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.
Life on the cloud farm. Small farming and self sufficiency, organics, permaculture and all that stuff.
Friday, 16 September 2016
Friday, 1 July 2016
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:
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.
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:
- Dangerous (will kill you very quickly) and
- 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).
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.
Monday, 27 June 2016
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 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.
Thursday, 23 June 2016
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.
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.
Wednesday, 8 June 2016
Spare milk
There is never really any such thing as spare milk. What we don't drink we make into cheese. Failing that it will go to fatten pigs or meat chickens. However, on days we do not save the milk for ourselves in the sterile bucket, there is always a little extra for the cats.
June update
It has been a very odd beginning to the winter this year. A month of mucky weather before finally turning on a week of beautiful skies and cold nights. Finally it is cold enough to have a fire at night and snuggle up under the doona. The rain, out of season, was hard as it mucked up my work schedule.
In a fit of desperation I tried to clear an old garden bed of a noxious vine (I always understood it to be called Brazilian Passion vine but a search has yielded no results). It is a rampantly growing vine that strongly resembles domestic passion fruit vines in every way except it bears no edible fruit. It is also a strong grower and will readily smother whole trees if left unchecked. The vine was well entangled in the undergrowth and had climbed up into the trees above. So in a fit of either brilliance, stupidity or possibly desperation I took a long length of one inch rope and tied it around the middle of the vine. My intention was to use the tractor to pull the vine free of the garden bed in one mass. I have done this successfully several times before on a smaller scale. Unfortunately the vine was well anchored at both ends. The tractor ended up snapping the rope several times and then gouged deep ruts into the orchard lawn.
This gave me the "Irrits" so I fetched my trusty chainsaw and cut away everything the vine was attached to. This meant felling every tree in the garden as well. I then cut it all up and burned it off as much as I could. The bigger stuff will need more time to dry yet so I will have a bonfire towards the end of winter.
It is a pity I don't have a before and after shot as the effect would be quite dramatic. I also intend to fell most of the trees in the foreground leaving a rather handsome Tibouchina. My wife was rather taken aback at the extent of my glorious victory over the rampant vine hordes. Apparently I was just supposed to be "neatening up the garden beds". Oh well.
On the plus side I think we have found a good site for my new potting shed.
In a fit of desperation I tried to clear an old garden bed of a noxious vine (I always understood it to be called Brazilian Passion vine but a search has yielded no results). It is a rampantly growing vine that strongly resembles domestic passion fruit vines in every way except it bears no edible fruit. It is also a strong grower and will readily smother whole trees if left unchecked. The vine was well entangled in the undergrowth and had climbed up into the trees above. So in a fit of either brilliance, stupidity or possibly desperation I took a long length of one inch rope and tied it around the middle of the vine. My intention was to use the tractor to pull the vine free of the garden bed in one mass. I have done this successfully several times before on a smaller scale. Unfortunately the vine was well anchored at both ends. The tractor ended up snapping the rope several times and then gouged deep ruts into the orchard lawn.
This gave me the "Irrits" so I fetched my trusty chainsaw and cut away everything the vine was attached to. This meant felling every tree in the garden as well. I then cut it all up and burned it off as much as I could. The bigger stuff will need more time to dry yet so I will have a bonfire towards the end of winter.
On the plus side I think we have found a good site for my new potting shed.
Tuesday, 24 May 2016
Q&A #7 Don't you find using a gun contrary to your lifestyle?
OK, this is one of those questions that doesn't go away. I am frequently taken to task by the anti-gun brigade because I use a rifle on the farm. I am told guns are only for killing, guns make murderers, guns are evil, guns supply criminals and so on and so forth.
So let me make this clear. A gun is a tool. It is not evil or anything else, it is just a tool made of wood and steel. On its own a gun is completely inanimate and harmless. The weakness in a gun is the human using it. The exact same weakness is found in humans using both cars and knives- both of which cause far more deaths in Australia each year than guns! I have yet to hear of anyone joining an anti-knife or anti-car lobby however. It simply appears that the media and a few politicians find it convenient to villainize guns and gun owners in a country where the majority lives in an urban environment and has no use for such tools. Were the same sources to try to ban cars and knives they would be looked upon as idiots!
