Fruit Trees and Farm Signs

We recently started a new fruit tree orchard. It’s always good fun going to the plant nursery to select new plants for the garden. John and I bought bare rooted fruit trees, which are in abundance here just before Spring. We ended up with Peaches, Apricots, Nectarines, Cherries, Pears, Green Gages (which are a European Plum more suitable to colder weather) and two Heritage Apples. We also picked up Raspberry canes, Blueberry bushes and English Gooseberries. We left the shop with arms full of plants and a lot less in the wallet. Although they may be expensive at the time fruit trees are an investment of lovely homegrown fresh fruit for many years to come. There’s nothing nicer than standing under a fruit tree munching into a homegrown piece of fruit. Every day I wander down to look at all the new shoots and flowers appearing on these new trees and give them words of encouragement…grow…grow…grow.

One of our new Peach trees.

                                                                             

Our big old fruit trees which were already here when we arrived are hopefully going to be the target for the birds etc that want to snack on some fruit. These trees are big and tall so we are hoping they will stand out more for the critters to home in on so they can leave our new trees alone. Well you can only hope. There are two giant Cherry trees, a very large Pear, an old Nectarine and three good producing Apple trees. They all produced lovely fruit last season and we were so excited to taste homegrown fruit again after many years of buying store bought. Our new orchard will also be where we will grow our Vegetables. Next job on the agenda is to fence the area with vermin proof wire to keep out all those little bunnies and things that visit at night.

Beautiful Cherry blossoms on one of our old Cherry trees.

                                                                              

There’s more news on the farm front also. We now have a farm sign with our farm name on it.  Last week I picked up John’s surprise present from the Woodcraft Guild in Ulverstone. If you are ever in Ulverstone go in and have a look at their wonderful handcrafted woodwork it’s just beautiful.  I asked them if they could make me a sign and they did a great job. It’s made out of a lovely natural bit of Huon Pine with our name spelt out in black letters. Did you know that Huon Pine is one of the longest living and slowest growing plants in the world and apparently it can grow to an age of 3000 years or more? I feel honoured to have a piece of this beautiful Tassie timber as our sign. I wonder how old it is. Finding the right place to display it and putting it up is another job to add to the list.

Our new Farm Sign waiting to be put up.

                                                                                  

It’s so nice to have Spring here again. We survived our first Tassie Winter with no problems and didn’t even find it extremely cold. Next Winter we will have our wood stove installed and we will also have a lovely wood heater in the lounge room so things will be even cosier. Well all that’s left to say is roll on Summer and stone fruit season, yum can’t wait.

All Hail The Gumboot

Pondering how nice Gumboots can be.

                                                                              

We’ve been living in our Gumboots since the start of Winter and probably won’t be out of them until Summer arrives and the last of the mud disappears. Then I’ll replace my good old Gummies with my Blunnies unless it rains some more. They have saved me from many a misplaced footstep in pig, cow, goose or chook poo. Winter is the rainy season here in Tassie and if it wasn’t for the Gumboot I don’t know what we’d be wearing in all the mud that gets around the farm during this time.

Gumboots sitting proud along with other family footwear.

                                                                           

Have you ever wondered who invented this little miracle of the footwear family? Well they say the Duke of Wellington asked his shoemaker to modify the 18^th century Hessian boot. The new boot was made in soft calfskin leather and was cut to fit more closely around the leg. Then in 1852 Hiram Hutchinson met Charles Goodyear who had just invented the vulcanisation process for rubber. Goodyear decided to make tyres and Hutchinson bought the patent to make footwear. The all-waterproof Wellington type rubber boot was born and an instant success as farmers were able to come back home from working in the paddocks with clean dry feet. We love Gumboots so much they’ve even written poems about them. Here’s one I came across that’s rather good.

It can get a bit muddy around the place.

                                                                           

Hail unto the Gumboot Mighty.

Hail unto the Gumboot Mighty;

Yea who keeps my socks a-whitey,

Who when I tramp through muck and slosh

Keep dry the feet of McIntosh

In Summer months my love for you

Somewhat wavers, through and through

Until it rains but you provide

A place for Huntsmen to reside.

