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Wednesday 23 March 2014


Cloud streaming from top of Mount Welllington - taken from the Huon Highway

Smokey sunset over Grove

Wild sky over Grove

First frosty morning







These last weeks have been filled with making things in order to either save or make money. I’ve produced soap, hand-wash, more blackberry cordial, moisturiser, spicy tomato sauce, green tomato sauce and a hakea nut plaque – which promptly sold for $10 when I took a stall at a local garage sale last weekend.


Bronte reckons the soap is the best I’ve made. I used green oil pastels to colour it and a big bottle of eucalyptus oil for perfume. I’d intended using melted wax crayons but couldn’t track any down in Huonville – oil pastels were all I could find. They didn’t really melt in a bowl over boiling water, so I added several dollops of olive oil to help the process. Usually whatever I add for colour ends up turning murky brown once in contact with the lye (sodium hydroxide), however I was gratified to find that this batch stayed a bright light green. The smell has also remained strong. I made 32 large bars so we’ve got plenty of spares!

Luke kitted out for soap-making!

Soap just poured into moulds




I made another batch of blackberry cordial, so we have (or rather had) about 20l. I’m the one that drinks most of it (Luke having decided he doesn’t like it) and I’ve consumed rather a lot. The blackberry jelly didn’t set first time around, so I had to reheat it all and add extra pectin. It’s great now, nice and wobbly! Luke loves the jelly so it baffles me why he won’t drink the cordial which comprises almost identical ingredients.




I used the last three bars of our lemongrass soap to make hand-wash. I looked up various recipes on the net and made up my own in the end. I gave instructions to the WWOOFs who largely made it – with help from me. I’m really pleased with it this time – it’s a rather foamy gel, which works fine in normal pump bottles. We added tea tree oil, salt, moisturiser, glycerine, olive oil and honey to the grated soap and melted it all into a thick paste before gradually adding more water to get the right consistency. The girls went into a giggly panic went it separated into liquid and foam! I managed to convince them that if they turned off the heat and kept mixing it at intervals it would eventually thicken – although I wasn’t entirely sure myself.

Handwash prepared for the sale - I got the little botttles cheaply off eBay 

Our last two WWOOFs for this season, making handwash

I managed to collect around 10kg of over-ripe tomatoes at a giveaway price and converted them into spicy tomato sauce. It’s perhaps a bit more liquid than I would prefer but it’s perfectly useable. Great with chips, burgers, sausages and even salad. I guess it’s somewhere between tomato ketchup and sweet chilli sauce. I’m a major fan of the latter and have it on just about everything. Luke’s decided it’s too spicy and refuses to eat it, even though I’ve told him that once our open bottle of ketchup is finished, I’m not buying any more.


Sauce 'sterilising' in boiling water - best I could do! I did sterilise
the bottles first



Luke and Bronte have been nurturing some self-set tomatoes on the ‘veggie’ patch. I think they grew from some tomatoes that were in the trailer when I emptied it after having transported a pig. They also transplanted a few tiny ones that were growing near one of the pig feeders. They put up a temporary chicken wire fence around them to keep off the wallabies and tended to them every evening. Finally, we agreed that the tomatoes were never going to ripen so they picked a bucket-full of green ones and I transformed those into green tomato sauce. This sauce is a little thicker and not so spicy. Hopefully, Luke will eat this one! I spent ages pushing the red sauce through a sieve but didn’t bother with the green sauce as the softer seeds seemed to be incorporated into the rest of the mixture after pureeing.



The moisturiser has not been quite as successful as my other creations! It’s very thick and oily such that I hesitate to use it on my face. As I’ve run out of bought stuff I try to apply it thinly and then wipe off the excess. It’s great on my arms and legs however, just takes a while to apply. It also makes great lip balm. I read up on various ways of making moisturiser and was a bit alarmed by the potential complexities of making an emulsion of fats and water. Hence, the decision to use just fats – the aim was to use some of our home-produced lard. The strange thing about the mixture is that it has an instant warming effect! I could probably swim the channel in it – or squeeze through a tight hole. I used beeswax, lard, rosemary essence (for smell and its preservative qualities), olive oil and almond oil. My guess is that I used too much beeswax which has somehow had a thickening effect on the other oils. I’m going to try melting it down and lighten half with coconut oil and have a go at adding water and emulsifying the other half. Might end up with nothing useable!

All this frenzied making of things was motivated by two causes – one to try and save money and secondly to have produce to sell at an annual sale in Mountain River. The sale was last Sunday and since it was so close to Easter I also made a batch of scrummy hot-cross buns to sell. It made for a manic weekend of preparation, stall-tending and animal-feeding, but was worth it in the end. I didn’t make a load of money but enough to feel the effort was justified. The soap was popular and I sold something of everything, apart from my crocheted items. A bit disappointed re the latter, but it was perhaps not the best market for them. I’d made another scarf, a lacy one with beaded tassels. A number of people showed interest and admired the items, but no-one was prepared to buy.




I’d persuaded Bronte to make some bread boards and he made three great ones. One was in blackwood chain-sawed out of a large firewood log. The others were made from a large, weathered plank which lay in an old shed on our plot when we first bought it. Since then it had languished at the back of the tractor shed. When Bronte started cutting into it, most of the length split in half. After he’d cleaned up the remainder it became clear that it was rare Huon pine. It was the characteristic lovely yellowy-gold colour with incredibly close grain reflecting the slow growth of this tree which can live for thousands of years. Unfortunately we didn’t manage to sell any of these boards, but again it just depends who turns up on the day.




The sale was quite poorly advertised, with not nearly as many visitors as the previous year. Like a dummy I completely forgot to take any photos of the stall, which is a shame as it looked very attractive. Bronte and Luke spent quite some time with me and for the rest of the time I crocheted a new scarf.

