Q&A Tools

Talking to Karl, an old friend of mine the other day. We are both tool fanatics in that we both believe in using quality tools. During this discussion I was bemoaning the dearth of good machetes to be found on the market. Now for Karl this is no problem, he is a jeweler/blacksmith/knife maker and so can put together pretty much whatever he needs. I however must make do or in this case alter what I have to make it serviceable.
Case in point was a pretty horrible example of a Chinese made machete. Oddly enough the steel was not entirely terrible and would hold an edge. The grip though was a true nightmare. Too deep in the hand, split through its length and fissured just under the knuckles enough to make it impossible to use without a glove. It was made from some unrecognizable timber and for some reason sat in the hand in such a way as to make it impossible to strike a clean blow- the blade would always twist in the hand as it landed.
In a fit of desperation to get a job done one day I tore the old handle off and ground the rusted old rivets out. I then quickly made up a new splint grip out of native sycamore and fastened it with stainless steel bolts. Five minutes sanding on the linisher and I had a comfortable and solid grip good enough to last until I could buy a real machete.
I then discovered I had entirely changed this tool. It now cut cleanly and struck precisely and with force. I could use it for hours with no trouble. That was around five years ago....

October update

Four days ago Bonnie, our second house cow, dropped a beautiful little healthy heifer. We have named her Jessie.

She is soft and quite cuddly. Not at all afraid of humans. I was very pleased to see Alessa, our maremma, quietly standing guard in the paddock with the cows for the first few days. She still goes out to spend the night with them and keeps the wild dogs away.
Anna, first house cow, is due to drop her calf in another two weeks.

After the delightfully wet winter it has turned dry. Our tanks are running low and we are all a little on edge when it comes to using water. To make things worse some charming piece of vermin chewed a hole in an exposed section of water line from the tank that feeds the cows trough. Not at all happy I must say! I discovered the leak when the tank was nearly four fifths empty and managed to patch the line before burying it deeply to prevent further chewing.
We attempted to pump water from the creek down in the rainforest (we share a water line with our wonderful neighbours) but found the pump was unable to start for reasons as yet unknown.
On the plus side I can hear the frogs "calling the rain" outside. They seem pretty positive so I will assume they know what they are doing.

Times are a changing

I feel it is time for a change!
For those who do not know I have worked as a prison officer for nearly a decade now and it has taken its toll. PTSD and depression and so forth. I think I have finally had enough and so it is time to look in a new direction. This has presented me with something of a dilemma, what to do? What is available? I am not so young anymore and many of the more physical jobs are now out of my reach. I also have something of a lack of tolerance for fools nowadays ruling many of the service industries out! In fact I have quite had enough of working for other people altogether so the only realistic option is to go back into business for myself.
Now I have been a cabinetmaker for many years, I made fine furniture and historical reproductions. It was a fine job and I loved it. Unfortunately it is also a fickle industry as I was essentially selling luxuries, something people can do without in times of need (and quite rightly so). In addition the climate on our farm is ill suited to cabinet work- the rapid changes in humidity play merry hell with timber, especially if it is to be shipped to a customer in a dryer climate. So I was forced to reluctantly rule this option out.
Late one night as we finished a bottle of wine my wife commented that I had always loved beekeeping and could I not consider that as an alternative?
In my younger days I had been an avid beekeeper. I kept around forty hives and they kept me fed and the rent paid (I was living in share housing) when jobs were scarce. I absolutely loved the bees and was enthralled with their workings. I read avidly and discovered that bees operate only by their rules! They cannot be made to do anything and it is the beekeeper that must bend to the will of the bees if he is to be successful. For some reason I find this simple fact profoundly satisfying.
So the idea grew rapidly, I spent many hours over the next few months researching the finances and requirements. Looking at the market and need for honey as well as pollination services, wax, propolis and royal jelly. I was pleased to find the market is better than ever for honey and all services are in high demand. The area we live in supplies many good sites within a few hours drive of our farm. Overall it is looking very promising indeed. My doctor is also of the opinion that it would be an excellent therapy.
Plans are therefore afoot! I will keep you posted.