The dust collects upon your casing

“Till the time occurs for chasing

Slugs and snails and creepy crawlies

Which under you will suffer, surely.

Alas they stand but little chance;

Upon their bodies I will prance!

In the rain and mud and drought

If not for you, I’d be without.

Hail unto the Gumboot mighty

Yea who keeps my socks a-whitey.

By Tahlia McIntosh. 2005.

There are also songs about them. There’s one by John Clark “If It weren’t for your Gumboots” sung by his alter ego Fred Dagg.  You Tube link if you’re interested in listening:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5tAWwqKNI7g&feature=related

Now days there’s not just the humble black Gumboot for Women, there’s all sorts of colours and patterns to choose from. I think they are great and love seeing all the different types around in the shops. So far there’s still only black and sometimes a dark green for Men but I don’t think they mind besides I don’t think I’d be able to take any man seriously if he was standing in a paddock with colourful Gumboots on. Our Gumboots have uses away from the farm as well. If it’s been raining when we go to a clearing sale or to the sale yards the Gummies are put into the boot of the car to be put on when we get there. A must have item is a garbage bag so you can put the mucky, dirty, mud dripping off the bottom pairs of Gumboots in to protect the carpet in the boot.

  

Yes it was definitely Gumboot weather back in January.

                                                                            

One thing they are not so good at is protecting your feet when stock stand on your toes but if you really want to go all out there is a steel cap model. Wow the wonders of Gumboot design. So we tramp through almost knee-deep mud knowing that our feet are safe and sound inside our Gumboots. When we take them off to go inside the house after a hard day in the paddock our socks are still clean and mud free. So thank you Gumboots and Hail to Thee.

Birds of a feather.

As the days lengthened and the temperature climbs, the geese are starting to pair up in preparation for breeding. About a month ago the geese changed from a harmonious contented gaggle into a fractious, noisy, bad-tempered rabble. We have one older pair that have successfully raised goslings before and they maintain a quiet dignified presence, aloof from all the squabbling. 

As the geese start nesting a problem arises for a goose  – where to nest. Our geese seem to have solved this problem with the simple philosophy of making their nest anywhere they see a chook laying. 

There's room in my nest for two.

Can't a girl get a little privacy?

 We now have co-nesting pilgrims, two pilgrims laying and sharing one nest, another pilgrim that has crammed herself into one chooks nesting boxes and one of the crossbred females has taken over the corner of the chook pen where we previously collected chook eggs every day. At this stage none have showed any interested in nesting in the goose pen or any of the goose nesting boxes.

With the longer days and warmer weather the chooks have upped their laying rate to a regular four or five eggs a day. Not bad for five free-range chooks. We are struggling to use that many eggs and they are starting build up in the cupboard.

Our chooks seem to enjoy the company of the saddleback pigs. They feed and roost in their own pen but during the day they are likely to be found keeping company with the three pigs. They have worked out that the pickings are pretty good if you follow behind the pigs when they’re rooting up the grass. Lots of worms and other goodies just lying there for the taking.

What is it with chooks? Provide them with the best in nesting boxes and instead they lay in their own special spots. One has made a nest on top of the hay bales, another has chosen the corner of their stable, one uses the nesting boxes and one lays eggs in the saddlebacks hay bed. This would seem a strange somewhat hazardous place to make a nest but, she’s black and white, they’re black and white – a little larger admittedly but who knows to a chook. 

One nest that the geese wont get.

The valley the sun forgot.

I have a confession to make; I lied on my census form. When coming to the religion question, I ticked no religion but that is no longer true; after the last four weeks I have discovered that I am a devotee of Ra the sun god. 

The weather has been cloudy and foggy with lots of rain, cloudy and foggy with a little rain or cloudy and foggy with no rain. Everything is wet, the pigs walk through four inches of mud as they come and go from the stables, the chooks and geese have puddled the ground where they stand and wait for us every evening and the garage is full of wet clothes.  The days are getting longer, spring is coming but the sun stays hidden. Some days seem to hold a glimmer of hope for the sun to break through but they come to naught. When I got up this morning I was stunned –light high cloud and no fog. Was the sun to reappear today? No such luck, by eight o’clock the fog had descended like a wet blanket over the valley.

