So we’ve been googling all things dairy today, particularly following developments in the raw milk movement and legislation around the distribution and consumption of milk.

I’m going to write a post about it shortly, but in the meantime, I’m on the hunt for things like cream separators and butter churns. They’re hard to come by, and I’m looking for small scale domestic items, probably antique (scotch hands and the like), not big scale industrial machinery. Anyway, on Ebay I found a couple of churns that I’d LOVE to own…

This one… 

and

This one… 

feeling generous? got a bit of spare change? my self sufficiency fund, and hence your contribution to the raw milk movement would be most appreciative…

cheeky i know, but i’m desperate…

I put a bid on an antique pair of scotch hands (see previous post for pic). There’s only 1 other person bidding, no doubt some crazy feral raw milk fanatic who’s been searching for scotch hands to no avail as i have. i may have a battle on my hands…

more later

xxV 

…or have been, incessantly…

[aside and preamble - there is alot of dairy talk in this here post, so vegans and those of a lactose-intolerant persuasion might wish to skip those bits. I’ve been thinking how much happier i am to ingest a raw, unpasteurised wholefood than to drink soy or rice milks. The extraction and processing of these products creates a food which is not natural or whole. anyway, just a thought, which is not relevant for those who are ethical vegans or those who have a system which can’t digest milk…]

…today, happily, we see some sun, and maybe some tomatos will ripen and our perpetually soggy little calf will dry out a bit and her rain scalded little hoofs and legs will regrow the fur they’ve lost and i will get some vitamin D and my disposition will change from glowering to glowing and the chooks will lay and the worms that usually live outside under the soil but have made the big trek indoors in their hundreds will go back to their earthly home and so on.

I feel somewhat guilty bagging out the rain, since i know come too many sunny days in a row and i will be worrying about when the next rains will come… but ordinary day to day tasks become very difficult when the sog reaches a certain level and the water table is no longer below the surface of the earth…

So, be that as it may, rains and so on, things carry on and there are goings on to report, and some pics to illustrate said goings on.

We have a new housecow, and her name is Rosie. She is a beautiful jersey, about 6 years old, and she’s pregnant with her 4th calf. She comes to us via the generosity of Brian, Charlene’s boss. He’s a cool guy. Brian’s wife is named Rosie, and we could think of no better name for this much loved newest addition to our small herd.

rosie

Rosie has a very very placid disposition and from day one let us squat down at very close quarters around her back legs while we did things to her udder… It feels slightly precarious to be in such close proximity to a potentially swift kick with a hind hoof. I’ve seen the damage that can cause and a hoof in the face would not be pretty… but she’s a darling and honestly I really feel perfectly safe around her.  She’s due to be dried off in about 3 weeks before the birth (she’s due 15th July)and towards the end of her lactation her milk will become very creamy (and it is!).

pretty face

We are currently milking anywhere between 4 - 6 litres from her in the mornings. We have alot of milk product in the fridge!

 
the first milking - about 6 litres…

our fridge… full of milk and cream…

cream begins at the arrow…

separating the cream from the milk

Dried off heifers who are in the last trimester of their pregnancy are called "springers", and take a different diet to help build up their strength for the birth and for suckling their newborns, which takes alot out of the cow. After the birth Rosie will produce up to 15 - 20 litres of milk. Her newborn calf will drink about a litre and a half. Hopefully our little Luka will drink from her as well (we are currently feeding her Rosie’s milk via bottle or bucket). That will leave us a good 12 or so litres to strip out of her by hand! That is muscle building work! Brian suggested we take up squeezing stress balls to strengthen our hands for the ordeal…

With so much milk product I’ve been looking into making other dairy foods - butter, yoghurt, cheese…  I have no equipment to speak of, so I’m doing alot by hand and in a fairly ad hoc way, but the butter seemed to work just fine, we’ve had it spread on our toast and it doesn’t have a strong or sweet taste, but it’s soooooooooo good… i just have to experiment a bit more…

our butter

To make the butter I used about 500ml of cream (you can use as much as you have or want) and this made about 100 grams of butter.  

