The UK government's sustainable farming incentive opened this year and was oversubscribed within hours. Farmers who weren't at their laptops at the right moment missed out entirely. The diarist submitted an application in time; many did not, and now face genuine uncertainty about their farm businesses' viability. The message is clear: demand for transition support vastly outstrips supply. Simultaneously, the diarist's 67-cow fell farm has been shut down with bovine TB since June. A shutdown means no sales of breeding stock — only direct-to-slaughter, at worse prices. The financial pressure is compounding. The farm needed to retest to clear the herd, but delays stacked up: a son's wedding, and the loss of their previous vet, who stopped taking farm animals because it was uneconomical. The logistics of compliance are punishing. Getting 67 heavily pregnant cows down from 1,200ft of fell country took a full day. One calved en route on the hillside, requiring a quad bike and trailer recovery operation and a separate reunification at the farm garden. The herd then received two TB injections on day one, with results assessed by day four. By day four, 66 cows had cleared. One developed a 3mm lump — an "inconclusive reactor." That single animal must be isolated and retested in 60 days. The entire herd is shut down again. No breeding sales, no financial flexibility, no resolution for at least two more months. The vet shortage is a quiet structural crisis layered underneath. When rural veterinary practices stop serving farm animals because the economics don't work, the farms that depend on them are forced into longer delays and wider search areas, compounding every other problem. This is infrastructure failure dressed as a business decision. Two policy systems are failing the same farmer at once. The sustainable farming incentive is popular enough to prove the policy concept works, but underfunded enough to turn it into a lottery. The TB testing regime protects public health but imposes all costs on the individual farmer — including the costs of delay, isolation, and lost breeding revenue — with no compensation mechanism visible in the account. The diarist's closing line — "we need to think carefully about what we do next, for the sake of the cows, and ourselves" — is the sound of a farm considering whether it can continue. Multiply this across every small hill farm dealing with similar shutdowns and you have a slow-motion structural exit from marginal farming.