On the farm, the guinea-fowl saga has continued. As you know I lost the first batch of babies in the incubator when we had an extended power cut. The second batch was successful despite another couple of power cuts. I was ready for one with the inverter but the other caught me out but luckily was short. We had 9 cute babies that survived and are now just over seven weeks old. I put a few ‘for sale’ cards out at work and in the Grove Shop and a chap from Mountain River bought two this week. I hope they survive because we found one dead a few days before he arrived and another died a couple of days later. No idea what had caused this – perhaps a combination of cold nights and trying to introduce them to adult food mixed in with their crumbles. I’ve since put the timer back on so they get heat for a few hours overnight and may have to keep them inside for a couple of weeks longer than planned. We had our first frost recently so it would be a bit much for the poor little mites if they went outside now.


Trying to save a sick guinea-fowl keet

Amazing the guinea hen laid a third batch of eggs – I could hardly believe it. We had no idea how long she’d sat on the eggs (because the WWOOFs had been feeding the birds over the previous week) or even if she’d begun sitting at all. We transferred them to the incubator and I carefully turned them and checked them for 28 days expecting cracks to appear at any time during the last few days. On the 28th day, Luke and I finally candled them. Four were obviously infertile and the rest seemed odd and unformed with the air gap large and slanted .I concluded they were probably no good and wondered if they’d been started and then died half-way through for some reason. We cracked one open to check and it was full of half-formed bird gunk. With regret I tossed them all into the food-scraps box.

The following day I was putting something into the scrap box and heard a cheep. I was mortified and quickly found something with which to open the eggs. All of them - excepting the one I’d cracked open and the four infertile ones – had fully grown viable chicks in them. Three were alive amazingly but very weak. Bronte had switched on the incubator while I opened the eggs so I transferred the three live ones (still in half their eggs) into that to warm up. Some hours later I carefully extracted them and left them to dry. Just before going to bed I dribbled some sugar water onto their beaks to try and give them strength. In the morning, one was dead but the other two were very much alive. It was Easter day and they were like an Easter miracle. I was terribly upset at having effectively consigned the others to death. I couldn’t believe how unlucky I’d been to have cracked the one bad egg.

On Easter morning Luke helped me move the older keets into the adjoining brooder cage and set up the first one for the two remaining chicks. Worryingly, they straightway showed signs of badly splayed legs, one worse than the other. It was perhaps a product of their bad start in life and also because there were days when I was working and only turned them twice a day. That might also have explained the very slanted air gap and why I’d misread the candling. Determined not to let these ones die on me or have to be put down, I carefully taped their little legs to bits of card and pinioned them into suitable containers – one into a large matchbox. I released them the following morning and to my great pleasure and relief they started walking properly once their legs had strengthened. It’s still early days and I’m not counting my chicks so to speak, but I’ve got my fingers crossed!




In my last post I mentioned losing some birds to swollen ‘knees’ and bad limps. I went back over everything that might have changed for this last batch of birds. The only thing I could think of was that the commercial chick crumbles changed during this time. One bag that I bought looked quite different from previous batches. It appeared darker and the lumps were much bigger and differently formed – as if they’d been milled down from full-size pellets. It had been a nuisance and we’d had to use the pestle and mortar to make the bits small enough for tiny birds to swallow. This suggests that the formulation had also changed and not for the better. Since I’ve started adding extra calcium and vitamins to the feed, the birds have improved. Ones that were beginning to limp have got better. Only one turkey now has a slight limp, but it doesn’t affect its mobility and it’s not getting worse. Clearly the limping was owing to the dreaded rickets. I’m not taking any chances now with the keets, I’m adding minerals and milk and egg to ensure they get enough vitamins and particularly, calcium.

I continued to lose the occasional bird to some unidentified predator and continued to set the trap daily. In the end we caught four quolls! They are meant to be rare, but we’ve seen increasing numbers over the last few years, even as road kill. These are the small Eastern quolls, beautiful glossy creatures with pointed snouts and pink noses. They are dark brown to black with white spots and a longish tail with white brush at the end. They are incredibly fierce little animals and snarl and fight when cornered. I relocated ours several kilometres away and we’ve had no trouble since. One unfortunately got itself half in and half out of a tiny hole in the trap and I had to put it down in the end. The chap who bought two guinea-fowl also mentioned that he’d seen more quolls around of late. Good for the quolls of course, but not so great for poultry-keepers. They can squeeze through tiny gaps in fences and climb like squirrels.

The birds have been eating us out of house and home, therefore even though they were not as mature as I would have preferred, I have culled the oldest gobblers and roosters (except Clive the Attacker of course). Clive has been a bit more subdued of late perhaps because he’s moulting and feeling sorry for himself. I’ve been able to feed his flock, catch birds and wander around in his pen, without fear of attack. We’ve now got four turkeys and three roosters in the freezer. The others are too young as yet. Unfortunately the remaining young turkeys seem to be predominately male. There is only one big bronze hen with Clive at present, so I’m hoping the younger reds turn out to be female.


Giant egg laid by our champion egg-layer
Our new ducks are getting much bigger now

I’ve clipped the goats’ hooves twice in the preceding weeks, the last time just a few days ago when I also drenched them and treated their hooves for rot as a precautionary measure, now that the rains have started. I also tackled the awfully smelly Rocky the buck. He kicked and fought me the whole time while Henry the sheep looked on in horror and tried to steal Rocky’s bowl of food. I had tied Rocky to a stake with a belt and as a secondary measure also fixed the tether chain to the stake and around his two collars. The collars were loose when he arrived but now he’s filled out with good care and food they are almost too tight.


Rocky with a bit of bush caught between his horns!

