Sunday 8 January 2012

We have a full house here at present, with Bronte’s two nephews – Sean and Michael, 16 and 14 yrs old respectively – and two WWOOFERS. One – Tracy – arrived a few days ago, hails from Hong Kong and will be with us until the end of January, the other – Katrijna – comes from Belgium and unfortunately will be only with us for just over a week. We’d intended to have only one WWOOFER but in the general confusion running up to Christmas I double-booked. Sean and Michael are staying for three weeks in total so it’s going to be fun cooking, cleaning and washing for 7! However, it is great having so much happening and so much life in the house – and Luke is thrilled to have so many new chums.

Yesterday was Little Athletics day so Katrijna had a whirlwind introduction to the animals as we tore around in order to get to see at least one event. No records today, but just before Christmas Luke broke the vortex under-7 Huon Valley record – one which had stood for many years. I never thought he would achieve the vortex record, but he produced an enormous throw of over 27m. The vortex is an oval ball with fins at the back – a sort of early introduction to the javelin. The week before Christmas the Little Athletics committee put on a great party for all the kids with Santa arriving in a fire truck with bags of sweets, an assault course with sliding mat and pool and tug of war and races for the adults. We all got soaked with water bombs as a start to the event and I managed to injure my hand by wrapping the tug of war rope around it (what an idiot!). It swelled up grossly but luckily seems not to have done any lasting damage.

Luke running the 100m at Little Athletics

I’ve had ongoing problems with my hands. The end knuckles of most fingers and some of the other finger knuckles have been painful and swollen. Everyone seemed sure it was osteo-arthritis – even the x-ray operator looked at my hands and said “have you got arthritis anywhere else in your body?” It didn’t bode well. However, when the results came back it seemed there was no sign of any arthritis, just some weird bone growth on one of the joints where I had an old injury. Apparently the pain and swelling is just from wear and tear! Perhaps I’d better ease up!

After Little Athletics yesterday we stocked up on pies, pizza and other unhealthy foods before driving into The Weld and walking down to Reubens Falls. After a long, dusty and bumpy drive over forestry tracks (in 2 cars) we arrived at the start of the walk to see a sign saying ‘Walk Closed’. Having got that far, we were not to be deterred and did the walk anyhow. There is a slightly precipitous bit at the end but it didn’t seem to be any worse than when we’ve been before. Reubens Falls is in a quite spectacular setting – a gorge shrouded with hanging strands of moss and huge tree trunks resting against the rocky walls. It is like something out of the Lost World. The flow was rather less than we’d seen before but we still had good fun clambering over rocks and timber, looking for fossils (there are usually several to be found there), skimming rocks and searching for fish. We were pretty tired by the time we got back to the car. Thank goodness I’d put a curry on in the slow cooker first thing in the morning.

Sean 'danger boy' at Reubens Falls

Luke, Katrijna and Tracy at Reubens Falls

Looking for fish

In the few days they have been here the boys have already helped Bronte tee into the pipe that comes from our weir at the top of our land and fix up a tap on a standpipe adjacent to the goat paddocks. Now I can access water easily rather than running a hose all the way up from the creek tap near to the house. They’ve also dug out the drain that runs across the bottom of the ‘veggie patch’ entrance, put in a pipe and covered it with gravel. During the winter it turned into a swamp through it which it was difficult to drive the Suzuki when getting hay from the shipping container.

Drain-diggers

 

The girls have helped me net-over the turkey run and wean the remaining young goats. Netting the turkey run was not as simple as it sounds. Given that there are several large wattle trees inside it and it is a big and unusually shaped run, it was just not possible to simply cover it in bird netting. Plus, I really wanted to be able to walk easily under it without having to duck. The answer was to string up a ‘ridge-line’ made from baling twine tied together which ran from high points at opposite corners and connected to the trees as far up as I could reach standing on a stepladder. This was then criss-crossed with fishing line from one side to the other – we used up over 1km of fishing line! Lastly, we ran home-made ropes all around the sides above head level to pull up the line where it came down to the top of the fence. It looks like a work of art! The sort of thing the Tate Gallery would pay a fortune for – maybe I should contact David Walsh at Mona!

We were then able to release the lone and forlorn peacock which had been in the goat float since before Christmas. I’d had to remove him from the main peacock run as he was being bashed up by the big male and threatened to put off the two sitting peahens. So far he appears not to have escaped from the turkey run and no crows have got in to steal eggs (not that there are any eggs!). The peacock is for sale on gumtree but it seems few people want a single male – although I did manage to sell his younger brother in December. The two peahens are both sitting on eggs although Narnie’s were due a week ago by my calculations so am not holding my breath. More success on the chicken front however, as a broody hen who’d hidden herself in the bracken in Henry’s pen hatched out 10 cute babies this morning.

