Getting over the shock

I have spent the last 24 hours trying to grow strong, and get over the shock of the state of our dear farm. We arrive late on Saturday afternoon, with the bare essentials to survive the night. A port-a-cot for Sabina, a couch for us, a kettle, crockery, cutlery, pots. We don't even have a fridge. Just an esky packed full of ice. Not easy with a one year old child, still highly dependent on goat milk.

This is my husband's first visit since settlement. He does a quick round of the farm in the fading light, and returns distraught. I am not surprised. He has seen the glass in the shed, the left over cars, tractors, and of course the ash circle in the paddock. He feels broken. I can feel it. I am so glad I came yesterday. Today I am strong and I give him words of courage. He feels like he is sinking into a bottomless pit of helplessness. Nothing seems to soothe him. But I know where he's at. I was there yesterday. And I know that he can get over this. So I cajole, and push and prod.

He refuses to even take a shower. True ... it's very dirty, but the water is hot, and clean. The experience refreshing. I come out smelling sweet and looking happy. He goes to bed somewhat consoled.

Shed of glass, paddock of ash

The farm settlement was on Wednesday, and as I don't work Fridays, I take this first opportunity to check up on "da ranch". Our ranch. Rolling green paddocks sooth my eyes as I drive through the front gate. I am so happy. I park in front of the house, feed Sabina (my 1 and a half year old daughter), and together we go exploring. It doesn't take long for reality to start hitting.

My mood plunges quickly, as I take in the details. The previous owners had left in a hurry. He got a job across the sea, his wife followed him. They took the essentials, and left the cleaning up to the kids. To their 21 year old son. I remember how well I cleaned up when I was that age. My clothes moved from the floor to the bed during the day, and from the bed to the floor at night. That was "cleaning up".

Here, likewise, except that we're talking 37 acres, and not a bedroom. I get to the shed, and my stomach starts churning. The shed floor is full of broken glass. The shed is a huge 3 bay machinery, lock-up shed. There is a lot of floorspace ... buried under broken glass. The glass cuts my heart, my heart starts to bleed. I look away.

I look away straight at the paddock. I want to cry, but I can't. I cuddle my daughter closer to me, as if what I see, could hurt her. In the middle of the paddock is a huge ash pile. A burnt hole. The remnants of the "farm cooling" party. My eyes open wide. I cannot believe the size of the fire that must have burnt here on Tuesday night. I turn around and head back to the house. No changes here. Same cracked window, same weeds.

As we depart, I shake off the sombre feeling, and focus on the green rolling hills. I tell myself to be strong. We can do this. I know we can.

Welcome!

My husband and I have just purchased a beautiful 37 acre (14 hectares) property in Victoria, Australia. Come on a journey with us, as we clean up, renovate, refence, learn to farm, experience the "tree change", laugh, cry and play on this beautiful property.