I have heard that some historical evidence points to the suspicion that some time in the distant past the sun may have illuminated the valley and the people basked in the warmth. Doesn’t seem likely.

Must go now. I have to build a temple and make a sacrifice to Ra the Sun God and coax him into appearance.

A thousand feet down we are lost in the fog.

Tamworth Pigs

“I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” 
Winston Churchill.

.

We have just picked up some more pigs, four registered Tamworths, three sows and a boar. They travelled over from Victoria and these will form the nucleus of our second breeding herd. We met the truck at Sulphur Creek and bought them home in our trailer. It was not a great introduction to Tasmania; the wind was strong enough to blow the fleas off a dog’s arse, and cold driving rain. These pigs were originally due to arrive six or seven weeks ago but a combination of bad weather, difficulties with transport and me disappearing back to Australia for work put them on hold for a little while. They are about 9 months old and in pig so we should have our first piglets ready for Christmas dinner. Suckling pig. Yummy - should go well with goose. (just kidding)

Cold and wet

In comparison to our robust boisterous Saddlebacks, the Tamworths could almost be described as delicate. They have a very long straight snout and narrow head with a lean body.  They are an orange-gold colour and like most original breeds they are excellent foragers and really require an outdoor environment. The boar is “Fergal”, a good Irish name befitting a pig with Irish ancestry, and I have no doubt the sows will be named in turn. Comes back to the unwritten law – you can’t eat any animal that has a name.

Leven River Farm must be a bit of a culture shock for these pigs, they have been raised indoors in a shed, drinking from a nipple, feeding from an automatic chute, never wallowing in the mud or rooting through the grass. They have taken to their new life with gusto, lying in the grass, ripping up paddock and generally having a good time. They are very quiet and reserved, nowhere near as vocal or boisterous as our Saddlebacks but I am sure that will change as they settle in and feel more at home. 

Exploring

I have noticed that people who keep rare breeds have a real passion for their animals and their welfare. I think this comes from the fact that the prime motivation for keeping rare breeds is never money; these breeds are rare because they failed that critical test of highest possible economic returns. There are plenty of animals that grow quicker, breed more prolifically and have better feed conversion ratios. I think people persist because they appreciate the intrinsic value of these old breeds. Me - I just like pigs.

Getting to know the neighbours.

The Tamworth pig breed originated in Sir Robert Peel's Drayton Manor Estate at Tamworth, Staffordshire, after the existing herd was interbred with pigs from Ireland known as 'Irish Grazers', that Peel had seen in Ireland in 1809. The breed appears among the least interbred with non-European breeds, and therefore one of the closest to the original European forest swine. They are a baconer pig and have a much leaner carcass than the Wessex Saddleback. They typically have small litters of six to ten piglets, which limits their appeal to commercial producers. They are very good mothers with a very high piglet survival rate.

We have had some difficulty in locating an unrelated boar for our saddleback sows, which is compounded by the fact that the bloodlines of our sows are clouded in some mystery. They are Dominator sired with some conjecture on the dam. I was thinking of joining them with the Tamworth boar but have been offered a suitably unrelated registered Wessex Saddleback boar in Victoria.

The new boar is of a Pilot- Beatrice bloodline and we have already christened him Horatio. I don’t know why but it just seems a fitting name for a saddleback boar.   He was going to travel over with the Tamworths but heavy rain around Gippsland has delayed his arrival for a couple of weeks.  Next a couple of registered Wessex Saddleback sows and our pig herd will be complete. Or maybe not; did I just hear a whisper about some Large Blacks that may be looking for a new home?

Wallaby Fencing

We have completed wallaby fencing our top boundary. Our farm was the final link in a fence stretching for many kilometres that separates valuable pasture from the bush and forestry that occupies the high country to our west.

Wallaby Fencing. The final link.

The wallabies had been pouring in from the bush at night and stripping large areas of our top paddock bare. The case for wallaby fencing was overwhelming. Trials in four areas of Tasmania have defined the losses of farm animal productivity due to competing native animals. These trials showed that properly installed wallaby proof fencing is effective and over 35% more livestock can be carried.