Happy chickens (25 in total), moved from small peacock run into large newly-netted turkey run

We’ve got chickens everywhere now including in the now vacated goose pen. Before Christmas I made a ‘goose trap’ into which I drove the geese before catching them. It was rather a struggle as I had to crawl into it on hands and knees through the mud and poo while the geese squawked and flapped in general panic, then grab them one by one and stuff them into sacks for transport to the garage. I didn’t realise geese were so strong – I have bruises from wings and beaks and sharp webbed feet. The worse was still to come as I had to try and sex the young ones from this breeding season. It was all a bit unpleasant (for the geese and me) but we ended up with three ‘boys’ and seven ‘girls’, two of which I sold to a fellow blogger from Cygnet who also took some pork and poor William the turkey gobbler (plucked, gutted and halved). A couple of the geese expressed their displeasure with projectile poo!

Trapped geese

The ganders are now in the turkey pen and the girl geese in the main chicken run – the aim is for them to eat all the long grass. Prior to the move I was picking a sackful of dandelions for them each day. Interestingly, when I was poking about in the big chicken run recently, I finally set eyes on Beryl Bunny whom I released in there some weeks back. I was pleased to know she’s still OK and not lost or escaped. I’m expecting to see babies now!

 

We have been singularly unsuccessful with the turkeys for the past two years and are now back to just two hens. One hen died before Christmas – I think due to old age, as she was one of our originals from four years ago - and I finally put down the one who appeared to have some sort of hernia at her rear end. It was obvious she would never be any good for breeding or egg-laying and I was fed up with constantly cleaning her up and applying various creams and medications without success. One of the remaining turkey hens continued to be broody despite being relegated to the new turkey anti-brooder cage, but she finally relented recently – still no sign of any eggs however.

   

Weaning the young goats should have been a straightforward process. We’d already fitted them with new collars, trimmed their hooves and treated their feet. So we had only to catch them and put them in the goat float, drench them and transfer them to the weaning pen later in the day. However, it all turned out to be somewhat frenetic as inbetween times I had to collect the new WWOOFER who’d been dumped in a neighbouring village by the bus driver, get back and then get to the doctor’s re my hands. So when I parked the Suzuki and float outside the weaning pen I must have forgotten to leave it in gear. While Tracy and I were checking the pen to ensure the electric fence was all operational, I heard a sound and turned around to see the Suzuki rolling away with the goats. I ran out in panic but was unable to catch it before it had ploughed through the corner of a pig pen (thankfully unoccupied). It took the combined efforts of all of us to unravel the wire from the axle and remove a steel stake preventing me from reversing out – which I eventually did. I was somewhat stressed by the whole event and now have another fence to mend! Of course, Luke thought it was a great joke. 

Christmas was quiet and pleasant with just the three of us. Santa brought Luke a new bike with which he was greatly chuffed. It was funny really, as he wasn’t overly enamoured with the few bits in his stocking and sack at the end of his bed, but put on a brave face. Then he had a few nice things under the tree from us and relatives, but he was a bit put-out that I’d bought Bronte a secondhand Wii off e-bay. Then I suggested he get himself some clean socks from the airer in the TV room – Bronte and I quickly followed him with the camera and we heard “oh my god” from the door as he saw the bike covered in tinsel. I’m not sure how long the Santa myth will last as he noticed Santa had used the same wrapping paper that we’d used on other presents and also (what a cheek!) used tinsel off the tree to wrap around the bike. No flies on Luke. The bike seems so much larger than his old one which he’d hugely outgrown. A couple of days later Bronte and Luke went on a bike expedition down to the Grove Shop. I got a plaintive call about an hour and half later from just down the road to come and pick them up. They’d done well – got nearly all the way home, just before the really steep hills started.

Bronte demonstrating the Wii on Christmas morning

Luke in Christmas hat unwrapping prezzies

Shocked Luke!