I used a bowl and a hand whisk (wooden utensils soaked in water are preferable, cos the butter won’t stick to them), but you can use a blender or food processor.

Whip the cream in the bowl until it passes through the whipped cream stage and then quite suddenly you will hear a sloshing in the bowl as the butter and buttermilk separate. Drain off the buttermilk into a jug (use it for drinking or baking).

The next stage is called "washing" the butter and is the process by which all the buttermilk is expressed from the butter. Marja Fitzgerald says that she washes the butter only once, and that by leaving some buttermilk in the butter the butter will stay sweet for about 5 days and then develop a "cultured flavour". I washed the butter many times, using a wooden spoon to pat and squeeze the butter until the water runs clear (my mum used to use "scotch hands" for this process). Then I drained off the last of the water and continued to pat and squeeze intil no more buttermilk came out. It comes out through the buttter in small beads and runs off. It takes some time, and i was pretty thorough, but i’m sure there was a little buttermilk left.

Further advice indicates that it is probably best not to use fresh cream (milked that day) for butter making. Best to use cream that is about 5 days ol. The taste will be sweeter, not so tasleless. If you use cream that has been naturally soured at room temperature just slightly, then you will have a culktured butter. 

Today I am going to experiment with yoghurt. It seems like a complex process with incubators and double boilers and so on, but i am taking Marja’s advice and keeping it simple. I’ll put a spoonful of storebought, unflavoured yoghurt (jalna) in a jar and pour just milked (and therefore very warm) milk into the jar. I’ll place it somewhere reasonably warm, wrapped in a wooly jumper and leave it for 24 hours, see what happens! I think Marja was probably living in the kind of farmhouse where there was an aga or other wood burning stove going all the time (as it was during my childhood), making the kitchen a very warm place. I have a fucking awesomely fantastic Ilve stove, but when it’s not on it’s just stone cold, and doesn’t do anything to keep the kitchen warm. Perhaps when the weather turns more wintry and we are having fires at night i can place the jars around the fire to do their thing. Anyway, I’ll let you know how it goes…

Enough with the dairy!

(phew! as i write this I feel the list of tasks that cover the concept "self sufficency" stretch out before me in a neverending scroll towards the vanishing point of the horizon… the produce to be dealt with by baking, preserving or eating before it is spoiled - limes by the score, bananas by the many hands, milk milk milk; the lawns to be mowed before the water table turns everything to sog again; the vegies to be tended and garden beds to be mulched, the animals to be cared for, and that’s just today… )

So Tashi has a new house. Goats do not like the rain. The only place Tashi had to go to be out of the rain was the verandah, and i’m all about keeping animal housing and human housing quite seperate… the old pighouse would have been ideal, but the other thing about tashi is her deep need to be near humans. she likes to be able to see us, be near us, and the pig house was too far away, she just would not stay. Even tethering her was useless. she just got herself into a terrible mess trying to get closer to us. So a house for Tashi was in order. Tashi has a good sprinkling of mountain in her, likes to climb, be at the highest point, so we decided on an A frame up off the ground that she could climb up to, be safe from the weather and be near us. Our man in Dunoon, John, made the house for us. Here it is. We need to spruce it up a bit, probably with a sign and some carnival lights, but she seems to like it…

tashi’s new house 

peeking out…

My dairygrrl is going well out at the farm. Apparently she’s onto the "second stage of learning", which is all about the cows and calves. Brian has been reading this blog, and laughed when I said they milked 400 cows a day. Actually the herd is 400 strong but of that 400 there are always cows who are not being milked because they are in the process of drying off and so on prior to calving. So often these mornings Charlene spends mornings wandering in the paddocks searching for the calves that have been born overnight. They are very small and hide in the grass, and play dead when you pick them up. She identifies them and then records every little detail about them before rosie comes to take them to their new home. In the calf pens they get warm milk delivered straight from their mums morning and night. They are kept in the pen to keep them warm, dry and safe from harm. This way they can be monitored for disease and given extra attention if they are struggling. She still comes home smiling every night, with that special aroma of cow in her clothes and hair.