The loss of productivity on unfenced pastures was again confirmed in a recent University of Tasmania study. It concluded that wildlife were taking 40% of available grazing on the 2100-hectare property. Exclusion fencing trials with wallaby wire again proved to be very effective in keeping wallabies from pasture.

Wallaby fencing is not a silver bullet; it requires regular inspections and maintenance to prevent wallabies coming through under the fence. One only has to look at the bush side of our fence to appreciate the number of wallabies coming out at night looking for an easy feed.

Wallabies are churning the soil to slush as they try to get an easy feed.

Of course Tasmania has a dark side, another option to control native animals, an option that is outlawed in the rest of Australia and the entire civilised world.

1080 poison.

Supporters of 1080 continually regurgitate the oft-quoted myth about the cost of wallaby fencing being prohibitively expensive for Tasmanian producers. This is a nonsense argument. The high carrying capacity of Tasmanian pastoral land with stocking rates sometimes in excess of one beast to the acre means that the cost of fencing per livestock unit is some of the cheapest in Australia. Lazy incompetent property management is instead propped up with publicly subsidised 1080 poison.

That anyone could still support the use of 1080 poison to control native animals such as the Bennett's Wallaby, Pademelons and Possums given the effective alternatives defies belief. The fact that this practice is still legal is proof enough that Tasmanian politicians are morally and ethically bankrupt.

Nothing that Tasmanians don’t already know.

How Not To Fix A Fence.

For the last few weeks I’ve been keeping an eye on one particular cow that has taken a fancy to sticking her head through the fence on the roadside to eat the longer grass. Well they do say, “The grass is always greener”.  I’ve been crossing my fingers she didn’t push right through and get on to the road. I did do a fence check and was surprised at how much fence has been bent and broken here and there. I’ve been doing a head count every day to make sure they are all still there in the paddock. With John being away and due back soon thank goodness, it’s only me on deck and I’m definitely no fencer. So it had to happen didn’t it, yes that’s right she got out. Luckily I just happened to look out of the window at the right time. There she was munching her way through the grass. I mean it’s not like there’s no grass in the paddock.

Oh yes a nice zigzag pattern there.

                                                                             

So I sprinted out the door and over to her all the while thinking please don’t let any cars come along and how am I going to get her back in by myself. I opened the gate and was just about to go around behind her when one of the locals came along and thankfully he helped me get her back in.  As it was she jumped straight through the fence in the exact spot where she had got out. Just as she got back in the School bus came along, wow that was close.  I then raced back to the shed to gather up anything I could get my hands on to try and temporarily fix the problem. What I grabbed was a bundle of rope and strapping. Right that’ll do fine I thought. Back I go to do some nice zigzag patterns along and through the wire on the fence. Every time a car came along I hung my head in complete embarrassment and wondered what they thought when they saw me doing this totally dodgy looking fencing job. So far it has served its purpose and has kept her in the paddock. A more permanent solution is on it’s way very soon.  Michelle.

Definately how not to fix a fence.

                                                                            

Oh Yeah. We love paddock life.

Prada jumping for joy.

                                                                           

You get a rush of happiness and warm fuzzy feelings to see your farm animals running free range in the paddocks enjoying life.  None of the horror of sow stalls, intensive farming or battery hens here. It always makes me sad to think of these practices still being carried out. 

Some of our Girls.

                                                                                  

Our cattle have settled in very nicely they don’t have to move very far to get a feed there’s plenty of grass in the paddock. So far they’ve only been wandering around half the paddock they haven’t been right up to the top yet. It’s good to be able to look out of the kitchen windows and see them getting on with their daily business of eating resting eating resting etc.  These girls are some of the quietest cattle I’ve seen. I like to go and talk to them mostly every day. I sit down and wait for them to come up to me and they do one by one, they can’t resist coming over to look at me. Anyone arriving on the scene would probably wonder at this mad woman sitting down in a paddock having a one-way conversation with cows. We said all along we wanted something other than Black Angus cattle because all around us are either Angus or black and white Friesian/Holstein dairy cattle. A bit of variety is nice I think besides we do like the Hereford breed. I tell people jokingly we bought them because they are the colours of Queensland’s Footy team, go the mighty Maroons. 