Cycling boys on first outing with Luke's new bike

The Wii has been a huge success – but not with Bronte! Luke just loves it and there have been more rows over that than anything else. However, it’s proved its worth with the boys and WOOFERs who all take turns and run competitions on it in the late afternoon. It came with plenty of games – proper games rather than shoot ‘em ups – and it is quite tiring to use, so it’s not as bad as slumping in front of a computer game. I bought only gadgets for Bronte this year – he got an ipod for his birthday early this month. Tracy has set it all up for him and got the space and science shows onto it that I’ve been saving for him, but he’s not actually tried to listen to them yet! We went to the transport museum on his birthday. This is a real little gem, with loads of old trams, steam and diesel engines and even old tractors and rollers, with lots of information on early transport in Tasmania. We had a great time there but it was such a shame only one other person was there. It’s staffed by volunteers (one of whom turned out to be our old vet from Huonville) and terribly poorly advertised. We didn’t know about it all for the first 4 years we were here and there are no signs until you are finally at the gate.

Me in tram - head cut off by Luke!

   

Xmas dinner was as planned. I sacrificed the non-motherly goose from the year before, stuffed it with a small rooster, which was itself stuffed with homemade sausagemeat filled with garlic and all sorts of good stuff. It was all most yummy. This time we got a good lot of goose fat with which I roasted the potatoes. Afterwards I picked all the meat off the two birds, ran it through the new super-dooper electric mincer and then made sausages and burgers with it. We ate the burgers which were very tasty but an odd smooth texture rather like pate! I guess it’s because I was using cooked meat which broke down very finely. The sausages were relegated to the freezer – I’ll inflict them on the boys and WWOOFERS in the next week or two.

   

The new mincer proved its worth before Christmas. I deboned the whole front section of our last pig and ran through 8kg of mince and another few kgs of sausagemeat (with extra fat) in no time at all. If I’d had to do it by hand, it would have taken hours – and worn my arm out! The people who sold us the mincer also threw in a book of sausage recipes which was exceptionally kind of them given the unbelievably cheap price. With the sausage filler attachment we can shoot sausages out dead quick too. Hopefully with a bit of practice we’ll be producing tasty sausages instead of the slightly odd ones I’ve achieved so far. Other recent homemade produce has been of mixed success. The ham and bacon are really good, but the soap is a bit dubious. It works like soap but smells a little peculiar and the ones in which the honey isn’t properly amalgamated, turn the water brown (Luke says the water looks like wee).

 

We had a few social occasions before and around Christmas, mostly centred around Bronte’s work. We had a fun BBQ at the Waterworks, where Luke found a partner in crime to play with and to which Santa made a visit with named presents. Luke was quite over-awed! We were also asked to a BBQ over in South Arm, the other side of Hobart, which was similar fun. Luke again found friends to play with and we all played cricket and footie on their big lawn. Just after Christmas we had a surprise visit from an old chap – Ewan Thorpe – who used to live on our land up until he was 14 years old. He spent a couple of hours with Bronte reminiscing about the old times and showing photographs of homesteads long gone.

 

We had a major disappointment between Christmas and New Year from which we’ve not quite recovered. Just before Christmas we saw ‘for sale’ signs go up on the land adjoining us to the south and west belonging to one of our neighbours (who doesn’t talk to us presumably owing to our environmental convictions). We were very excited as we’d always wanted to extend our land across to the two roads that run alongside us as it seemed to make so much sense and would perhaps open up options for subdivision at a later stage. We put in an offer on that bit of land only, in the hope of a boundary adjustment, but were turned down. We then discussed it at length and went out right on a limb and decided to put an offer on the whole lot (60 or so acres on the market for a total of $379K). I went to see the bank and got the go-ahead and we spent two hours with the real estate man talking through the options before biting the bullet and signing a formal offer. Later that day the man rang us back to say his colleague had sold the land the day before and not bothered to tell him! We were absolutely gutted. It had been a major decision for us, we were really nervous but also terribly excited about the possibilities. I don’t think we could have moved any quicker but it went to a cash buyer within such a short time. We’ve since learnt on the rumour mill that it’s gone to an overseas buyer – possibly an investor – who we hope won’t just sit on it and allow it to go to rack and ruin.

Another 1000 piece puzzle completed over Christmas

Friday 9 December 2011

Wow, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do – I’ve been itching to get writing for a week or more but the rigours of season four (4 of 8 – eek!) of ‘24’, Bronte not going out chopping bracken after Luke’s gone to bed and general knackeredness have conspired against me. I have at last got to the bottom of the mending pile however – yippee! Just two more skirts to take in and that’s a complete overflowing bin-bag sorted. I shall be so pleased to finish and be able to start crocheting again. Most of the mending was Luke’s of course – he ruins clothes so quickly. We had to get him a new pair of school boots as a matter of urgency after he returned home from school with his feet hanging out of the front of his shoes! Bronte sent him off to school the next day (it was his fortnightly day off) in the same shoes & I had to tear off after the bus with a pair of trainers so he’d be comfortable and not look like a deprived orphan.

