Amanda Owen’s Christmas on a 2,000-acre farm: 9 kids, a 40lb turkey, no John Lewis—could you manage?

Amanda Owen’s Christmas on a 2,000-acre farm: 9 kids, a 40lb turkey, no John Lewis—could you manage?

The frost bites hard in the Dales, but laughter, beasts and busy hands still crowd a farmhouse in December.

Amanda Owen has channelled those winters into her first children’s book, drawing on real events at Ravenseat and a festive routine that refuses to stop for tinsel.

A Christmas that carries on regardless

On Owen’s 2,000-acre hill farm in North Yorkshire, Christmas does not press pause on livestock, weather or machinery. Gates still stick in sleet. Ewes still need checking after dark. Tyres still split when the nearest help has shut for the holidays. The family’s day starts outside and often ends there.

Work does not stop for 25 December. It simply arrives wearing a scarf and a headtorch.

The Shepherdess, known to millions from Our Yorkshire Farm, says the season feels special precisely because the rhythm holds. She and her nine children keep feeding, fixing and ferrying as usual. That constancy brings peace. The absence of inflatable Santas and sweeping light displays is deliberate. Fairy lights risk shorting the electrics. Goats could chew cables. Practicality governs the plan.

Weather, work and the warp of routine

Winters high in the Dales bring howling winds, deep snow, needle rain and long black mornings. The family leans on routines that winter-proof the farm. Children learn to read a sky and a lambing shed noticeboard. They know which track drifts first and which gate ices solid by dusk. They also learn that a puncture will strike when help is miles away.

Resilience grows when jobs repeat, even on the quietest day of the year.

Chaos over gloss in the farmhouse

When the work lets up, the kitchen heaves. The table bulges with food and elbows. Dogs jostle for giblets. The family wrestles a 40lb turkey from an overworked oven and ladles gravy from a pan that never seems big enough. Plates rarely match. Chairs run short. No one folds napkins into birds of paradise. The scene looks nothing like a John Lewis ad, and the Shepherdess likes it that way.

Stories shaped by snow, stock and stubborn kit

Christmas Tales from the Farm, published by Puffin Books and illustrated by Becca Hall, takes that reality and turns it for young readers. The book gathers seasonal adventures seeded by the landscape and its inhabitants. The cast includes sheep, cows, chickens, dogs, horses and goats, plus human neighbours whose help and humour knit the remote community together.

Episodes draw from lived moments. A runaway reindeer bolts from a grotto onto the moor. A broken oven forces a bird to roast over open flames. Tarn ice becomes a makeshift rink for children learning to skate. The family invents their own Winter Olympics with events that borrow hurdles from fences and medals from imagination.

Every tale begins with something the family can touch, mend, herd or carry.

From mishaps to teachable moments

The tone stays wry, not twee. Owen turns fiascos into lessons about grit and kindness. A snapped belt on a quad becomes a problem-solving drill. A snowed-in lane becomes an exercise in neighbourliness. Children pick up the habit of acting first and worrying later. Readers see how practical thinking and community spirit anchor remote life.

Why real beats glossy for young readers

Owen admits she never warmed to grand fiction as a child. She chose books about animals and farms because she could grasp them. That instinct underpins her own stories. She writes scenes that smell of silage, hot batter and wet dog. Children can picture the cold on a cheek, the weight of a feed bag and the drag of a sledge through powder.

From page to stage: the winter tour

The Shepherdess takes those yarns on the road this winter with a theatre show titled Onwards and Upwards: Farming, Family and Fiascos. She shares the graft behind a TV-friendly farm and the reality of turning a derelict house called Anty John’s into a home for the next generation. She folds in festive memories that test both nerve and kit.

Date Venue
20 November Scarborough Spa
24 November Ilkley King’s Hall
5 December Scunthorpe Plowright Theatre
7 December Middlesbrough Town Hall

Life on screen, without the gloss

Television turned the family into household names, but their appeal rests on ordinary jeopardy. Our Yorkshire Farm, Amanda Owen’s Farming Lives and Reuben Owen: Life in the Dales frame the same truth: some days go right, many do not. Cameras follow breakdowns as readily as births. Their current series, Our Farm Next Door, tracks the renovation of Anty John’s, with fresh runs commissioned to follow the slog to a modern, liveable home.

Viewers come for the scenery and stay for the setbacks that feel familiar.

Owen does not preach. She refuses to spin a rulebook for parenting, farming or festive fun. She treats attention as a fair trade for the opportunities it brings. She wants her nine children to seize chances, not wait for easier weather.

What you can borrow for your own festive season

You may live far from the moor, but the Shepherdess’s December has takeaways for a tight-budget, low-stress Christmas. The plan centres on people, not props, and on doing tasks that bind a household together.

  • Choose one outdoor task for the day: a walk, a repair, or a simple wildlife count with children.
  • Let the table mismatch: spend time on food and stories, not on matching crockery.
  • Prepare a “broken kit” plan: tape, cable ties and a basic tool roll solve most small crises.
  • Swap screen time for a homemade “winter games” hour with silly, safe challenges.
  • Ask for help early: text neighbours before roads ice, and share duties where you can.

The farm facts behind the warmth

Ravenseat sits in terrain that tests stock and people. Sub-zero spells change how water, fuel and feed behave. Children learn to treat ice as a tool and a hazard. A neglected track can strand a vehicle before dawn. A loose flap on a barn can spook sheep and scatter them into a drift. The family plans for those risks and keeps spare parts close.

Food mirrors the weather. A 40lb turkey feeds a crowd that ebbs and flows with visiting friends, stray hands and workers between jobs. Dogs wrestle for scraps because head counts slide as doors open and close. The mess signals welcome, not waste. The point is company, not polish.

Books, children and the pull of the real

Christmas Tales from the Farm joins five previous titles by Owen and opens a path for six more children’s books. The illustrated pages by Becca Hall carry movement and mud, not shine. Teachers and parents can use the stories to start chats about rural safety, animal care, weather reading and teamwork. The scenes act as gentle primers on self-reliance.

Families can turn those prompts into activities. Try a kitchen “repair station” with blunt scissors, string, elastic bands and supervision. Stage a weather diary with drawings and notes, then match clothing and tasks to the day. Build a five-item emergency kit together and test it in the garden at dusk.

If you plan a winter trip to a working farm

Phone ahead, wear layers and bring spare socks. Keep to marked routes and ask before crossing fields. Pack a torch, not just a phone light. Expect plans to change if stock needs moving. Accept that the best moment of the day might be a quiet mug of tea in a draughty porch while a burst pipe gets clamped.

Gloss fades fast in cold air; authenticity lasts the whole season.

2 thoughts on “Amanda Owen’s Christmas on a 2,000-acre farm: 9 kids, a 40lb turkey, no John Lewis—could you manage?”

  1. Loved the grit-over-gloss vibe; kids learning to read the sky beats any John Lewis sparkle. The 40lb turkey scene is chaos I can get behind.

  2. Nine kids and livestock on Christmas Day—do they ever get proper rest? Genuine question, not a dig.

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