The pigs following John to see what he's up to.

                                                                                  

The pigs are happily bulldozing up the paddock during the day and still sleeping all in a row on their comfy straw bed at night. We got hold of some new pig feed recently, which they eat, with gusto. It’s a mix of grains, Cadbury chocolate and different coloured soft lollies that look suspiciously like lolly snakes cut up in bits. Oh my God it smells so good no wonder the pigs love it. When I’m feeding them I always feel like sticking my head in the container and chomping it all up. It’s quite a dry feed so we mix it with water. The first time we fed it to them we put it straight in their feed container dry and it flew everywhere when they breathed on it and the pigs were coughing and choking on it in their haste to get it eaten. It was a case of eat, run to get a drink, eat and run to get a drink. That’s when we realised it was way too dry a mix to give it to them like that. So now mixed with water it just slops into their feed container I have to be quick to get it in there because their heads get in the way and they end up wearing it.  They love nothing better than strolling around the paddock digging where they please and having a bit of a game with each other. Ahh yes that’s what I like to see more contented and satisfied animals. 

Our geese on the dam.

                                                                                

Now onto our feathered friends on the farm. The geese do their usual thing during the day they graze around the paddock interspersed with visits to the dam for a swim and a quick preen. They are all looking beautifully plump and in top condition and why wouldn’t they be with a whole paddock to graze in and some wheat at evening feed time. Our new females have finally learnt that wheat is good to eat they use to just look at the others eating it. Now they get in there and eat it quickly like the rest, if they don’t they will miss out.  The geese are funny to watch; their heads go a hundred miles an hour hoovering up the wheat. All you can hear is the rat-a-tat-tat of 15 beaks on the feed trays.  The chooks are enjoying their paddock life as well. Wandering around eating plenty of worms bugs and grass and next it’s off to have a dirt bath in the nicely ploughed up area.  Then there are three hens who like hanging with the pigs. I think they have cottoned on to the fact that the pigs root up the ground and that’s where they’ll find the nice juicy worms etc. or maybe they just want some porker company who knows. We still only have two hens laying I’m hoping the others will start soon although I think Winter is a bit of a down time for egg laying. Just the two laying seems to be enough eggs for us to handle at the moment anyway.    Michelle.

The chooks love to follow me around.

                                                                              

A Few Good Heifers

Our little farm has grown some more as it was time to finally get some cattle. After waiting almost twelve months for the prices to come down, we gave up and decided to just buy some. We went to the Quoiba store cattle sale with very well defined objectives – anything except Black Angus. Almost all the cattle in the valley are either Friesian dairy cows or Black Angus and I just wanted something different. That way they will be easy to recognise if they get out. 

Quioba sale yards

We bought some cattle, sixteen Hereford heifers. Seven are twenty months old and ready to join and the rest are twelve to fourteen months old with a little growing still to do. They are all a little light in condition but we have plenty of feed to put them right. We got them at the Quoiba sale on Friday and unloaded them into the cattle yards just after dark that evening. Saturday morning we drenched them for worms and other parasites and back into a holding paddock, today they go out to their home paddock. In a month or two when they have gained some weight we will buy a Hereford Bull to put with them. In a couple of years we should have a nice little herd on the farm. The gestation of a cow is 285 days so nothing is going to happen in a hurry. 

Some of our Cattle waiting for the frost to lift.

Just hangin around.

Where have all the windmills gone.

I am now after a windmill and high tank to replace the electric pump on the Leven River that supplies the house and troughs with water. Wind is the greatest natural source of energy and it is freely available day and night. No level of government has yet worked out how to charge for the wind, though I have no doubt they would if they could only work out how.

A farm should always have a windmill but here in Tasmania they are about as common as hens teeth.