One of our loved family members has hit the road, and we are sad to see her go. Our much loved farmboy Zhane has turned swaggie boy and is movin’ … Big adventures await her but she knows she always has a home here. I’ll miss her quiet presence in the garden, or feeding the animals, or smokin’ on the balcony while looking out towards the horizon. She’s been such a fantastic help on this sustainability journey we’re on, and we hope she comes back full of the world, full of the roads she’s travelled, full of color and joy.

Zhane … thinking of nuffin …

Zboy

So we have a new tenant, whose name is Bec. She’s a massage therapist, a naturopath and all things good, and we’re looking forward to the new energy she will bring to the farm.

I’ve been told I should wrap this up, it’s getting way out of hand, so wrap I will.

It’s been too long between visits, so I’l endeavout to wander out into the backyard a little more frequently.

Much love to farmfans everywhere.

 Vxx

Once again, it’s been sometime since i have wandered out into mybigbackyard and taken stock of where we’re at, how the creatures big and small, four footed and two legged, beaked and billed, are faring.

I spoke of changes at Matiatia last time I wrote and it seems we are in a constant state of flux here, with some happenings causing sadness (see previous post) and others bringing joy and levity.

The family is settling into some sembelance of stability, with Zhane well ensconced now in the cottage, carnival lights and all, and Jax moving into the bails today. Deb arrives back from the UK in just a few days and Neha has returned to Oakland, on a mission to be back on the farm by June or July at the latest. We miss her, and look forward to her return.

We are enjoying living here as a home and family, now spread over the various dwellings on the property, without the place being part home, part business. It feels freer, knowing we can wander at will, play music loud if we want to, farm naked (if we want to), without frightening or disturbing guests. And we do all of that and more! There has been much productive activity, with me and my farmboy Zhane embarking upon lists of to do’s every day. Zhane is remarkable in her stamina for taking my mania for listmaking and tasking in her stride and remaining quite unflustered by it all…

Big news is Charlene’s new job! She’s working on a dairy! Rises at 4.45am for her first shift, comes home by half 9, and is off again for her second shift at around 3pm, home by 7. She’s usually quite aromatic and shit splattered by the time she arrives home but glowing and energised after milking 400 cows and so on… the farm she is working on is very lovely, green as green, on the banks of the richmond river, dewy in the early morning sunlight… the cows are pretty and docile, contented cows, not sad cows. Brian her boss is an excellent person. He works with a mixture of farming principles, including biodynamic principles, using chook manure instead of chemical fertilisers, feeding his cows lots of minerals, apple cider vinegar, epsom salts and so on. He knows every single cow and doesn’t treat his cows like milking machines, pushing the grains in order to get more milk gain from them. This can ultimately lead to "sad cow syndrome", where the cow’s system is very acid, and they become depressed and walk with dropped heads. He works alongside his dairy hands, talking 20 to the dozen about everything in the world and thinks charlene is the bee’s knees. All this is good. I went out wth her yesterday and took hundreds of photos of the dairy and the cows. Some lovely lovely pictures… i’ll post a couple here. It’s a great place to take photos, all that symmetry. Rows of legs, rows of shiny machines… Chatted to Brian her boss about minerals and weeds and honey locust trees which he has growing along the creek bank and about green mulch which he’s looking to turn to if his chicken manure supply runs out, which he predicts will happen because the price of chemical fertilisers have become so expensive that traditional farmers are looking for alternatives. He’s a 4th generation dairy farmer who has come from traditional farming roots and through his own learnings has moved towards using sustainable farming principles, so he’s interesting to speak to about things lke the soil and pasture improvement and animal rearing.