When I’d finished I walked him by the tether up to the does. Luckily he came quite readily and I didn’t have to haul him. Henry walked faithfully by his side. The instant that Rocky and Henry came amongst the girls, the herd dynamic was upset. Goats scattered in all directions, Rocky snorted and bristled and Henry run amok. A few days later they do seem to have settled and Rocky is most certainly the boss. No one else is allowed to eat from his trough or his side of the hay dispenser. Henry seems a bit at a loss however, as his friend has now deserted him. I’m planning on despatching poor Henry shortly and am looking up how to tan and clean sheepskin with the aim of having a further item to sell.

Rocky upsetting the goats

After moving Rocky and Henry I opened up the new gates between theirs and the farrowing pen in order to let Blaize through. Now I’ve got Blaize and Peppa in separate neighbouring pens. They are due to farrow in around 3 weeks’ time, but already Blaize is restless and collecting dry grass, bracken and other nesting material. She had been pacing around the pen and actually got out earlier this week. I looked out the window to see her barrelling around on the outside of the pen. With Bronte’s help I lured her back in with some tasty food and then had to repair the damage to the fences. It seems a short had occurred when some insulation had slipped and having detected that the fence wasn’t working, she set to work to destroy part of it. Once it was fixed up I heard a couple of squeals from her as she tested it again with her nose. Blaize seems happier in the new pen on her own and I plan to give them all a load of new bedding material today so they can nest-build to their hearts’ content. Their behaviour is really quite endearing.

Blaize collecting nesting material

Luke and I had a bonfire in her new pen in order to clear up all the sticks left from feeding browse to Rocky and Henry. Blaize was most intrigued and ran off with a bag of kindling I’d bought with us. When I walked around the fence pulling up bracken she started collecting it. Also we found several twiggy branches that she’d carefully arranged in one of the huts. Yesterday afternoon I sprayed around all the three electric fenced pens near the house including Blaize’s. She followed me round twice (I do both sides of the fence to ensure a clear strip), most curious to see what I was up to. I just hope it had time to work as it poured with rain overnight.

Blaize and blaze - and Luke

While the WWOOFs were still with us I got them to work on cleaning up the hay sheds on our new land, down by the creek. They also pulled down a horrible old fence that was held up with old pallets and looked a real mess. I hastily had to replace the fence as the cows were in the paddock on the other side of the creek and could cross and get onto the road at any time. I’ve put in a posh new braced corner post, stakes and six strands of barbed wire, but still haven’t finished actually fastening the wire to all the stakes. There is a small gap at on end which needs closing and the sheds and the cattle yard need a lot of work. I intend eventually to put a fence close against the road so there will be a square cattle enclosure or somewhere where animals can be safely loaded/ unloaded. It will also stop all the cheeky four-wheel drivers from parking on our land. They regularly park across the gate down there and in front of the cattle ramp without knowing whether either will be used.

Big hay shed

Hay shed showing cattle yard alongside

Start of new fence

Big but rickety shed on other side of the road on our new land

Before I could start building the new fence, there was a lot of old junk to be moved, which had been too heavy for the WWOOFs. This included several concrete posts which must have weighed 100kg or more each. I managed to move them end over end, leaving 3 good ones for the new fence (eventually) and two broken ones which Bronte helped me load onto the ute. He and Luke visited me on the ride-on mower. They attach the old go-cart to the back so Luke can sit on that (or occasionally the other way around). I tried sitting on it and felt most unsafe being so close to the ground and exposed – I’m sticking to my little Suzuki!






All the large lumps of concrete, bricks and rocks which we cleared up from around the sheds, have been dumped up by the goat yard. There is a section between the fence and a spring-fed marshy area through which I can only drive in the middle of summer. I’d love to fill this so it’s useable all year round. I’ve had a pile of gravel delivered which still sits there. Really the aggregate they bought me is much too small and I need to get lots of larger fill down first.

My main priority at present is to paint the whole exterior of the house but it’s a trial trying to find time to fit painting in around all the other jobs – and earning a living of course! We decided that the windows should really be tackled first as they are in quite a state on the North and West sides of the house. I’ve managed to get the main sliding doors done around the upstairs deck – they probably represent quite a large percentage of window-frame area. Each has had four coats – two wet-on-wet undercoats and then two top-coats. Really I’d left it a little late and the frames would have benefited from being completely sanded back. That just seemed much too hard a job however and would have taken forever. Instead I’m brushing them vigorously with a scrubbing brush which removes all the loose paint, before cleaning with turps. So the finished windows do not look as beautiful as they might, but at least they are protected for another few years. I’m nervous about tackling some of the higher windows and am not at all sure how to do the very highest ones on the Southern end of the house, where the ground falls away from the house.



Newly painted lounge windows

Newly painted sliding door
  
Bronte has been planning to build a greenhouse with car-port attached on the site of our horrid old caravan. As usual he’s spent an age planning and researching, prevaricating and debating before actually getting on with it. I’ve had to listen endlessly to the merits of twin-wall polycarbonate over corrugated plastic and review several design iterations. Finally the only thing standing in the way of the build was my little electric fence which wraps around the site and made it difficult for him to get his ripper in. So yesterday I got us out there digging the outside trenches by hand. It’s amazing what can be achieved by hand. When Bronte took the first trailer of spoil down to the pig pen to empty it, he got caught against the electric fence and the whole trailer and Suzuki were electrified. Luke got a shock off the back of the car.

The three of us managed to finish the outside foundation trenches in the one day. I gave up at lunchtime having worked the mattock, pickaxe and shovel for 3-4 hours solid. My back and shoulders were complaining mightily and I needed to see to other things. Luke was a trooper and was able to wield both the mattock and shovel. The mattock is an amazing tool, but is just so exhausting to use! These strip foundations will be filled with concrete so Bronte’s got his levels and a solid base. He didn’t really want to use this site as it will block some of our views, but it’s the only logical place as it’s already flat and accessible with a solid gravel base. The greenhouse is going to be quite large, but I’ve said he can grow lemons, cucumbers, tomatoes, capsicum, chillis etc – not just baby trees!