At Varna we had three windmills, pumping water in an endless cycle. All windmills, regardless of brand shared some common endearing features. The wooden platform just below the head rots after about ten years exposure to the sun and rain and is never replaced. To stand on an old platform is to court a speedy and somewhat painful descent however the narrow iron supports can always be relied on to safely bear your weight. The top five feet of the tower is always greasy and treacherously slippery from the slow oil leaks accumulated over decades of use.

Jimmys Bore

Jimmys Bore had a 21 foot Southern Cross standing on a 50 foot three legged tower. This pumped up water from 400 feet underground for stock. Every six months Michelle and I had to pull the twenty lengths of 4 inch casing to remove the hard white sodic deposits that would slowly choke the pump.    

Salty Bore

Salty Bore had a 20foot D pattern Comet on a 45 foot four legged tower. The water in this bore was so salty it was of marginal value. Stock would drink it but only if they had no other option.

House mill.

The house had a 12 foot mill on a 25 foot tower that pumped water from the dam up to the high tank that supplied the house. It almost looked like any other 12 foot C pattern Comet but the name “Sidney Williams and Company” proudly cast in iron revealed its age. It had stood on the dam bank since some time prior to 1912 and is likely to be there yet, still reliably pumping water as it has done for all the past century. Sidney Williams produced windmills from1879 in Rockhampton under the Sidney Williams & Company brand, only introduced the famous Comet name in 1912. These are simple, reliable, direct action mills running in Spotted Gum bearings. If the oil pot is topped up every couple of years and the wicks replaced every ten or twenty years, the wooden bearings last indefinitely. The C and D pattern Comets are still in production, a design almost unchanged in over a hundred years. Workplace health and safety requirements have led to a metal platform replacing the wooden one, ladder platforms, and other changes to the tower to try to make them idiot proof.

A completely pointless exercise.

One of the immutable laws of physics tell us that if you make something idiot proof the only certain outcome is a  bigger idiot. The safest person up a windmill is a frightened one. Completely bloody useless but perfectly safe. With both legs and both arms wrapped through the tower, you would need a crowbar to prise them loose.

Windmills are an inseparable part of the heritage of the bush. They are a tangible link between the past and the future where windmills will continue to pump water through this century and the next.

As Winter Draws Near

A frosty early morning.

Yep a bit cold.

Yep it’s definitely getting colder. Well so it should be it’s only six weeks until the Winter Solstice. Ah yes the shortest day of the year. After that’s over every day is just that bit longer again. The nights have been quiet cold especially those clear no cloud nights we’ve been having lately. These nights are fantastic star watching nights if you can stand being in the cold outside while the steam rises out of your nose and mouth. So many stars to see in the sky down here in Tassie and the Milky Way is just extraordinary. No light pollution in this clear no smog sky. The moon is waxing beautifully and is at its half way stage.

My front garden wearing a coat of white.

We are only 11 days into May and we’ve had five frosts so far and two very heavy ones, with everything facing south and in the shade still very white at 10 am. These are just a taste of more to come as we roll on into Winter. I do love the distinct change of Seasons down here. It’s such a nice change from the humdrum of the same; never vary much (only gets hotter and more humid) temperatures in North Queensland. The Autumn display of trees has been beautiful. Wherever I drive it’s a feast for the eyes, all those tones of red, copper and yellow.

I wonder how the animals like the colder nights. They are being babied with nice fresh dry hay on their beds to snuggle up into. The pigs still sleep three in a row like they use to when they were piglets, they’re so cute to watch. The chooks have finally learnt to roost I still have a bed of hay in there just in case they want to lie on it. We have two hens laying now the others can’t be all that far behind. One lays in a nesting box and the other one has a spot in the long grass where she’s made a nice little nest. Thank goodness she lays in the same spot every time. The Geese still go in to their pen at night to sleep on their nice bed of hay. We have fifteen now after we picked up two females from Deloraine way. So there you have a bunch of nicely spoilt animals. I’m sure they appreciate it.