On the home front Zhane and I have been extremely busy in the gardens (in between rainfall) trying to get the grasses down to a manageable level. We’ve also been doing major gardening around the bails and caravan, in the secret garden, down around nick’s grave, around the clothesline and so on, all places we need to wander regularly. I’m hanging out to turn over the garden beds for the autumn planting… though we are still getting mountains of cucumbers, lots and lots of beans and the tomatoes and the greens never stop really. Pumpkins are so abundant that it’s a case again of two for the rats one for us… We’re thinking of making a sweet pumpkin pie (gluten free) with chocolate ganache lining the case… mmmmmmmm… And limes, my god limes to burn (but we’re squeezing them and freezing the juice for the lean times…).  We will probably preserve a whole lot, and then also make some baked goods and lime curd to sell. Lemons haven’t been ripening really due to lack of sun. It’s been a helluva season, no sun to speak of, so alot of the produce never really made it…

Our best task so far has been plumbing the drain for the outdoor bath in the bails. Michael already had it in place, so much of the hard work had already been done, but leveling it was a bitch, then digging out for the drain. We pruned many of the gingers and oter plants, weeded out tobacco plant and farmer’s friend, and it looks fantastic, and Jax is pleased to be able to use the bath, which has been a job going begging for such a long time… it really looks great…

the outdoor bathroom at the bails 

the plumbed drain 

no cheating, finding true level… 

level! 

We bought some new plants yesterday at the Lismore Carboot Market, which I love to go to, has everything from old playboy magazines to geese and ducks to vegetables and antiques and cool boots. We bought a crazy looking succulent that Zhane has put outside her new home, and a lemon myrtle tree and a native frangipani which is less perfect that the common frangipani. I’m keen on getting hold of some more native fruit bearing trees like finger limes…

I’ll be back again soon with more news. Perhaps about the acquisition of new animals… Stay tuned, farmyard friends…

xxV 

One of our dogs, well, a family member really, who we loved dearly, is no longer with us.

Nick (aka Nicholas Joseph Judy, Noodle Boy, Handsome Dan), 7 years old and so pretty, died a week ago and is buried here on the farm, in the orchard. We planted frangipani at his head and thyme at his feet.

Nick was beloved especially by Charlene, his Mum, and by Deb, his Mummatwo and is missed by Bucky, his big brother. Charlene and Deb picked up Nick when he was a pup, and he’s lived and travelled with them from city home to city home, from city to coast, and to his final home, here at Matiatia

He came into my life when he was 4, and I loved Nick too. He lived with me at the beach during his sea change phase, and loved to swim, thinking he could mix it with the dolphins way out in the river. He came running with me most mornings when I was living in the city down at Blackwattle Park, and more often than not ended up soaked after a flying leap from the esplanade into the water…

For Charlene, Nick was so important to her because she’s had some pretty rough times in her life. During the hardest times, when she had nothing at all, no money, food or electricity, she had Nick, and for a long time it was just her and Nick, and they shared what little she had.

Nick was a beautiful dog, handsome and energetic, strong and athletic, sweet natured and fiercely loyal. We loved him with all our hearts, and we will stay in our hearts forever.

mmmmmm.. milk 

part seal, part dog :: Ballina home away from home with Ammamamma and Uncle Dreggie

inner urban nick at the punks picnic, sydney park - photo by debra anthonisz

We love you Nicholas. Charlene, Deb and Virginia

written by V. Charlene will contribute nick stories when she feels able xx

In my previous post I mentioned that there were some changes happening at Matiatia, so I’ll try to bring you up to speed…

For those who came late in the day to this blog, brief backgrounder. Matiatia (formerly Mateatea) is this here farm where we live and do farm things and blog. Matiatia is a small holding 5 acre permaculture farm and guest facility owned by my friend Michael. I live here currently with my grrl Charlene.We have been living here for about 1 year, and I have been managing the guest facility during that time. For the full story see here.

We have a fairly fluid family/community life going on here, with lots of people coming and going. We like it like this. Our friend Neha is here from San Francisco at the moment. She will stay for a month. You can check her out at Ekphrastic Feminarca.

