Walkie Talkie

Two days after Black Saturday we bought ourselves walkie talkies, a set of two, so that we could listen to local CFA communications. Since then we've found they are great for communicating around the farm, where we don't always have mobile phone reception. Recently, our daughter has been getting really good at using them too. So last week, my husband popped out and got himself a bigger, stronger model. (He'd been eyeing it off for 6 months apparently, and they just took $100 off.)

Today, we're getting ready for visitors. Sabina is inside colouring in some pictures, Pete is checking something out around the shed, and I am starting up the BBQ.

"Ksh. I'm on my way back. Do you need some help with the fire? Over. Ksh", says Pete.
"Oh yeah, that would be good", I respond.
"Ksh. I'm just finishing this picture! Ksh", butts in Sabina.

Pete appears around the corner. Sabina opens the door.

"Ksh. Number 89, number 89, cheeken parmeegiana with chyps and salad. Ksh", comes through on the walkie talkies. I laugh.

In passing

I return from my horse riding lesson and head inside for a well earned coffee. This is my third horse riding lesson in a row. On the way in, I pass my husband and daughter, who, having finished their indoor tasks, are heading out ... at midday.

"I'd like to have another horse riding lesson next week", I propose.
"What?!", gasps my husband. "I want my wife back!"

Wood for the fire

Getting wood from the garden shed ought to be child's play. I mean, husband has already brought it in from the paddocks, he's sliced, and split it and stacked it in the shed. The hard work is done, right?

I drive the barrow into the little shed. I can't even drive in. Unsplit wood lies to the left, another barrow with hardwood lies to the right. The floor is littered with bark. I park outside.

Now comes the choice of wood. If the fire is roaring, then you need the small stuff at the bottom, for tomorrow, to get the fire restarted. And the big stuff at the top to go on right now. If the fire is still starting up, then it's vice versa.

Then you need to watch out for red backs and splinters.

And finally, don't get too excited and overload the barrow. Or the whole thing will tip on your first turn.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch ...

All that rain

It rained during the week. Lots. The gauge is showing 63.5mm. That is a serious drop of rain for one week, even in our neck of the woods.

I arrive at the farm in the evening, unpack the car, and wonder whether to check on the horses. Oh heck, by the time I decide I would have checked and been back again.

I venture outside, let my house shoe slip off and point my toe into the gumboot. Some magical force holds me back. I take my foot out again, and look inside. A girl in a red hat, with a torch on her head is staring back at me from within the boot. "Oh, what the?!" There is at least 10cm of water in it! "Oh, no way!", I break the silence and pour out the water. The insole slips out, saturated, looking somehow gnawed. I check the other gumboot, and pour out another 10cm, maybe more. Sheesh. They were under cover too!

I slip into my jodhpur boots, which have now done so much farm work, they don't provide much protection against the wet. I am about to tip toe off across the temporary swamp that is our back yard, when the magical force makes me look at my horse riding boots. No, couldn't be. I mean, they are further undercover than my gumboots. Not right against the wall like Pete and Sabina's gumboots, but further.

I glance inside and see that girl again. An expletive flies. Not my horse riding boots too! The lining in these will take days to dry out and I have a horse riding lesson on Saturday!