Spring Update 2016

This year it actually feels like spring. This is not the usual in northern Australia as we usually get a more simple variation of only two seasons. Hot and dry or hot and wet, also known as winter and summer. It has been an unusually wet winter. We had not needed to pump water from the creek even once so far. This has been good for the grass but less than optimal for the outdoors jobs we traditionally save for this time of year.

Nevertheless we have managed to put a lid on the second household water tank that has languished lidless for a year or more. The lid or roof to a tank is important as it keeps the water therein dark and cool. This prevents the growth of algae and other such nasties that I would prefer to not have to drink.

Unfortunately other jobs have not gone so well. The hothouse over the veggie garden remains un-assembled. This is partly due to needing some materials but mostly due to my own overbearing inertia. We did attempt to get the tractor in there a few weeks ago to bore out the footings. However the bees began to object strongly due to the proximity of the tractor to their hives. Point taken, I will suit up next time I try.

A month ago, or so, we purchased six ex-battery hens to give us some sort of egg supply until we can replace our original flock after the quoll attack. Now I must say I was dubious indeed about getting ex-battery hens. I had done this once before when I was a much younger man and it was a terrible experience- The birds had spent their entire lives crammed into tiny cages and had no idea how to simply be chickens. They did not recognize any food but factory pellets, could not scratch and did not even know to move inside out of the rain let alone perch. I had to teach them all of this. Their beaks had been clipped so severely that they were left with a horny stub making it all but impossible to eat. On this point I will say that in my experience with poultry (of over some twenty-nine years) there is absolutely no excuse for beak clipping under any circumstances! It is a completely barbaric act akin to cutting the nose and lips off a child. For that matter there is no excuse for keeping any animal in battery conditions either.
But back to the case in point. The six ex-battery hens we purchased were certainly an improvement on my previous experiences. Although they had been beak clipped it was at least fairly moderate, not that I approve still, leaving them with a reasonable ability to feed themselves. They were a lot more alert and learned much more quickly even though I still had to teach them about scratching, perching and greens. My wife found it hilarious to see me squatting down beside the hens showing them how to dig for worms (Before anyone says anything, I used my fingers in the dirt! I did not scratch like a chicken with my feet...). I suppose it is good that they get a chance at a new life in a way.

In other news we have taken both cows off the milk (ceased milking) so they have a rest period before dropping their calves late this year. We are hoping everything goes well after last seasons shenanigans. Mind you, the two dairy heifers we raised sold readily and paid quite well upon sale, clearing a few bills. Bonnie's calf, Arthur, is growing well. He looks a lot like his dad, Francis, (We did not name him) although he has his mothers pugnacious attitude. He has been sent over to the neighbours place to spend some time with his dad and keep the grass down. He is developing a magnificent build and I hope to grow him right out to three years.

Today I am continuing the clean out and rearrangement of my workshop. Over the years my acquired tools and materials have threatened to smother any chance of actually working in there. So I have ruthlessly begun a major throwing out of rubbish, evicted the resident pythons, several rats (much to the delight of the cats) and one small termite colony in a pile of beautiful old laminate sheets I was storing for eventual use. Not too happy about the last. Then comes the process of storing all of my tools as well as the tools I have inherited from my father so that they will be safe and preserved. In addition I have given myself back a work place. I hope this will be my last clean out  before I build the new workshop.

Q&A #8 "I could never live where you do- it sounds too dangerous"

OK, I know that is a statement, not a question, but I wanted to post a reply.
I could firstly say that as Australia is my home and I have never known anywhere else it seems perfectly safe to me. Having said that and having consulted many of my overseas friends, Yes this country can be hazardous to the unwary, stupid or just plain unlucky.
Much of our wildlife is quite venomous. We tend to categorize these into:

1. Dangerous (will kill you very quickly) and 
2. Not dangerous (wont actually kill you although you will wish you were dead, or will kill you slowly so you have time to get help).