So… 

Recently, Michael and I decided to call it a day with the business. It’s no money maker and it’s wierd to have people who aren’t friends or family in your space all the time. It’s a psychic drain., on a permanent basis. They’re always lovely people, really interesting, aren’t your usual Byron tourist fodder, have eco interests often and so on. Still, I feel constrained by their presence.

So on February 11th, in just a few days, the business will close. The last guests are currently in the cottage and the last turnaround has been done. Then it will be just family at Matiatia and that is how it should be.

We (the farm family) will rent out the whole property, including the cottage (formerly guest house) and the bails, which is a renovated space which was formerly the original dairy. It’s a great space, self contained with the outdoor bathroom, but very, um… rustic living. It is a great space. I love the bails.

And so we are expanding, our small family, the core of which has been Charlene and I, this small family in which dogs outnumber humans, will be expanding our number to 5 and occasionally 6.

Deb, frequent commenter on the backyard, our other limb, and founder of the Bring Tippi Home Front will be coming back from the UK at the end of February and taking up residence in her old room, reuniting with her dog Bucky and resuming house duties .

 
Deb (left) and Charlene (right) photo by tom anthonisz

In the cottage our Zhane,special friend, farmboy and tree changer from the Big Smoke (that’s Sydney…) will be living. She will come to Matiatia to be herself and paint and stretch her wings (which are usually hidden beneath her clothes).

Zhane outside the toilets of the Lismore Showgrounds looking cruisy

In the bails will be Jax, a local writer who will write!

Neha will make regular visits in preparation (we hope) for eventually moving out here permanently.

neha on the verandah

In other exciting news, I am about to become farm housewife to a dairy farmer! Yes, Charlene just scored herself a job on a local BIODYNAMIC (!) dairy farm. This couldn’t be more perfect for her. She loves cows, and they are a sustainable, organic, eco friendly, animal friendly ethical family business. They loved Charlene and are prepared to fully train her based on her passion for the job. This is great news for a family that has been living a subsitence level existence for quite a while now.

I broke the mower, perhaps not unfixably but i have to say that mower was everything to me. That mower was my life and today I felt that I could mow forever. I do feel remarkably tired at this juncture, however, and, while I am sure there was more to say, many more important tidbits of information to pass on, I am simply too tired.  

Some words and some pictures should suffice for the day.

Love country style Vxx 

Mamma chook died this morning, at about 3am.

Mamma was a lovely black and white bantam, a stalwart broody who hatched just about every chook on this farm. After her last brood was hatched she was quite frail. I takes alot out of a hen to sit for so long with such fierce dedication. They are very very protective of the clutch of eggs and the chickens once they are hatched. Mamma looked wild and was quite the devil during the period of sitting and once the little brood was hatched she never really assimmilated back into the flock. She was bottom chook, so had to fight for every scrap of food and was jumped on by George (macho patriarch of the flock) every five minutes with lots of pecking out of feathers and mating carry on to boost George’s frail ego. Mamma submitted but became very frightened. So we moved her out to another pen where she lived with the ducks for a while, but never really fully recovered. I think this constant rain finally did her in. She was skin and bone poor love. We had her in our room in a warm box for the last couple of days, but she died this mornng. She will fertilise the corn patch and provide food for us in the cycle of life that is the farm.
 
Mamma, we miss your little bantam ways and your fierce mothering love.

xxV 

Things have returned to some semblance of normalcy here on the farm. Farmgrrl - partner in all things green has returned from the snowy UK with renewed vigour and love for all creatures big and small, which is great since we currently have animals of all sizes in the menagerie.