The sewing and mending chores are not helped by Luke regularly winning more badges at Little Athletics that then have to be sewn onto his top. Last week he broke the Huonville Centre under 7’s discus record (by quite some distance). I’ve told him that for each record he breaks henceforth he can have an extra 45 minutes computer time. He loves to get on the computer to play Cyclomaniacs & we currently restrict his access to an hour each Sunday, so it’s a great incentive for him. He’s only 15cm off the long jump record and has beaten the shot put record at home on several occasions – he just needs to repeat the performance at Little Athletics instead of being so nonchalant in front of his chums that he swaggers up and makes a hash of it!

The countdown to Christmas has started with Luke terribly excited re his advent calendars. Mum sent him a traditional one that we’ve stuck on a sliding door so that the light shines through the gauzy pictures when the windows are opened. I also bought him a chocolate one for a bit of fun. Each morning around 6am, I hear him thundering upstairs to open the advent calendars and switch on the Christmas lights. The house is swathed in lights such that it looks like Santa’s grotto at night and the little Christmas tree is drooping under its weight of decorations.

I’ve been unusually organised and have bought Luke’s and Bronte’s Christmas presents & Bronte’s birthday presents off eBay (can’t tell you what they are yet of course ..). I’ve also started to muse on food for Christmas – I plan to have everything home-made this year: mince pies, brandy butter, a baby Christmas pud and a Yule log (rich choccy cake rolled up & covered in chocolate icing to resemble a log). We’ve decided to sacrifice the most white of the geese for dinner (she’s not proven to be much of a Mum either) and I’m thinking of going all Heston Blumenthal and stuffing it with a young chicken itself stuffed with home-made sausagemeat. This last hopefully will be made easier by a new purchase – a little electric mincer and sausage-filler, only $25 off Gumtree. I’ve not had a chance to get going with it yet, but I do have two very large chunks of pig in the freezer to be de-boned and minced sometime soon. Unusually there will just be us three for Christmas dinner. Bronte was going to visit his Dad in Adelaide for a few days between Christmas and New Year but the air-fares are around 3 times the normal rates.

Stumpy the pig went to the abbatoir a couple of weeks back and after collecting the meat I spent an evening putting two sides of bacon and a whole ham on to dry-cure in the fridge and portioning up the rest of the meat. I sold the other ham and a few other roasts and cutlets. I’ve been pleased with the way the new abbatoir owners have performed – so much more professional than the previous owners and not actually that much more costly. They hung the meat for longer too so it should be even tastier. Today I smoked the ham and bacon – smoking myself too in the process – and the ham has just finished cooking in the oven. The bacon has been sliced up (laboriously by hand) and the whole house is infused with that mouthwatering odour of smoke and pork. I do the smoking in a 44 gallon drum over charcoal and soaked pearwood chips (from our ancient tree). Can’t wait to taste the results!

Another by-product of the pigs is fat, which we render into lard and use to make soap. Rendering the fat is a fairly horrible task, but luckily when our soap stores starting getting low, I already had a load of rendered fat in the freezer, so was able to quite quickly knock up a batch of soap. It’s the preparation and clearing up afterwards which takes the time, rather than the soap-making itself. Because lye (sodium hydroxide – added in small quantities to the lard to make the soap) is so alkaline, all worktops and surfaces local to the mixing process, have to be thoroughly protected with newspaper. Plus, I always wear goggles, a fume mask and rubber gloves because the fumes from the lye are pretty toxic.

This batch has not been an unmitigated success. I decided on honey and oatmeal, but failed I think, to thoroughly mix in the honey. All additives have to be added at the last minute so it’s always a bit of a race against time. I would perhaps have had better results if the honey had been dissolved in hot water first. While it’s definitely soap, it looks a bit odd and some of the bars have soft bits of not fully integrated honey! Also, it smells of lard! Well, there are 2 more weeks to go before it is fully cured, so perhaps it will improve in that time (or perhaps not).