Before we started digging



Huge caterpillar we unearthed



Bronte and Luke have gone completely seed and tree mad. They spend hours collecting seed from around the block and have made seed-collecting trips to Franklin and Hobart. The office is full of pots of seeds, to such an extent that I’ve been complaining about having no pots to put things in for Luke’s lunch. The garage and two outside apple bins are full of pots with various types of trees sprouting in them. I can barely get to the back of the garage now to get tools and other things from the rear shelves. I have to fight my way past 44-gallon drums loaded with pots of trees. Now he’s got a daylight lamp rigged up above them on a timer to trick them into thinking it’s not autumn. It was this seed-collecting that led to the hakea nut plaque. I was intrigued by the shape of the matching insides of the two halves of the hakea nut after the seeds were removed and felt it a shame just to throw them away. Hence I just stuck them to a roughly sanded bit of old apple bin plank and oiled them. I did manage to sell some of their tagasaste and laburnum seedlings at the sale last weekend.



 As well as tending the self-set tomatoes on the veggie-patch-to-be, they have also been watering some self-set potatoes. A few months’ back I collected some potato chips to cook for the pigs. They weren’t wonderful when I bought them and the pigs would barely eat them when cooked. In the hot weather most of the bags turned to mush and I tipped them out onto the veggie patch. Remarkably, some of these sprouted and took root. Unfortunately the wallabies have taken a liking to the plants and completely ravaged them. I always thought potato plants and particularly the little green berries that grow on top, were poisonous, but I must have been wrong (wasn’t it something similar that killed the mad guy from ‘Into the Wild’?)! It’s possible we have some wallabies with very sore tummies.


 Rosie had a sore tummy on Easter Sunday. I’d killed three birds and they lay out on the slope behind the garage to drain. When Luke’s little mate arrived to go on an Easter egg hunt with him they were both intrigued to see the dead birds lying there and poked them and chortled. Rosie then disgraced herself by pinching a rooster head and promptly swallowing it. The previous day she’d be in tremendous trouble after pinching a bunch of sausages from the pot in which I was about to cook bird food and later on the Sunday she filched something from the bucket into which I was gutting the birds! I was furious at her. She really is the most awful thief. Anyone would think she wasn’t fed. She also disgraced herself around the same time by peeing on the mat in the laundry (again).

I’m actually feeding the dogs mainly on wallaby meat now. It’s another of my cost-saving measures. I’ve worked out that we spend quite a bit on pet food. I’ve tried feeding it to Murphy-Cat but he thinks I’m trying to poison him. The dogs on the other hand, are most satisfied with this turn of events. Bronte has been shooting again as we are totally overrun with wallabies. You can barely drive to our gate at night without running down herds of wallies. So I’ve been cooking them in my big outside cook-pot and pulling out all the good meat and innards for the dogs. It’s not a great task! The dogs now just get a small amount of crunchies (to make sure they are getting all the right nutrients) plus plenty of cooked wallaby meat. Much of the inside freezer is now full of plastic containers of wallaby.

I’ve continued to work sporadically on my business plan for the farm and I’m starting to feel a bit more optimistic. There is no way I can truthfully put down numbers that show us paying off the mortgage on the new land and managing to make an income. But I can get to the point where our expenditure is drastically reduced and we need only make a further $22K or so to keep us going and pay into a pension. No room for luxuries or holidays however! The main things that can help are: micro-hydro scheme (to eliminate electric bills and make a little by selling to the grid); orchard (to provide fruit and nuts – and possibly truffles at some point - for us and the animals); veggie patch (food for us and animals) and a milking cow! This last may well be a sticking point with Bronte as it’s such a tie, but I’ve worked out that we spend nearly $3K a year on dairy products which we could produce at home with very little cost.

On the animal front, pigs seem like a possible winner, goats are a dead loss and beef cattle are a half-way bet. I plan to wallaby-proof the biggest paddock on our new land and get a small herd of Herefords. Wallaby-proofing is an expensive pain, but would increase the grass yield by several hundred percentage points. Wherever the wallabies have been kept at bay the grass is beautifully luxuriant. I keep eyeing up animals as we drive around and have been taking an interest in prices and markets. I’m really not keen on cows because of their size and their environmental footprint but it seems as though needs-must.

Goats are only worth keeping because I can sell individual animals as pets and weed-eaters. Also they will do a fabulous job of clearing our really rough areas when we can fence them. Pigs could follow and largely live off the roots of bracken and other plants that they can forage for themselves. I’ve just got to get all this written up and get Bronte’s buy-in – I expect that will be the hardest part! He doesn’t enjoy working at Council but loves the security, the salary, the pension and other perks. I may be able to draw him away by dangling the lure of building a house on our new land, but that’s a massive investment (we’d need an investment or bridging loan and a year off work) and quite high risk. I’ve also written in conservative sums for the sale of farm trees and various things we can make.

As part of the sums for the business plan I’ve calculated the performance of our solar panels. I looked up all our old bills and determined that our 2kW system generates an average of 4.8kWH/ day, which is pretty rubbish. The average for Hobart throughout the year is meant to be 7kWH for a system that size. I also looked up angles and shading and whilst our panels aren’t at the optimum angle that makes only a small difference to the power generated, compared to say the direction in which they point. Ours is pretty well due North so is ideal. I got on the roof to check the panels (as best I could) and gave them a good clean. I consulted with the supplier and they asked me to check the power generated each day for a couple of weeks. During that fortnight we generated an average per day of only 3.1kWH. On completely clear sunny days we got as much as 6kWH but on cloudy or drizzly days we generated nothing at all – which seems almost impossible! Now we have the choice of doing nothing or having an engineer come out. If he comes out and finds nothing wrong, we’ll have to pay $175 (which at 28c per kWH would take us 6 months to pay back).