All growing madly. The pastures are dangerous, one needs a compass to navigate. The zucchinis, as Ali the urban gardening glitter faerie mentioned, simply exploded with hugeness. Cucumbers have been pickled and salad’ed and tied up in lovely bondaged installation works and are currently kitchen decor before they find new homes in jars or stomachs or in the house of my sister. Tomatoes are being lovely, providing a bounty of round and pleated varieties daily. Greens are offering leaves for lunch. My corn patch produced! yes! However, the formula seems to be 1 for me, 2 for the rats. The rats are growing, there’s no doubt, judging by the size of the hole eaten in the door as they tried to gain entry one night. perhaps they are too fat to fit through the easy access holes in the floor now? Neha, our visiting international, made a lovely corn chowder the other night with the harvest. We have a great variety which has pink silk. Sweet pink ponytails hanging amongst the green… There is more to harvest, but almost time now to turn the corn stalks into mulch and begin the next planting…

kernels intact

part of the harvest 

I almost forgot the pumpkins… yes, masses of them, butternuts and jap… I’m searching for the watermelons in the pumpkin jungle… they’re in there somewhere!

lovely pumpkins 

Charlene was talking about the calves this afternoon, Frenchie (our Charolais) and Little Grrl (Jersey), who are just beautiful, beautiful… They are looking incredible. For once there’s enough, an overabundance of pasture for them to graze, and they eat all day and all night and it’s like the magic pasture… it never seems to disappear… Hinimoa is loking incredible also… We really need Tippi to come home to assist with the grazing. I’m loathe to slash such lushness… the weeds are growng in equal proportion to the pasture, but as previous posts attest, me and weeds have a nascent relationship and i’m entirely unsure how to treat them in this case…

Anyway, weeds aside, Charlene and I were talking about how lovely it is to be able to hand rear animals, how perfect they are, perfect creatures, and how their natures are shaped by their contact with humans, and if they must be farmed, then this is the only way we could imagine doing it.

We talked about our favorite breed of cows and i think decided that we loved the Belted Galloway the best, and would have a paddock full of Santa Gertrudis, Charolais, Angus with a Friesian X Jersey on the side if we had a place of our own. Still, I’m thinking always and alot about all aspects of farmng and how to farm hard hoofed animals witout damaging theenvironment. I know little about this.

We have also poultry at all stages of growth, from tiny fluffy chickens to teenage chickens and ols lady hens who are probably into their last lay. Our baby muscovy ducks grow at an incredible rate, and have adult feathers now, all sheeny greeny black and kind of dark violet. The ducks all have a large fenced run now down by the orchard, which is perfect. They still have enough room to freerange but not where the chooks and goat and cows eat and drink. Ducks love to foul the water, every available puddle or pond… so that there is no clean drinking water left for the chooks and other animals. They are water fiends! So this solution is perfect… all animals are happy…

lunch 

‘Night, lovelies… see you shortly with something wild… Vxx

So I’ve been drowning, here, for weeks. Everything has become fungal. There are mushrooms growing on all surfaces, clusters of miniature hats bursting out of stumps, light harvesting fungi that glow in the dark, an extraordinary fleshy blood red rectangular fungus, meaty stinky fungi, varieties of brown and black and white mushrooms, a phallic fungus with a bright yellow tip that burst out of what seemed to be an eyeball, blue stemmed mushrooms that grow on cow manure and bring joy to faeries. All possible shapes sizes colors textures of mushrooms have exploded into the world during the rain to end all rains. The sun has been missing in action until today, and I shall post some pictures of actual sunlight so i can look at them tomorrow if the sun disappears again.

Blue skies this afternoon

Every morning for weeks on end I have woken to a downpour. The grass is knee high and blindingly green. The hills for as far as the eye can see look like an emerald carpet all lush and springy. We haven’t enough cows to keep it down, since Tippi ran away to join the herd next door. That’s a short story I shall flesh out in a moment.