I am not kidding.
A Kiwi friend pointed out the way Aussies have a very cautious but relaxed attitude towards safety. You will always notice an Aussie carefully inspects the place he intends to sit if he is outdoors, making sure there are no "biteys" such as spiders or bull-ants. He will always carefully tap his boots out before putting them on. Aussies will keep a close eye on the ground when walking through the bush and are always alert for the rustling sound of something slithering through the undergrowth. Most of all no Aussie would *ever* put their hand down a hole or under a log without a very, very careful inspection first. Not doing so would likely remove you from the gene pool post-haste. Aussies do not go swimming in estuaries in the north of Australia and preferably dont swim in murky water at all. We are aware that many apparently innocuous objects such as cone shells on the reef and even mossy rocks or pretty little octopus in shallow tidal water can result in an agonizing death.
This is not to say that we live in perpetual terror. We don't. This is home and it is a beautiful place to live but it also encourages a person to be thoughtful and calm about his decisions. Not a bad thing I think as this is also a country where arrogance will quickly get you killed. American tourists in particular- when the sign says "Crocodiles-no swimming!" it really means it.

The month continues

This has not been a good month.
The Quoll attacks have continued. I was late shutting the chooks door one night and the Quoll managed to get in and slaughter almost every chook remaining. I was appalled at the wanton savagery of the attacks. The Quolls did not eat anything, nor carry off any of the dead, they simply slaughtered. I then took precautions to protect the remaining four injured chooks. Unfortunately the largest Quoll managed an impossible leap to an air vent at the back of the pens and finished his work last night. I arrived too late and saw the culprit sitting at the top of the air vent. In a fit of pique I managed to dong him with the chooks feed bowl to send a message and he took off into the dark.
We buried the chooks under fruit trees to at least make some use of the carcasses. I suppose the only up side is that we were soon going to replace the entire flock anyway as they were mostly beyond laying. I just wanted their ends to be a little quicker and kinder than this.
On the same day little Sen was run over by a car on the road out front of the property. We are all very upset by this. She was a beautiful, delicate, little thing. Her sweet nature perfectly countered Reis' tomboy-ish nature. Rei is distraught and clings to me constantly. She will get over it though. Unfortunately that is just the way of farm life. It is a dangerous environment and the Australian bush can be very unforgiving to the unwary.

The month of blood!

Sounds like a horror movie doesn't it? This month we have been besieged by predators all around. I don't know why, food must be hard to come by at the moment.
The pigeons have been constantly stalked by a bolder than usual Grey Goshawk, the Pythons are on the move in the warmer than usual weather, the mouse plague is still going strong despite the efforts of the three cats and wild dogs are roaming nearby each night although our maremma, Alessa, has been keeping them at a distance.
Last night the chooks were attacked by Quolls. We had finished dinner when we heard a commotion from the chook shed and the sound of a chook in distress. I grabbed a torch and ran out to the chook shed in thongs (footwear- not the undies!) pausing long enough to grab the axe as I shot past. I was fairly certain a big scrub python was running amok in with the chooks. However, when I got there I was confronted by a sizeable Quoll busily savaging a chook and feathers everywhere. The strangest thing was that he was completely unconcerned by my presence and continued killing his meal with me standing close enough to touch him.  It was only when I began banging the wire and making a fuss did he reluctantly retreat. A large Rhode island red chook lay dead and half eaten, a bantam hen lay dead and savaged and another hen was wounded. I was amazed at not only the savagery of the attack but also the complete lack of concern at my presence. I secured the chook shed, which had been left open through my own neglect, and removed the bodies to a nearby location so the quolls could hopefully finish their meal and not try to dig into the pens. The large, I am guessing, male quoll was soon joined by a smaller quoll, probably female. Once again largely unworried by the nearby humans.
Here I am conflicted. Quolls are an endangered species and so I overjoyed at having them living in the area. Conflicted with the need to protect my livestock. I suppose the solution will be to ensure all possible prey are secured each night and to accept the losses of any that are not.