It’s been a most depressing time on the goat front. I’ve had 2 grown goats die, which is completely unprecedented. I’m pretty sure of the reason for both deaths, but feel a failure for not having prevented them. Polly was a middle-to-old-aged goat, robust and a great mother - producing and raising 2 big kids each year. This year was no different, except that she seemed a bit slow of late and I twice had to treat her for bloat – with olive oil and bicarbonate of soda. She preferred to eat the fresh new grass coming up and was less keen on the chaff, grain and hay I provided. I had stopped giving hay but the incidents of bloat persuaded me it was necessary. Nevertheless early one morning I spotted her prostrate on the ground and when Luke and I went up in the Suzuki before school she’d been dead a few hours, despite having appeared to be perfectly well the day before. I’m quite sure it was bloat – this happens when a goat eats a lot of lush grass with insufficient roughage such that it ferments in the stomach and can’t be digested quickly enough. Her left side was distended and as taut as a drum and when I opened her up, she was totally full of fresh grass. I realise now I should have moved them earlier into another paddock where the grass was longer and coarser but I’d been keen to rest these for a longish period to reduce the parasite load after 18 months of mild, wet weather.

Collecting browse for the goats - a wattle tree that had blown over

I moved the whole herd - barring the bucks - into a new paddock a couple of days ago, but it was all a bit of a rush as I was doing it with Luke and needed to get back to get dinner ready. In so doing, I neglected to notice that Pascal, our oldest and one of friendliest does, wasn’t present. The following day I was struggling with the mower, trying to clear the grass from under the electric fence, when I noticed her in a hut in the old paddock. She’d clearly been dead for a day or more. Once again, she’d been well only a couple of days previously, but also a bit slow. However, she’d shown no sign of bloat or scouring or any other visible signs of illness. She’d eaten well and come up for her usual scratch. She’d suffered from scouring before dying, but it must have all happened awfully fast. I’m wondering if it wasn’t just old age since when I examined her mouth, she only had one tooth left at the front and the molars at the back were very worn.

I was pretty upset about the poor old thing and have been extra vigilant since. However, the remaining herd seems sleek and fit and full of life. I’m worming them regularly, giving them a variety of food and shelter and ensuring their vaccinations are kept up to date. I’m really not sure what else I can do. The only ongoing issue is occasional foot problems owing to the constantly wet conditions, but I just keep treating any limping ones and they quickly improve. I’ve made little progress with clearing the fenceline for the new paddock, although I reckon there is only another 50m or so to go (through thick bush on a steep slope). However, the 300m or so I’ve already cleared is already getting overgrown with bracken again!

My calculations say we’ve now got 46 chicks but I’ve not managed to count them to verify this figure. Apart from the four largest, which are out in the covered peacock run, they are seething and squawking in the garage under a heat lamp and electric bulb. Already the eldest of these are playing up & escape at any opportunity. If it stays warm I may put them outside a bit earlier than the usual 8 weeks. It’s been a pretty good success rate, with only two deaths so far, following a particularly cold night when I think the smallest got shoved to the outside of the pack. Now I molly-coddle them a bit more, putting an extra lamp on for colder nights. I haven’t quite thought where all these chickens are going to go when older. The roosters will eventually go into our tummies, but they will still need to be kept for 6 months or so.

Murphy 'guarding' the chicks

The turkey eggs have continued to be infertile, but I’ve got my own back on William the gobbler, by promising him to someone for Christmas dinner (that’ll show him). The only trouble is I now have to source another gobbler. I’ve put a ‘wanted’ ad on Gumtree but have had no response so far. In the meantime two daft turkey girls have gone broody again, sitting relentlessly on empty nests. In response, I’ve built a turkey ‘anti-broody cage’. It’s got an apple bin as a frame, is covered in chicken wire and mounted on Koppers’ logs legs. The idea is that that because the hens can’t build a comfy nest in it, they hopefully will stop being broody after a week or so. While it’s perhaps not the nicest thing to do, it seems to me that a short while in there is preferable to weeks on end sitting on an empty nest or infertile eggs.

Beryl Bunny was starting to go stir-crazy in her cage in the garage so I moved it into the main chicken run with Bertie bunny, thinking she’d settle down there and make little bunnies. However, since I opened the cage door I’ve not set eyes on her. Whether she’s still in there I can’t say – the grass is long and there are plenty of shrubs, but she might equally have just burrowed out.

