The Hay Harvest

Picking up 500 odd bales of hay (small squares) out of the paddock is no easy task.  Especially in the summer heat.  So already from the time of our first harvest we have learnt to start in the early evening, and work into the night.

Back then our attire was also rather amateurish, what with bras, shorts, sneakers and all that.  And of course our daughter was much younger then - we used to put her to sleep, and take the baby monitor with us in the truck.  But if the baby monitor was inside the cabin, it would lose contact.  So I drove the truck, holding the steering wheel with one hand, while holding the baby monitor outside the window with the other hand, all the while watching that the bales would get picked up by the loading arm, and making sure the crew on the back was ok.

What a relief it was when my parents offered to help.  Even just having someone at the house to look after our daughter was a huge relief.

Since those early days, we've also invested in some serious harvesting clothes.  It wasn't a financial investment per se.  More a rummage through the cupboard.  Long sleeved collared shirts, farm boots, long pants that hang over the boots - strategically vented in my husband's case - and good leather gloves.  And all of a sudden you've got a team that's just as ready to go boot scootin, as picking up hay.

Last year we got new neighbours, and they offered to help.  Kar-Lee rocked up, gazed at me sitting in the drivers seat of the truck and commented "Oh, I didn't know you had a trucking license."  I gently rolled my eyes up to the sky, pouted, and muttered something about a few rounds in a private paddock.

Last year must have been easy work because this year the neighbours have offered to help again.  Richard is away fighting fires in the Grampians, so it's just Kar-Lee and kids.

When picking up the bales from the paddock, three people makes up full house on the back of the truck, so the other two kids just run along ahead of the truck, trying to fix up the bales so they align better for pick up.  But when it comes to unpacking the truck, and putting the bales in the shed, it's all systems go, and everyone's in the game.

The younger kids don't have much experience behind them, and at times they are like little mice, dashing across the hay bales here and there, and no matter where they go, they are always in the way.  And of course we're working into the night, so they are getting tired.

But they never lose their spirit, and keep going like little duracell drummer bunnies.  By the end of the second truck the hay stack has grown high, everyone is sneezing, the bales are starting to feel heavy and Kar-Lee's youngest son is swinging from the rafters.  We're in stitches.

Then Kar-Lee and the kids drive off to pick up Richard from two towns down the road.  All merriment vanishes in a puff of the dust they kick up as they drive off, and the night darkens somehow.  We load up the third truck in silence, interrupted by the occasional "slow down" from the truck tray.  We're half way through the unloading when Kar-Lee returns with Richard.  Kids are safely tucked in bed, dreaming of huge hay stacks.

We joke and laugh again, as the hay stack in the shed grows, and grows.  I line up the last four bales on the tray of the truck, and start boot scootin.  Then we're all back in the field picking up the last truck load for Bob.  There's still more bales left in the paddock, but we've run out of room on the truck.  We park the truck, and break open the beer.

The pump

We have two water tanks, and hence, two water pumps.  One tank is up at the house, while the other is at the big shed.  The water pump at the big shed was originally at the house.  However, soon after moving in, we bought a new tank, installed it behind the shed, and the house water pump got relegated there, while we bought a new pump for the house.

So the pump at the shed has been reliably pumping water for goodness knows how long.  When you spend time at the big shed, you can hear it's whirr and whistle as it periodically turns itself on to re-pressurise.  Of course, you can hear it when you turn on the tap too.  It grinds along, while the water comes out of the tap with as much pressure as you want.

The other day I turned on the tap, and watched as the water poured slowly into my bucket.  There was an eerie silence.  The pump had gone.  The whirr and whistle no longer accompanied the flowing water, and there was no pressure to speak of.  It was a bit like the absence of a good friend, who always talks a little bit too much.

When I told my husband about the broken pump, he gazed at me and asked "Do I need to fix it today?".  Well, the water still pours out of the taps albeit slower, but it's far more than a trickle, so I figured there was no hurry.  But I am hoping that it will be replaced by Christmas.

Christening the new float

So, yesterday I picked up the new float. Now, horse floats are used for transporting horses. About 50% of the time. They are also very useful for moving furniture, taking rubbish to the tip, and doing other runs that are part of every day living.

Everyone has their own idea about christening the new float.

Firstly, it gets a name "The Flummery". Then, I barely bring it home, and Pete insists on christening it by taking some kitchen cupboards up to the farm.

In the morning, at first light, I christen the float my way - I take Crownie to pony club for some cross country training. Crownie, of course, christens the float her own way.

Then I barely return from pony club, when Pete insists we use the float to pick up the trees we bought last weekend.

On the return trip, we decide to test the user experience. I jump in the float, and have a ride.

By the time we've had the float for 24 hours, it's well and truly christened.

And I haven't even mentioned the wombat. Oooops. I think I just did.

Have generator, can ...

open garage doors, use the stove and water. How good is that?

But, can't use the lights, fridge or kettle. No, if you want to use those, you have to plug the genrator into a different power socket. Then of course you can use the lights, but you no longer have running water.

Love it!

Have generator, will ...

read instruction manual.

We have finally bought a generator. Because out here, on the perimeter, when you lose power you lose the water pump, the lights, the stove, the ability to open garage doors. It's like going back in time a 100 years.

And, out here on the perimeter, you lose power pretty often. Once a week on average.

And, sometimes, when you do lose power, you better be the one to call the power company. Because it may turn out that the problem is your very own power pole in your own back paddock, and no one else but you and your two best buddy neighbours are experiencing a black out. And your best buddy neighbours have a generator, or three, so they don't care!

So we've bought one.

And tonight, husband is sitting and carefully reading the instruction manual.