter to horses while it is growing but is more palatable when it has died back and that is where the problems start.  The toxic effect from eating it builds up over time, causing irreparable damage to the liver of livestock – horses, cows, sheep, even chickens.

I know ragwort pretty and I know bees love the flowers but they will just have to love all the others that grow in the field instead because our ragwort must be pulled up, bagged and then burnt.

After my two bags’ worth, I gave up, grabbed my camera and took some photos instead.

I always love dear Vitamin’s triangular shape.  She is an old lady, after all, who has had quite a few foals.

Newt was trying to take a chunk out of Tiddles.  He was in one of those moods.

Fivla found a special pile of grass which she just had to have.

Is this the monster from the deep or Waffle?

Storm is still not talking to me.

The Reformed Newt again. He is beginning to grow his winter yak fur.

Meanwhile, Daisy was still doing sterling work and yes, she did fall in the stream.  I asked her if she had, she said no, and then fell in!  Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned it.  She was jinxed.

No one laughed – well, not much!