Alison O'Neill had always wanted to farm and has certainly found her niche. Emily Ashworth meets her to find out how she has built her business up from nothing.
Alison O'Neill's entire home is accentuated with woollen creations - the curtains, a lampshade, a wall hanging.
In fact, on each seat around the table is a handmade chair cover, all made from the wool of her sheep, or, as she lovingly refers to them, ‘the girls'.
It is clear that this place is her haven, her pride and joy - and joy is something Alison can easily find in most situations.
She is, to say the least, a ‘get up and get on with it' kind of woman, but it has not been all plain sailing, relaying her story from her humble beginnings at Shackla Bank farm 23 years ago, to her thriving wool business which now sees her ship her much sought-after products across the UK and overseas.
Alison, 57, came to her ‘little hill farm' near Sedbergh, in the Yorkshire Dales, with just £60 in the bank and nothing but a desire to farm.
It is everything she wanted, and, quite frankly, you would be hard pressed to find a better view - Shackla Bank rises to 591 feet and overlooks the iconic Howgill Fells.
Having grown up on a farm in Garsdale, which was historically a part of west Yorkshire, Alison can ream off many of her childhood memories, and her upbringing played a huge part in her eventually coming back into the farming industry after years of travelling and working for the Government.
"I always helped my father and my grandfather, but wasn't doing the graft, or experiencing the dirty work - or the death," says Alison.
"I created this beautiful idea of what farming was. I saw the good side.
"But I can remember it was raining - proper lambing weather - and my dad came in with this lamb under his jacket. He put me in a cardboard box with it to warm it up.
"That was it, I wanted to be a farmer, but a lot would change before that. By the time I was 12, the farm was sold. My family knew there was no money in hill farming - my dad was a bin man and a grave digger to supplement the farm."
Decision
In 1999, Alison made the decision to look for a farm and within six months she was back living in the valley she grew up in.
There was also the added pressure of Alison being heavily pregnant, and with no resources, it was only when she saw a small advert in the local paper that her dream started to become a reality.
"It was 37 acres and it said to apply in writing," she says, and at which point, she proceeds to pull out a rather large, old iron key.
"I mentioned my family name, Winns, - there's a Yorkshire saying, ‘how's t' bred', and I think that was what did it. I was handed this key and it was a key of possibility. It was one of the happiest days of my life."
With an old 4x4, a sheepdog and a trailer, Alison set out to stock the farm and renovate the dilapidated farmhouse at Shackla Bank.
Her daughter, Scarlett, was born soon after, following a rigorous day of shifting bales.
Baby in tow, Alison admits that there were a lot of stumbling blocks and she felt pressure to fill the fields with sheep. She was desperate for Rough Fells, but bought some old, cast ewes, borrowed a tup in the November and eventually lambed her first sheep in the following April.
"I always remember my grandma saying to me, ‘this will be hard work, you'll never live on a view'," says Alison.
"She was right, it's hard."
Not one to be deterred, after that first lambing season Alison began taking her stock to market.
She says: "I did what farmers shouldn't and named them and fell in love with them. I never felt comfortable taking them to slaughter. When I had to make the decisions, I appreciated what my father and grandfather did.
"But I will never forget a chap leaning on the ring at the market and telling me my grandfather would be proud of me."
Tweed
In the following years, Alison diversified into nature walks, becoming a guide and travels up and down the country to lead people on various excursions. She also set up a shepherd's hut and has managed to navigate her small business through devastating events such as foot-and-mouth.
With a young daughter and a farm to pay for, she made it work and was actually slightly ahead of the curve by opening up the farm to the public over fifteen years ago.
"There's a huge amount of people who want to experience life on a farm," says Alison.
But her next venture is what has given her the reputation she now has - and a healthy social media following with over 21,000 followers on Instagram and almost 40,000 on Twitter.
The price of wool has for a long time been a burden on many farmers, but ten years ago, disheartened by this, Alison had the idea to turn her wool into tweed, even though nobody was sure it could be done with wool from breeds such as Rough Fells and Swaledales.
"Dad said, why are you moaning? Do something about it. My first thought was tweed, and why can't I use wool from my sheep? At the time, I wasn't aware of anyone else doing it," she says.
But it completely works. It is all spun and washed and carded locally, and she makes jackets, which on average sell for £600, and home interiors. Her latest best-selling product is wool dog leads, selling 5,000 last Christmas alone.
It was Scarlett who set her mum up on social media, as a vehicle to sell. And although it has served its purpose, it has become much more than that and Alison has become well-known for being ‘a one-woman farm', inspiring other female farmers as well as resonating with those who simply want a slice of country living.
It is something she has always been aware of, and from a young age recognised that women were more often than not, unseen.
She says: "When I was little there wasn't a lot of women farming. Well, there were but you would never hear about them. But I wanted to be like my grandad - spit, swear and smoke a pipe, go to the auction mart and have a roast dinner. I didn't want to be in the kitchen baking scones.
"Ninety per cent of my followers are women."
Place
Looking back to how her farming journey first started, Alison is where she has always meant to be.
She now runs 150 Rough Fells, Swaledales and Herdwicks, all part of her fibre flock which are all bred for wool, and her affinity with animals and nature has never waned, despite the hardships.
But what is in store for Shackla Bank?
She says: "Most little hill farms are being sold. I've had very little help but have lived frugally - people need a hand up, not a handout.
"Many will have to diversify but I don't want to see them disappear. The Government needs to look to help our nation of farmers. My tenancy has gone from ten years to five years and that's scary.
"But I love the solitude here, I love the nature and I love the freedom.
"It's been the hardest but happiest 23 years of my life."