Me on the garage roof

 It hasn’t all been work (just mostly). Before our last WWOOFs left, they took Luke on a bike ride via the back roads to Huonville, from where Bronte collected them with the ute. We voted – what a waste of time that was! We’ve now got a hard-line so-called ‘Liberal’ government in both Tassie and federally. The former’s first priority seems to be to tear up the Forestry Agreement that was so painstakingly negotiated between the forestry industry and environmentalists over a couple of years, and was eventually enshrined in law. Our West Wellington area is in the first tranche to be protected and currently has conservation reserve status. The state government has now said that it will repeal the legislation but will pledge not to log in these protected forests for six years. Hence they will change their status to ‘future potential production’ land. Our little West Wellington Protection Group met at our house the other week to discuss possible initiatives.

We decided to set up a Landcare group with the aim of rehabilitating the region before it loses its conservation status. If we start replanting along the roadsides for instance it will make it harder for Forestry Tasmania to justify going into that area again. The downside for us is that is currently fairly well-roaded and therefore may be one of the more accessible of the new conservation areas. We’ve become the Russell Ridge Conservation Area Landcare Group and now need to apply to Council for what assistance is available. I’ve got to get on and research the personnel in our local Forestry Tasmania group in order that we can find out their intentions should the legislation actually be repealed.

Luke’s Little Athletics season has finished. Luke won the under 9’s boys’ championship and was very pleased with himself. He also broke the turbo-jav (mini-javelin) throwing record in the last weeks. Now it’s soccer season again and while we currently have no matches, he’s training each Thursday afternoon. The games will start on Saturday mornings after the Easter break. We’ve rather been enjoying getting our Saturdays back now Little Athletics has finished. This Friday there is an Anzac day sports-day to which Luke is greatly looking forward. Bronte and I are not quite so keen!



We went to the Botanic Gardens a couple of weekends back for the ‘Treadlightly’ festival which was really rather a damp squib. We were expecting many more stalls and entertainments. I bought a small watercress plant (which I’ve only just remembered!). Watercress is another thing I thought we could try and grow and sell. The gardens themselves looked lovely as usual and Luke and Bronte had a great seed-collecting day, although they had to do it surreptitiously. I noticed that most of the trees are actually conifers, my least favourite type of tree. Bronte’s already planted loads of radiata pines around the plot, which I really dislike. They are also a declared weed! Afterwards we went to see the Lego movie, with which I was distinctly ambivalent. Luke similarly as he said the appearance of humans at the end spoiled it for him. I think Bronte got the most out of it!








On Easter Sunday we had our usual egg hunt. Last year it was just us and Luke so we decided (rather belatedly) to invite some of Luke’s friends. Most couldn’t come so it ended up being just Luke and one other. Bronte wrote some fiendish clues which sent the lads all around our land. I struggled with them but those two managed to figure them out. They were all quite exhausted by the end, including Bronte who had to go with them to keep an eye on them. I stayed back and dished up hot-cross buns and watermelon for the egg-hunters when they returned. This batch of buns was somewhat rock-like and I ended up feeding the remainder to the pigs today. They loved them. We are now awash with chocolate and can’t wait until it’s all gone so we can go back to eating properly again. While it’s in the house we are unable to resist, especially when we’re doing lots of physical work.




There have been lots of Forestry Tasmania burn-offs recently, the smoke often stretching from one horizon to the other. The photos are both beautiful and apocalyptic.





Monday 10 March 2014










I haven’t been as active as usual since my last post owing to a chest and sinus bug that’s even now hanging around after six weeks. Nonetheless there has still been action on the farm front. We’ve lost Stan, the geese and five turkeys and gained nine guinea-fowl chicks, Henry the sheep and two ducks. We’ve also picked over 20kg of blackberries, chain-sawed a heap of firewood and begun clearing a paddock for horse agistment.

We were short on pig food since it was too early for the new crop of potatoes and we were close to the end of cold-stored piggy apples before the new picking season, so I decided that now Stan the boar had (apparently) done his duty, it was time for him to go. Being so huge, he ate an awful lot. For the first week he ate nothing but apples, but soon discovered the delights of cooked scraps and mushy pellets. He’d clearly benefited from improved food and a permanent mud-wallow with us as the dry skin, scabs and mites behind his ears, had disappeared completely. I put him on Gumtree for the paltry sum of $50 thinking he would be difficult to sell. However, there were two calls immediately and one of the guys turned up the following day with a trailer.

I didn’t feed the pigs in the morning and hoped Stan’s greed would help lure him into the trailer. We had a certain amount of shenanigans with the sows getting in the way and Stan deciding to step over the electric fence (something he could have presumably done anytime), but eventually the temptation of pig pellets soaked in cooking juices was sufficient for him to overcome his caution and get his front half into the trailer. It was a couple of feet off the ground, so I doubted he’d get in, but with a nudge from behind he very obligingly clambered up and carried on eating. He was still eating as his new owners drove away and I wished I’d asked $150. I was rather sad to see him go – it’s unusual to find such a cooperative, affable and awesome creature. However, at least I know where he’s gone and I may be able to borrow him again if we need him. They have several sows where he’s going so I do hope he’ll be happy.

The poor geese took a one-way flight to the pig brew. Bronte had determined they had to go because they’d made such a dirty mess of the dams. Vikki and Andre, our WWOOFs, made a goose trap to my instructions but there was no way I could get the blighters to go in there. I put their food in the back of the trap then drove a distance away and lay down behind the Suzuki, one end of the cord leading to the stick that held the entrance door up, clutched in my sweaty paw. For half an hour I watched the geese mooch around nonchalantly - near the trap but never showing any interest in the food. Eventually I got fed up and tried to herd them into the trap. Instead they slid into the dam and stayed there, despite all my antics.