Inscrutable Bertie

I’ve sold a few goats already this year. I’d determined to hang onto them until they were weaned in January (when 5 months old), but there have been so many enquiries that I relented where I knew they would be going to good homes. A couple of Bronte’s colleagues want four more and a friend wants another. At this rate, I shall have to fight to hang onto the handful of girls I want to keep for breeding. I’ve sold the youngest male peacock and the older brother is going tomorrow. Pasha, the Dad, is looking quite magnificent and displays regularly now. Unfortunately every time I have the camera he gets shy so I’ve failed to catch him in full regalia. Narnie, the eldest female, has begun sitting on eggs so we’ve high hopes of a batch of babies in the New Year. I’ve also sold quite a few dozen eggs (hens’ - not peacocks’), as for a time we were getting around ten eggs a day plus turkey eggs.

What else has happened? Murphy the Cat appeared one day with a large hole alongside his bottom. Goodness how it occurred. It didn’t seem to bother him or slow him down, but looked pretty nasty. I washed it out with chlorohexadine, dabbed it with betadine for good measure and finished off with antiseptic zinc barrier cream (which I use for virtually all animal skin ailments and wounds). It’s pretty much healed up now thank goodness.

Bronte managed to shut poor Rosie Dog in the garage overnight on one occasion and she was beside herself when let out by Luke and me in the morning. The next day she got zapped by the electric fence and ran howling all the way back to the house, thoroughly traumatised. I traumatised her further a few days later when she once again wrecked both hers and Bruce’s bedding inside the new kennel. I was furious. It’s such an effort hauling the bedding out, picking up the shredded foam and sewing everything back together. Fingers crossed, she’s not done it since.

Bruce content in new(ish) kennel

I saw a strange creature up on the hill in the main goat paddock a week or so ago. I still can’t be sure what it was. It was brown and the size and general shape of a wombat. It didn’t have the characteristic gait of a devil or wallaby, nor the long tail of a spotted-tail quoll. I’m quite sure it wasn’t a dog and it seemed altogether the wrong shape for a cat. It may actually have been a wombat I suppose, although it moved quite quickly – perhaps they do have a turn of speed when roused! I was alerted to it by the entire herd of goats suddenly all looking in the same direction and starting to move towards a particular spot. Clearly they weren’t frightened, but the mysterious creature was spooked into running away.

 

It continues to be very wet and in fact got quite cold again for a few days, with snow falling on Mount Wellington. After a hot humid morning today, thunderstorms rumbled around the mountains and we were suddenly struck by a terrific thunder-shower with hail. 10.5cm fell in 5 minutes – washing large rivulets into the drive and causing torrents of water to flow down our steep road.

There has been a bit of action on the WWPG front. On 21 November, we put up a stand at an information session on the Intergovernmental Agreement on Forestry – at which there were state and federal government representatives involved in progressing the IGA. I sat up until 1pm the night before writing and laying out a ‘West Wellington Reserve Proposal’ – building on the previous High Conservation Values Report I’d produced. It also includes tourism ideas and proposals for how tourism income might be forthcoming. The intention is that it can be included as part of a wider regional development plan for the Huon Valley. Feedback on our stand was very good. Earlier this week, we met with a member of the Independent Verification Group – a group of ten people appointed under the auspices of the IGA to determine the final boundaries of protected forest. This was a positive meeting, but our hearts sank when we learnt we may have to attend workshops in the New Year to get across the ‘social values’ of West Wellington (ie as an amenity, aesthetic part of our landscape, water catchment, recreation and tourism hub etc). It feels like the process never ends.

I’ve been busier than usual on the marketing front, helping my neighbour progress his ideas for weather prediction and analysis tools for the insurance sector. It’s bad for the farm, but better for the bank balance.

We’ve been out and about a few times, notably last weekend to the 200th anniversary of the Anglesea Barracks in Hobart. The highlight was a display by Australia’s answer to the ‘Red Arrows’ – most exciting. Luke was enthtralled.

I was recently allowed to cut Bronte’s hair for the first time – and I think I did a darn good job! Not sure he’s quite so enamoured.

Luke and I found a massive moth – bigger than his hand – when out one day. We brought it home, photographed it – being careful not to smudge its wings - then released it into the warmth outside.

I’ve been advertising for a WWOOFER to help out on the farm, but have been singularly unsuccessful so far, not sure why. Perhaps fewer people are traveling while times are hard worldwide.

Monday 14 November 2011

I am making up for lost time by posting two days in a row. Also on the goose front, I’ve recently installed a great new goose hut – it was high time they had proper shelter. Months ago I brought an old hut from a farm sale over in Collinsvale (together with a range of other old junk which we piled precariously onto the ute). It’s been sitting in the garage since then (much to Bronte’s disgust) & I finally heaved it out last week & put a proper corrugated iron roof on top of the crumbling hardboard. Gave it a good coat of paint & managed to get it into the goose pen by towing it with the Suzuki, then cutting the goose fence & manhandling it into place (having first cut a flat base in the sloping pen).