Having said that I firmly do not believe everyone should have the right to own a gun. There are most definitely individuals out there who should not be allowed to own a gun, or for that matter be permitted to breed! I am a firm advocate of licensing the individual and tracking ownership of all firearms. Why? For the same reason you need a car license! To prove you are a fit person to use this device.
Now on a farm a gun becomes an essential tool if you keep livestock. We live by a firm set of rules regarding the humane treatment of our animals and one of those is that the death of any livestock must be instant, unexpected and painless. The most reliable method to achieve this by far is to destroy the animals brain with a single well placed shot from a rifle. A rifle allows me to stand at a safe distance or shoot from an unseen angle and carries killing force over a long distance. I take great care to be an expert with my marksmanship and will never take the shot unless I am absolutely sure of its placement. Likewise I carefully follow all safety procedures with a firearm. If you do this you should never have reason for an accident.
So there you have it folks. I use guns like I use any other tool.
To the young anti-gun-lobby-lady-from-the-city I can only ask you to show me your anti-car lobby and anti-knife lobby cards when next you visit. If you really are about saving lives and not just joining the media bandwagon you will of course belong to these groups too.
So let me make this clear. A gun is a tool. It is not evil or anything else, it is just a tool made of wood and steel. On its own a gun is completely inanimate and harmless. The weakness in a gun is the human using it. The exact same weakness is found in humans using both cars and knives- both of which cause far more deaths in Australia each year than guns! I have yet to hear of anyone joining an anti-knife or anti-car lobby however. It simply appears that the media and a few politicians find it convenient to villainize guns and gun owners in a country where the majority lives in an urban environment and has no use for such tools. Were the same sources to try to ban cars and knives they would be looked upon as idiots!
Having said that I firmly do not believe everyone should have the right to own a gun. There are most definitely individuals out there who should not be allowed to own a gun, or for that matter be permitted to breed! I am a firm advocate of licensing the individual and tracking ownership of all firearms. Why? For the same reason you need a car license! To prove you are a fit person to use this device.
Now on a farm a gun becomes an essential tool if you keep livestock. We live by a firm set of rules regarding the humane treatment of our animals and one of those is that the death of any livestock must be instant, unexpected and painless. The most reliable method to achieve this by far is to destroy the animals brain with a single well placed shot from a rifle. A rifle allows me to stand at a safe distance or shoot from an unseen angle and carries killing force over a long distance. I take great care to be an expert with my marksmanship and will never take the shot unless I am absolutely sure of its placement. Likewise I carefully follow all safety procedures with a firearm. If you do this you should never have reason for an accident.
- A gun is always considered to be loaded and is treated as such. Whenever you pick up a firearm the muzzle is kept pointed in a safe direction and the weapon is opened to inspect the condition (to find out if there is a bullet in the chamber and if the magazine is loaded). You do this regardless of having just witnessed someone else do this in front of you.
- You must ALWAYS be aware of the direction the muzzle is pointed regardless of having just safety checked the weapon. This will eventually become a habit and this is a good thing.
- You must be aware of the background before you shoot- where is the bullet going to go and how far will it travel.
- You must ALWAYS positively identify your target before shooting.
- You must make safe (step#1) your gun when you have finished shooting and before it is cleaned and stored.
- Your gun must be safely and legally stored in a locked container. In this country this means the container meets certain safe requirements and is firmly bolted to the building.
So there you have it folks. I use guns like I use any other tool.
To the young anti-gun-lobby-lady-from-the-city I can only ask you to show me your anti-car lobby and anti-knife lobby cards when next you visit. If you really are about saving lives and not just joining the media bandwagon you will of course belong to these groups too.
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