Goose trap


Finally, I got cross enough to fetch the rifle and shoot them all! In the end it was probably the most humane way, given that if they had gone in the trap they would probably have been awfully traumatised. Whereas the gun was quick and the others didn’t seem to catch on to what was happening. I was a bit worried about the placement of a single bullet and if that would be enough to kill a big bird, but it worked fine. I had planned for all the young ones to go in the freezer but couldn’t face the work involved, particularly since I had to fish some out of the dam. Instead I’m afraid we just cooked them all up for the pigs.

We had yet another power cut recently. We’d decided to spend a quick hour down at the big hay shed on our new land clearing up some of the rubbish. It had been an awfully hot day and the wind was starting to pick up. As we reached the gate, the wind turned briefly violent, swirling leaves and sticks into the air. We continued down the road and into the shed as the air became wilder. While we worked, the wind raged above the roof and pine cones and sticks rained down on the corrugated iron. It still didn’t really dawn on us however, how strong the gusts had become. We emptied an apple crate filled with sacks and sheets of old board. At one stage I saw something large and hairy on my arm and realised it was a huge huntsman spider. I lost my cool instantly and leapt about flapping at my arm and squealing. The huntsman flew through the air onto the dirt, but I was still convinced there was something stuck to me.



Another large huntsman spider. We've found a few orange spiders
recently that look like huntsmen. When we did some research it turns
out they are a sub-species called 'shield' huntsmen, owing to a
shield design on their underside


We filled the ute with rubbish and scrap and set off down the road to go to the tip. The wind had settled by this time although the clouds were streaming across the sky. At the bottom of Crabtree we were stopped by a queue of cars. A tall, narrow tree had fallen across the road, brought down the power lines and started a small fire. We heard that the other way out of Crabtree via Lucaston was blocked by a similar incident. Realising that our power was probably out, we hurried home. The WWOOFs told us that the electric had gone off only about 5 minutes after we left. Feeling that my guinea-fowl eggs were doomed, I brought one of my hugely heavy deep-cycle batteries over from the garage and hooked up the inverter to the incubator. Luckily, because it was such a warm day, the temperature in the incubator still read 30degC, which probably meant the egg core temperature was several degrees higher.



A large wattle that fell on Crabtree Road during the short storm


The electric remained out for the rest of the evening and we set up candle stations around the living areas. When I rung Aurora it turned out that most of the Huon Valley and surrounding area had lost power. It seemed extraordinary that so much damage had been caused by a freak storm that lasted barely an hour. To add insult to injury we received a card from Aurora saying we were to have a planned outage for a full day so that they could clear vegetation near the power lines above us. So we prepared by setting up the battery and inverter and bringing in water for drinking and loo-flushing. On the day, the electric remained on, so I rang Aurora to ask for timings, only to be told that the planned outage was cancelled. I expect we shall have to go through the same rigmarole when they set a new date.

We had been motivated to clear out the big hay shed by a neighbour asking if they might agist up to three horses on a small portion of our new land, bounded by road and creek. The shed stands in one corner and we’ve suggested she also annex part of this with her electric fence such that the horses have shelter during the day and she has the opportunity to convert it for hay and tack storage. We’ve had to negotiate with the other neighbours who run their cattle on our land since this will reduce their acreage by around 5%. We’ve slightly reduced their monthly agistment fee and they seem to be fairly relaxed – although it’s hard to tell! The horse agistment deal is far more lucrative for us than the cattle, so we have to go for it.

I’d calculated that the guinea-fowls were due to hatch around a week after the storm. I stopped turning them, turned up the humidity and watched them for pipping. Nothing happened and I began to feel that they were no good. I’d candled them earlier in the week and whilst three were obviously infertile, the image of the embryos in the others was inconclusive. I did open one, lifting a small portion of eggshell from the bigger end. As far as I could tell it seemed to be alive. I never dreamt that one would survive even though I carefully sealed it up with some thin plastic and masking tape. About four days after I expected it, the eggs suddenly took me by surprise by starting to peep and crack.

The following day we had nine of the prettiest chicks you can imagine – including one from the egg I’d opened earlier in the week. They were tiger-striped in amber and brown, across their heads and down their backs. Two were a different coloration – Vikki said they looked as though they were “inside out”. They were almost lilac in colour. I did some research with the idea that perhaps this was a gender bias, but apparently that only works with brown parents (I didn’t even know guinea-fowls came in brown). Anyhow, two weeks later, they are still just as pretty, and have suddenly started to grow with a vengeance. It’s a pity they will end up with bald, crested dinosaur heads.


First two guinea-fowl chicks

The entire clutch - looking a trifle greenish!


A fortnight ago on a Thursday I had a text from a neighbour saying the Ranelagh show was on that day. This little livestock auction is generally on a Wednesday and I’d given up trying to go as I was always at work. I’d been trying to find a little sheep or goat wether to keep Rocky the buck company so this seemed an ideal opportunity. I ran inside and called Roberts the sales agents. It turned out the sale had already started and was to coincide with a clearing sale. So we stopped what we were doing, quickly hitched up the trailer and roared off to Ranelagh. It turned out that there were a heap of sheep for sale (no goats) but they had already gone.

I found our neighbour and asked her who the sheep had gone to – I mentioned a local butcher who often buys up meat animals and it turned out he was standing talking to her. He was a jolly old soul and between exchanging jokes with all-comers he agreed to sell me a 12 month old sheared wether for $55. It seemed like a bargain to me. Having paid up I backed up the trailer and we manhandled ‘Henry’ – now christened – into it. I asked the butcher if he’d still be OK to eat and he said “yes, he’d be OK as summer lamb – some are lamb and some are not!” and roared with laughter. So the plan is to eat poor Henry in May when Rocky gets to run with the girls. Rocky can stay with them until close to kidding time, when we’ll have to find him another companion.