We have had further babies born on the farm – but not to our animals. A pair of plovers had been nesting in one of the pig pens (thereby rendering it unusable for the pigs) and they finally hatched last week. They had just 2 babies (the cutest things you can imagine, with speckled brown backs & little black collars) but I think they may have lost one since – probably to the horrible cravens.

Other things that have kept me busy include spraying around the smaller electric fences near the house (bucks’ paddock, weaning pen & 2 pig pens) and trying to make the kennel impregnable to Rosie’s teeth. Spraying under the electric fences is necessary to stop grass and weeds shorting out the fence, particularly in wet weather. Brushcutting is too awkward and short-lived to be practical. I spent an uncomfortable couple of hours one morning with my top half in Rosie’s side of the kennel nailing GI strap (galvanized iron strapping left over from the house build, where it was used for endless tie-downs) around the edges where she’d chewed the tape I’d used to fix the building paper in place over the polystyrene insulation.

The dogs gave us a scare one day. I noticed they weren’t around but just assumed they were rootling around in the sedge somewhere as usual. However, 3 hours later they still hadn’t turned up & we started to get quite concerned. Eventually after much whistling & calling Rosie turned up happy & boisterous as usual. We immediately thought the worst & assumed Bruce was hurt or dead somewhere, possibly from a snake. However, I thought to ring our nearest neighbour just in case he’d seen them around & it seemed they’d spent the afternoon with him. He’d let them in the house & they’d slept on the bed with him! No wonder they didn’t want to go home. What possessed them to go right down there in the first place I don’t know – possibly they were following a scent trail. Since then I’ve been much more attentive to them – giving them liver treats when they come to me, taking more time to make a fuss of them & taking them around in the ute on my trips to Huonville & the Grove Shop.

Rosie has been making friends with Murphy the Cat and they often lay close together out in the sun now. Murphy had a mad fit one evening & began chasing Rosier. This excited Rosie hugely and she tore around in circles - getting a whack from Murphy each time she came within range! She's also been communing with Beryl Bunny, whilst Murphy has been eyeing up both the bunny & chicks as possible lunch.

I’ve also been doing my best to scare off the wretched currawongs & cravens – I feel I’m feeding half the Tasmanian population at present. I dare say they’ve got babies & my feed bowls are easy pickings. While I was thinking dark thoughts about currawongs recently, I was listening to a programme about predators in Tokyo and Uganda. In Tokyo they have a problem with large, bold crows with 1m wingspans – gulp. Apparently they swoop down & swipe food from peoples’ hands! They delicately avoided the use of the word ‘kill’ but talked instead of ‘controlling’ them. In Uganda farmers were complaining about baboons, lions and even gorillas! It made my predator problems pale in comparison!

Sunday 13 November 2011

I’ve heaps to catch up on. Somehow every minute of the day seems to be busy at present – and despite having finished season 3 of ‘24’ I’m still catching up with the PC backlog in the evenings. Now it is approaching summer, each weekend seems to be fully booked up – we’ve had the Herb Fair at Cygnet, the Woodbridge Open Day, the Huon Show & endless Little Athletics. I've also been along to Luke's assembly and have the dreaded parent help coming up soon.

The WWPG had a stall at the Cygnet Herb & Organic Fair, with the aim of highlighting the continuing lack of protection for West Wellington’s forests and possibly raising some funds by selling plants & home-made crafts. I put together some pictures of West Wellington flora & placed them in small frames we’d had for years & also assembled some other pictures and lace items I'd made a while ago & had no use for. The only people who bought anything of mine were those manning the stand!

We had hoped there would be no further need for the WWPG by now, but unfortunately the signing of the Intergovernmental Agreement has not so far brought about the promised ‘immediate protection’ of the nominated 430,000Ha. Since the Herb Fair, the infrared camera in one of the coupes above our house has captured wonderful footage of another healthy devil – this one apparently a female with a full pouch. It would be terrific to get footage of the cubs at some stage. We keep hearing that places like the Tarkine are the last stronghold of healthy devils & yet places like West Wellington, where we know they are living, are completely ignored. Take a look at the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4lhWFWqRusk

 

Last weekend was the Woodbridge Open Day. The attraction for us was that the Marine Discovery Centre was open – somewhere we’ve wanted to visit, but that is rarely open to the public. Luke had been once before with the school. We had the chance to poke about in the touch pools and I felt sorry for the creatures (shellfish, starfish etc) being mauled by all the kids. Stripey trumpeters (I love that name), a wrasse, flathead and a Tasmanian giant crab were kept in a large tank. The whole facility is educational and mainly aimed at schools and older students. It’s based in a picturesque bay with shallow waters teeming with oysters, crabs and starfish.