gingers and cannas off the side verandah 

It was the season of ritual festivities that stole me away from the Backyard. I shall give a sketchy overview of the happenings during the summer of sog, which i shared with extended family members and people i had never met but turned out to be most excellent individuals, and intrepid campers all…

sunshine shadows and tongues

Lismore and surrounds is a popular destination for inner urban folk making the annual pilgrimage north looking for an experience of Difference, a change from Wednesday night at the Sly, an alternative to the slick Sydney parties and flesh parades, a chance to slough off the inner urban skin and breathe a little easier, to perhaps find joy peeking it’s cap out of the tall grasses, to jump into a fresh waterhole and dry off naked on a rock in the middle of nowhere. Then there’s Tropical Fruits, the regional queer party of the year, this year held in a bog (formerly the Lismore Showgrounds) and latterly completely underwater as the floodwaters rose to claim parts of Lismore… partygoers attended in fabulous costumes and gumboots.

geometry in sunshine 

I invited those making the annual pilgrimage to pitch a tent here at Matiatia, and thus Camp Camp came into being. The rain began last year, days before the travellers embarked upon the road trip, and seems to have stopped this afternoon. Guests arrived and left in the pouring rain, and all stayed longer than anticipated, which was a great thing. Intrepid campers all, they didn’t whimper at the door as the rain lashed the farm for weeks, but each bedtime took torch in hand, and, with mud sucking at their shoes, sloshed off to their tents and slept the sleep of the righteous, sometimes with small drips splashing on their faces in the night.

While some level of cabin fever was experienced by all, in the main the rain provided an opportunity for engaging in all manner of damp activites. Swimming in the local waterhole in the middle of the flood was exhilarating, naked animal feeding with gumboots was hilarious and necessary (changes of clothes and use of the dryer numerous times a day was otherwise unavoidable), gardening in the perpetual deluge was handled enthusiastically by our very own urban gardening glitter faerie (who did a sterling job of Camp Camp updates, complete with great photos of activities and wildlife…) ably assisted by Sarah, who was the engineer of the hay feeder pyramid earlier in the year, brave campers assisted me with the removal of rotting and flooded pet bedding which had begun to ferment in a warm gaseous choking ammonia haze, there was hot apron action with baking by all using the season’s overabundance of zucchinis which eventually exploded in their patch in the excessive wetness, cucumbers were pickled and juiced and sliced and diced for all manner of consumables and all done with muddy chic, style and flair and dressups and morning yoga and evening cocktails and naked dancing in the rain…

So much more happened, recreational activites which are beyond the scope of this blog to record, but all were faithfully documented by the skilled in house photographers, and blogged in other locations. We have thousands of images captured during the flood of 07/08. For pictures of the flood itself, check out the next post.

There were a couple of losses to the rain. Three of the clutch of 7 baby chicks that hatched unexpectedly beneath a bush drowned in small puddles and rivers inside the chook run, since mamma was opposed to keeping them dry in any kind of structure we created for her…

One other animal death occurred which I will record at a later date, which I feel very sad about.

There was a hopefully temporary loss also, as Tippi, daughter of the dexter cow Hinimoa escaped by means fair or foul, we cannot say. She has joined the herd belonging to the farmer next door, and despite repeated attempts to call her home, and luring her with buckets and hay, she simply takes our offerings, shakes her horns at us and heads off to join her newly acquired family. We have lost her to the herd. She may well have been on heat, jumped a compromised fence and with all this rain, it’s been hard to track her down, but the herd comes to visit down by our fenceline in the afternoons, and despite her being so close to home, she is so far away from us. Hinimoa has been pining i think, and often calls Tippi from the fenceline in the afternoons. A visit to the farmer is in order, I guess… though I’d like to think that Tippi would just come home to us…

All in all I think the Camp Camp experience was something magical and hopefully something exraordinary for those who stayed and stayed and went away and came back and went away back to their Sydney lives promising to come back again. A window opening, to show a different view.

I’ll be back soon, with regular backyard reports…

In the meantime, here are pictures of actual sunshine…

 the orange tree

zhane and tashi 

farmboy zhane 

jimmyjack (she was in the sunshine, so makes it into this set of pics)

much love, farmgrrl V  xx

onion 

zucchini 

the patch 

corn is going well… 

charlene made me do it 

xxV