Henry - tethered for first couple of days until he knew it was home


We parked Henry in the shade and had a quick peek into the poultry sales shed. There were the usual roosters going for $2 or $5, and various types of hens, bantams and pigeons. There were also a few ducks, two of which were very young and cute. I resolved to get them for Luke if we could, given he’s got a penchant for ducks. We bought them for $10, paid up there and then and were able to take them straightaway. We hadn’t thought to bring a crate so the WWOOFs had to cradle a wriggling duck each on their laps until we got home. The ducks are now settled happily in the bunny and hen pen near the garage. The hens eat most of their food, but they seem to be doing well enough on what they can forage.






They are Muscovy ducks, which are not my favourite sort of duck owing to the lumpy appendage around their beaks. However, I’ve since done some research and they seem to be a most useful type of creature. Apparently they eat loads of flies, mozzies, slugs and all sorts of other pasture pests. They are good to eat, swim less than other ducks (which means they don’t make such a mess of dams and ponds) and can become very friendly. I’ve built them a small pond with a concreted-in plastic tub and arranged rocks around it. I’ve also started to convert an old bath I bought years ago for the geese. It’s a spa bath which is not helpful. By the time I’d cut all the pipes and nozzles off I had 8 big holes in the bath! I’ve patched them now with a combination of corrugated plastic, silicon and bitumen tape. I’ve also bought a fitting for the plughole, with the intention of adding a pipe so we can empty it when the water gets too muddy. I’ll need to get the WWOOFs to dig a hole for it (and the outflow pipe) down in the big peacock pen.

Our turkey numbers have been a little depleted of late. The birds are eating a huge amount of food because we are at peak numbers. Also we are terribly low on meat, with just a couple of Brian roasts left. So I decided the three biggest (all white ones) had to go to the freezer. They were still a little immature but amounted to over 3kg each, which was a decent weight. They took a lot of plucking owing to all the rubbery, immature feathers.





This morning, the girls found one of the youngest turkeys unable to walk. I’d noticed one sitting on the ground yesterday, but since several were having a dust bath hadn’t thought anything of it. When I went to find the disabled turkey, I found another just the same and I’ve had to both of them down. I felt dreadful doing it. I’d already had to put one down from that pen and earlier when they were chicks in the brooder cage, I’d had to put one down with a deformed beak. Obviously they are lacking something or have been affected by something to which the other broods haven’t been exposed. Clearly it’s also something to which hens are not sensitive since there are several perfectly healthy hens in the same run. I’ll need to do a load of research.

We’ve been regularly setting the possum trap behind the turkeys since losing so many hens over a period of weeks. Then one morning Bronte and Luke called me and the WWOOFs in some excitement. We’d caught a grizzled old quoll – large for the breed (it was an Eastern quoll not the large tiger quoll) and jet black, crouched in the corner hissing at us warily. He was a quite beautiful creature. If it was him that had been catching the hens, he belied the normal quoll nature of killing everything in sight in a blood-lust. As an old-timer, perhaps he’d learnt to just take what he needed. Luke opened the door of the trap and after a few seconds of indecision he was off like a black and white streak.






Another morning, when I was laid up ill, the dogs were driving me bonkers yelping outside. When I investigated, they appeared to have something holed up in a drainage pipe under the entrance to the veggie patch. I gathered the WWOOFs and a long ‘stick’ of pipes joined together, armed one WWOOFer with a net and asked the other to keep the dogs under control. I pushed the stick through the pipe while Andre held the net over the other end. Suddenly there was bedlam at the other end, with Andre trying to seize a belligerent, growling quoll and Bruce trying to bite its head off and Rosie yelping maniacally. I ran up there and booted Bruce off. The quoll stood its ground for a few moments longer then shot down another, larger culvert pipe. Bruce followed all a-bustle but returned empty-handed. I just hope the quoll got away unharmed. I returned to the sofa exhausted!

The concrete pig feeder that Brian the boar wrecked by somehow walking right through it, has finally been fixed. The concrete was always difficult to clean out, so I got the WWOOFs to concret- in large plastic tubs that would be easy to clean. They did a really good job. Then I fixed the missing lid back on. It’s no longer hinged but at least it’s waterproof and sturdy. The pigs’ hinged sides still work fine – they put their snouts under the lids and nose them up before poking their heads in to eat. It means we can put their food out without danger of other animals eating it or it drying out or becoming full of water. However, the weather is so hot and dry again that I’ve asked the WWOOFs to feed the pigs and birds daily so their food doesn’t spoil.





We took Vikki and Andre to the Tahune Airwalk before they left since they’d been such good companions and willing workers. It was an awfully expensive, but fun day. I was still under the weather so sat outside in the sun while they all roared round the long walk that takes hikers over two large, swaying swing bridges. I enjoyed the walk around the airwalk itself, which comprises a metal walkway up in the crowns of the trees themselves: gums, myrtles, sassafras and celery-top pine.









Vikki, Luke and Andre



On the day the WWOOFs were due to leave, Luke woke up sobbing at 5am. The first I knew was him snuggling up alongside me and Bronte – apparently Bronte had heard him and went to comfort him.

Luke was terribly upset that the WWOOFs were leaving because they’d really played with him, on the Wii, at cricket and soccer and helping at Little Athletics. Once they were gone, however, he settled down again. The next couple – who’ve already been and gone – were also very young and friendly. They were a German couple called Marius and Tabea. I felt a little guilty when they went as they wrote that they found the work ‘hard’, although they seemed to have enjoyed themselves. Wow, that boy could eat!

We now have two German girls, Michelle and Luisa, who are both very pleasant. Luisa overlapped with the German couple so she already knows the ropes. Michelle arrived yesterday so she’s getting into the swing of things today. She’s a scientist who wants to study bio-medicine and neurology, so quite an egghead.