The Huon Show was yesterday and we had a rather longer session there than usual – from 11am to 4pm. We were exhausted on our return! The dog jumping was the highlight – it took a whole hour for us to see Clancy (a Staffie cross who looked like a bigger, chunkier, less pretty version of Rosie) win by jumping a wall 2.5m high! Mighty impressive. I was also very brave and took Luke on some awful ride called Energy Storm which whirled you around in the air and upside down. It was pretty hair-raising and produced quite as much adrenalin as I could handle in one day! I was probably double the age of everyone else on it. Luke put on a brave face but I suspect he was a bit shaky afterwards too! He was awfully quiet on the ride itself. Other attractions included draught horses, dodgems and a snake display.

Little Athletics continues to take up a quarter of each weekend. This week it was at the Domain in Hobart and all the Southern clubs were there – 300 kids! Luke got some stiff competition for a change. He was beaten by a dynamo shrimp in the 70m much to his chagrin, but he got his own back in the 100m when he just pipped him at the finish. We’ve bought a discus and a shotput as they seem to be the 2 events where Luke has the potential to be quite good. He’s very strong & quite coordinated. We can practice at home and it saves me having to always take him to coaching sessions.

Things are largely going well on the farm, just very, very busy. I’ve done another complete round of goat hoof clipping (all 35 of them), plus treated all their feet in case of rot, gave the youngsters booster vaccinations and drenched all of them for worms. I’m being much more vigilant on the worm front now & have written myself a schedule. This continuing damp, warm and humid weather is just the set of conditions that parasites love.

I’ve got quite a demand for goats for pets. Normally, I wouldn’t wean them until 5 months old (January) but I’ve agreed to let a couple go early to people I know will care for them & give them extra feed and attention while they continue to grow. All spare hours have been spent bashing a route through the bush in order to make space for a fence that will create a large new paddock for the goats. I shall feel so relieved when I’ve finished making the route – but then of course, I’ll still have to build the fence!

Fenceline slowly being driven up the hill through the bush

 

The birds are all doing well. I’ve been producing chicks willy nilly, such that we’ve now got 25 good quality Australorp crosses cheeping away in the garage. Four are rather larger than the others and are partitioned off where they act like rabid vultures, always appearing to be hungry. In fact Luke and I worked out that we’ve just reached a total of 100 creatures on the farm.

Still no luck on the turkey front & I’ve pretty well given up for this season. Might just have to write poor William off & get another gobbler over winter. The case of the mysterious disappearing turkey has not been solved & I don’t hold out much hope for her return. One of the 3 remaining girls has a really sore bottom - it looks like piles or a hernia. Anyhow I’ve had the distasteful job of cleaning off the dried poo & treating her with betadine & anti-bacterial zinc cream. If that doesn’t help I’ll have to try Proctosedyl! Clearly in that condition, she’s not going to welcome any advances William does make, nor even feel like laying eggs. Otherwise she seems in good health.

No luck selling the 2 young male peacocks so far – I need to widen my net. They occasionally get put in their place by Pasha who is strutting around & displaying his magnificent tail. I need to get another nest box in there soon as the 2 girls will begin laying shortly.

The geese and goslings are doing well although eating us out of house and home. Until they get a larger pen we have to pick dandelions and cut grass for them (a bucket or more a day) on top of the soaked wheat and wet mash they are also given. I don’t think I’ve mentioned Gary Gosling. A day after the second batch of goslings hatched I went to clear out the nest & heard cheeping. A gosling was trying to get out but was upside down. I helped it out & it was awfully weak. After giving it a few drops of my usual bird elixir of cod liver oil, egg yolk, sugar & water, I popped it under the heat lamp with the little chicks & christened it ‘Gary’. Since then he's grown like a weed, cheeps frantically & does lots of smelly poos. As a result I’ve turfed him into the chicken run where he makes me feel guilty by tripping over the long grass, cheeping pitifully & having to sit down for a rest every couple of metres when chasing the hens. Bertie the bunny sends him frantic!