Tag Archives: fence

Tick, tick, tick . . .

by . Posted on
03 Mar

I left a message for George the other day since he’s been doing his Scarlet  Pimpernel trick and impersonating the invisible man.  It said: ‘tick, tick, tick, George.  That’s the sound of time ticking away in the lead up to 15th March.  WHERE ARE YOU?  Tick, tick, tick . . . ‘

Bless him, he’s kept it on his machine and says it gives him his daily laugh!
The message seems to have worked though because he’s fronted up finally (what’s he trying to do, give me a heart attack?) and has dismantled the cattle yards (at last, at last!) although the constant rain means he’s also created a mud bath on the river flat and down my drive, which after all my dedicated grass seeding over the last five months, has broken my little heart!  Oh well, I guess you pay a price for everything in life!
He’s been back in the big gully by the house snigging out the trees into a big pile for burning and he promises me, faithfully, that next week he and his brother, Rex, are going to be putting up my much maligned semi-circular fence from gate to gate to separate the house paddock from the farm.  This is the fence that I saw as clear as crystal in my mind’s eye from even before I took possession and everyone has told me can’t be done.  Now you know me, the best way to make me bull-headed is to use the word ‘can’t ‘ . . . . so I’ve been patient, persistent, petulant and precious by turns about it and George and I have had many a head to head over  it.  Finally he has capitulated (sometimes the easy way out is the best way forward!) and roped in his younger brother (who looks ten years older than George) to give him a helping hand.
I had to take my car in for a lengthy stay at the car doctor.  I don’t think I told you about my little prang.  The only way I can describe the weather we have had over the last three months is by saying it has been ‘typically English’ . . .  wet, wet, wet.  So when the plumber was her the other week weaving his magic over my new bathroom and getting ready for my new kitchen, he had to drive in with all his tools then drive out again straightaway as the river was rising over the bridge.  When he finished for the day I drove him and his tools back over to the other side of the river to reunite him with his car and was just about to drive down the dip when I thought ‘this looks a bit slippery, he’d better not drive down here’ and I engaged 4 wheel.  To no avail.  Instead of going forwards I slid sideways – straight into the bullbar on George’s truck!  Which, of course, did absolutely no damage to the bullbar, and wiped out my drivers wing!  I guess it never rains, but it pours!
We have been waiting and waiting for the weather to clear even for a day so we can have our farm road graded.  We’ve been waiting since Christmas.  Finally they came on Monday and Tuesday and did a relly great job turning our rutted old goat track into something resembling a road.  On Wednesday we had 4 and a half inches of rain in under 3 hours.  Even the stalwart, resilient, and endlessly optimistic Ged just sat on the verandah and cried.  One step forward, ten steps back, are we ever going to get there . . . are we there yet, are we there yet, are we there yet  . . . ?
You know when I get a bee in my bonnet about something I just go out there and will the universe to please me (!)  Well, last week I got fed up of worrying and waiting about our new kitchen benchtop which with Scott’s heavy work schedule seemed like an impossible dream, and he was having problems with the tallowood etc so I just said ‘Leave it to me!’  I got out the yellow pages, let my fingers do the walking, and my sweet voice do the talking and found a mob in Wauchope prepared to bend over backwards to give me what I wanted.  You’ve never seen anyone get washed, dressed, and in the car so fast – I was like Penelope Pitstop on speed!!
We picked it up on Monday and it looks fantastic.  How far we have come, how long we have journeyed, how much we appreciate this moment in time . . . .

The Rich Tapestry of Rural Life

by . Posted on
20 Aug
I have had this horrible cold which seems to be doing the rounds. I put mine down to the draughty floor and those freezing days and nights and the lack of insulation in the roof, rather than catching it, but I have been pretty miz (aka The Widow Cranky!) this week and had a couple of ‘home’ days. Monday I was burning up with fever and the urge for a big cleanup, so had a bonfire and set fire to my hair! Lordy, my eyelashes and fringe have only just recovered from when the gas hot water system exploded, and I had to go and singe away my crowning glory once more! I also got myself in a complete tangle trying to do everything myself, and being impatient and had to holler for help! I was moving a big pile of rusty old metal down to the tin skip (I was on a mission!) and managed a lot in the trailer but then had to do the bigger items one by one with the car and my trusty old tow rope (thank you Chichester Chandlery). I did the big iron bath ok but didn’t really think through the old farm thing with wheels (whoops!) Oh well, Ged to the rescue and no real harm done but I have to learn that there are some things I CAN’T do on my own and wait for someone to assist me!
I was also pulling up fireweed and pulling down a fence – it was a gorgeous day to be out and about and getting some annoying little tasks out of the way. Tuesday I was in the office all day and ploughing through work but after another night tossing and turning and having horrible nightmares I decided I was well and truly exhausted and needed a day in bed to try and shake this fluey cold thing off. There’s no rest for the wicked, though, and George turned up just after midday. Apparently one of the cows is dead in the river from ‘black leg’ and so he had to muster the herd into the yards and immunise them. He unloaded his patient grey mare from the back of the truck and rode down into the river bed to flush them out onto the flat. My two were more of a hindrance than a help, galloping around aimlessly and Tinkerbell bucking at all the excitement. I was driving the car to prevent the cows bolting up the gully so I didn’t get you a picture of George on his trusty steed, surrounded by his pack of proper working dogs, driving the mob towards me, but I did grab a quick pic after the work was done so you can see ‘the man from Ellenborough river’! for yourselves.