Luisa, Tabea and Marius


Over the last few weeks, with the various WWOOFers, we’ve picked maybe 20kg of blackberries and begun to turn them into cordial, jelly and liqueur. The liqueur is made with a vodka base in much the same way as sloe gin, just by soaking blackberries and sugar with the liquor for a couple of months, with regular stirring or shaking. I’ve had a little taste and it’s yummy. I made 10 litres of concentrated cordial on Saturday. Despite the recipe being so simple, it still took all day. First the blackberries had to be simmered in water, then sieved through an old sheet, then the juice measured and the requisite amount of sugar and lemon juice added.

Finally, the bottles all had to be sterilised and filled and labelled. I used a load of lidded jars I’d got from a second hand shop as well as vodka bottles we’d emptied for the liqueur and some plastic bottles Bronte had bought for his beer brewing. I managed to shrink these latter bottles! When I added boiling water to sterilise them they shrunk in and down, it was amazing to watch! Bronte was somewhat appalled. The cordial is nice but lacking a certain something – perhaps it needs more lemon and less water and sugar. We reckon we get through nearly 50 litres of concentrate a year, so I need to make another 40 litres!




Yesterday, I made a similar amount of jelly (jam without seeds). However, much to my chagrin, so far it’s not jellified. I’m trying not to be downhearted. I’ve stowed all 31 jars away in the pantry and thought I’ll check it again in a week’s time. If it’s still liquid, I’ll get the WWOOFs to re-boil it with some pectin or jam-setter.



Boys pear-picking on a beautiful day. The WWOOFs have since
picked four feed-bags of little sour pears. No use for us, but great
for birds, pigs and goats.


Since I’ve been feeling a bit better, I’ve been doing a bit of chain-sawing. I do the bare minimum to make it possible for the WWOOFs to bring back the lumps of firewood to the tractor shed. We can always continue to chain-saw and chop them there in the dry. There’s also a load of old fence panels and pallets which the WWOOFs have pulled apart and put on the pile. Some of these I’ll saw into lengths for chopping into kindling. I spend most of my time swearing at the chainsaw and trying to start it. I only use the little one but it’s supremely temperamental. It takes a lot of strength to pull the pull-cord so it gets most frustrating and tiring.



Managed to get Bronte to do some chain-sawing. I said I couldn't
do that and paint the outside of the house. This is his 'before' picture.

After chain-sawing


I came back from the front gate a couple of days ago with the sweat pouring down my face, thoroughly exhausted. Two gums that we planted when we first moved in had fallen in among all the other gums and blackwoods. So I was fighting through the low branches as well as fighting with the chainsaw. The trees were quite big with trunks about 40cm diameter at the bottom – not bad for 10 years’ growth. I’ve put corrugated iron around the firewood in the tractor shed, secured with star pickets. This will help contain the wood and make it easier to gather a large pile.

Nice tidy tractor shed at last with all vehicles stowed, firewood pile
just starting. Hay safely stored one end.

 More recent pic with corrugated supports & heaps more wood




The swallows outside our office window have successfully fledged a second brood of four babies. I peeked out recently to see four fully grown youngsters clinging to the one tiny nest, still expecting Mum and Dad to feed them. I expect they’ll be off soon. At least in this warm weather, they will have plenty of time to feed-up before the long migration north to the mainland. I’d always wondered where they went. According to what I can find on the net, they end up in various parts of the mainland including South Australia, NSW and Queensland.

I’ve been working on a ‘business plan’ to try and make the farm pay so we need not work for Council any more. I’ve got to the point where we still have around a $20-£30K shortfall of income per year. Sigh. One option I suppose would be to pursue the enterprises and savings we’ve come up with and make up the shortfall with seasonal work. I’d far rather do that than sit in an office day after day, doing work which seems totally detached from real life. I wonder how people can get so driven by work which is really just a human construct – nothing whatsoever to do with real life: with growing food, keeping animals, being close to nature and being part of a family. I’ve become increasingly fed up with traditional office life, with the petty politics, the indecision, the smartphone lifestyle, the squabbles and bosses lacking the ability to lead and motivate.

I’m really happiest when I’m making something, like my cordial and jam, and the crocheting I’m working on. I’ve finally finished the scarf I started an age ago. I’m really quite pleased with it and have added it to the stash to go onto an online shop someday. I’m now working on a blanket whereby I’m trying to stitch together and infill squares of different designs and sizes. If I succeed I think it will be rather fun.





Luke’s back at school of course now. He’s got a different teacher who seems very nice if awfully chatty. He’s always bringing home stories of her life! At least it makes him listen. He’s recently completed a reading test which determined that his reading age is ‘12’. He’s only 9 now. I’m not at all surprised - in fact it is probably higher than twelve in terms of understanding and comprehension (if not emotional maturity).

He reads a great deal. I bought a big pile of books from a cafĂ© in Huonville which sells items to raise money for ‘SWAP’ – Students Working Against Poverty, an initiative of the High School which helps schools in Cambodia. I found a Rosemary Sutcliffe, a Ted Hughes, a Roald Dahl and various other treasures. He also gets a couple of books out from the school library each week. We’ll have to start going back to the state library shortly when he runs out of the second hand books.


Little froggie found by Bronte and Luke

Luke pulling face on 'slack line' put up by Bronte

Rosie-Dog gracing Bronte's new bridge

One of the Sea Shepherd boats docked in Hobart. The Council has
voted to become a 'friendship' city to Sea Shepherd.

Luke about to embark on complex new lego kit
Completed truck completed with various moving parts

Bronte and Luke with their carefully tended self-set tomato plants. Luke
has got very interested in growing all kinds of plants.

Latest jigsaw

Lovely blue-tongued lizard basking on our drive

Glider chasing. If it's very still Bronte can launch the glider from the deck
and it flies for long distances. Luke loves to chase it.