Man, cows are stupid creatures! My first experience of ‘cow work’ and we put them in the chute and crush ten at a time for George to stab them with the needle gun and they were jumping on top of each other and trying to turn around in the crush and I was sure one of them was going to break its neck! But they all survived and hopefully we won’t lose any more . . .

George will move the dead cow out of the river and take it up onto the high country and trap it for dingoes and I must get my tie rail in this week so I can start riding at last . . . I had the most alarming conversation with George the other day. Because he is a Seventh Day Adventist we have our vegetarianism in common so I said a while ago that I would cook up some extra for him and Marcia. Of course he protested but it’s no skin off my nose – I cook enough for the army anyway! So I gave him some of my famous chilli beans the other day and when he asked me what to do with them I said ‘add some water and simmer . . ‘ and he said ‘what’s simmer?’ so I explained . . . and when I gave him veggie curry this week he asked what to do with it, so I said the same and then suggested some rice to go with it . . . ‘I can only cook eggs and boil water’ he told me. My God, what have those two been surviving on for the four years since Marcia became ill?
My thermals have finally arrived from M&S just as spring awakens but I have to say I am loving being so snug and warm in my long johns and long sleeved vests – what is the slit at the front for???
Something strange is stirring in the heavens above and I can hear the patter of rain on the tin roof . . . thanks for your encouraging responses to ‘Mad Cow’ and it’s good to have this opportunity to log my misadventures and endeavours as well as the myriad people co-creating my dream. Last week my lovely Jehovah’s Witness neighbour, Chris Latimore, who has recently retired from running the sawmill on his property, delivered the wood he had kindly agreed to cut for my house. Beautiful Tallowood for the big upright beams and benchtops throughout, as well as hardwood beams and posts for the building work. Another neighbour who had heard me describe my dream and ‘got the picture’ and given me EXACTLY what I wanted and all done with true zen. He and his wife, Ruth, are very lovely gentle folk and it was a pleasure to do business with them and now to have the means to make my house dream come true (now for the builder to fall out of the sky . . . !)

GEORGE

Happy Horse Homecoming

by . Posted on
30 Jul
The horses came home!  Very sleek and slim and still in the head.  As if they’ve been off on a yoga and detox retreat for six weeks!  They couldn’t believe there was grass at the end of their stint of starvation so they were snatching every tuft as I walked them in from the Angle so as not to risk them or the truck on the rough road on the property.

My rushed endeavours to fence a paddock for them had backfired.  I had hired someone I didn’t like or trust to do a day’s fencing for me and he had done the most appalling job.  A blind, cack handed city slicker could have created something with more finesse.  So I tried diplomacy but he was an aggro little bush pig so in the end I had to give him the straight talking he could understand!  And I learned a good country lesson.  it’s better to wait for the experts however long it takes than to rush in and create a mess that has to be fixed later.

The horses didn’t like that paddock anyway so they have migrated up onto the House Ground and despite the complete lack of fences and the cattle wandering on, off and round, have made no attempt to stray further.

As I was walking the horses in and showing them their new home another truck with the roof insulation was trying to find us so I had to wade through the river and walk up the hill to try and track him down as I had left the car up on the ridge where I had met the horse truck.  Despite the driver’s insistence that he didn’t want to risk getting bogged on the property I thought I knew better . . . and sure enough he got stuck with no way forward and no way back on the damp red dirt on the other side of Hoppy’s Bridge (as we all call the cement causeway that John & Sally Hopkins put in ten years or so ago).  We were going nowhere fast until I remembered all the carpet we had ripped out of the house and drove round and retrieved it piece by piece (Lord, I really need a ute for the farm!).  Still, it took almost three hours to get him free, unload the insulation into the trailer and deliver it down to the house and into the garage and get him off again. Another big lesson – can’t bring a six wheeler with a lazy axle onto Avalon again!
Whoever thought that living in the country meant a quiet life??

The end to that extraordinary day was when I literally ran out of petrol halfway down the long thin river paddock!  Thank God for Ged (Mr Solar and a neighbour) who brought me fuel and is determined to be a knight in shining armour to this damsel in stress!