As for us keeping warm, well we are waiting on our wood stove to come from the UK. It will warm up the kitchen and dinning area and we are putting in a wood heater to warm up the lounge and office area of the house. Nothing like a roaring fire to keep you warm. John and I use to sit in front of the old wood stove we had on “Varna” of a Winters night and we would read a book or I would knit. We didn’t have TV that far out in the bush at that time, besides we only had 32volt power. Amazing what you can do without if you don’t have it. The heat from the stove warmed our poddy lambs and kangaroo as well. They loved standing right up near it to keep warm.

One of the chooks checking out the frost.

The garden isn’t doing much at this time of the year. Some of the bulbs have started to pop their heads up they’ll make a nice display in Spring. It’s time for the plants to take a rest and hide from the cold just like we will be doing on some of those very cold days and nights to come.

Michelle

Find me if you can.

Find me if you can.

One of our Light Sussex chooks has started to lay, about 6 eggs a week. The rest shouldn't be too far behind. Initially she laid one a day in the nesting boxes but after a week or so the flow of eggs dried up. Yes, we had progressed from collecting the eggs to find the eggs if you can. She had made her own nest, well camouflaged in the long grass. 

Three eggs

The accommodation is just not up to standard.

We bought another pair of pilgrim goose. 

More for the gaggle

We now have four pilgrim females, five pilgrim ganders, three cross-bred females and a further three young  juvenile cross-bred ganders. The three young cross-bred ganders are destined for the pot someday. The plan was to have one for Easter dinner however he received a last minute reprieve. I had everything ready- almost. I had no trouble catching the gander, these are so quiet you can just pick them up, carried him over to the chopping block where the cleaver was waiting, and the gander just lay there obligingly, with his neck outstretched on the block. He was so peaceful and trusting I just couldn't do it. I must be getting soft, I grew up in an era where killing animals to eat was just one more routine job. These bloody geese are just too quiet.

Apples aint just Apples

We have solved the mystery surrounding the varieties of the three large old overgrown apple trees in the garden.  The solution, like all good solutions, was simple, ask the man who planted them all those years ago. 

Cox’s Orange Pippin. 

This is my favourite, a smaller crisp apple with exceptional flavour at its best when picked fully ripe straight from the tree. This is widely regarded as the classic English apple, often regarded as the finest of all apples and remains unsurpassed for its richness and complexity of flavour. This is the benchmark against which all others are measured.

This winter we will definitely be planting some more Cox’s Orange Pippins.

Cox's Orange Pippin

 Mutsu

A native of Japan the Mutsu is a large golden apple with a crisp white flesh, good flavour, lots of juice and is one of a small number of varieties which really is dual purpose - both for eating fresh and cooking. This is my second preference after the Cox’s Orange Pippin. The Mutsu is highly susceptible to the disease Blister Spot. The disease is caused by a bacterium that thrives in a wet cool summer- just like we have had. About 70% of the apples have the characteristic black rotting spots so these go straight to the pigs.

Our Mutsu is such a prolific bearer, even the possums can’t seem to make much impression.   

Mutsu

And last of all is a Red Delicious. Quite a nice apple eaten straight off the tree, it is probably the least suited to the home garden as its fruit all seem to ripen at the same time.

This is in contrast to the Mutsu and the Cox’s Orange Pippin, which continually ripen fruit over a 2-month period. 

Red Delicious

When eaten straight from the tree all of these apples are far superior to the supermarket varieties. It seems fresh really is best.

Rayburn Royal

We have ordered a Rayburn Royal slow combustion wood stove for the farm. I priced them locally and compared the retail price in the UK – huge difference. Thanks Gerry Harvey for pointing out how much cheaper it is to purchase from overseas.  I ordered one in British racing green straight from the UK.  I was talking to the supplier last night and it is due in Australia in 33 days. Allowing a couple of weeks to clear customs, we should have it installed before the dead of winter. This will also heat our hot water system so I am expecting a large reduction in the electricity bill.

The Rayburn Royal

I doubt anyone who has not lived year in –year out with only a wood stove in the kitchen can appreciate the difference between a well designed, well insulated slow combustion stove and the basic cast iron wood stoves that are still available today.

Our first experience with a wood stove was at Varna where we had a shining green enamel Crown Number 1 stove. This lightweight cast iron wood stove stood on four legs with a one and a half gallon hot water hopper on the side. It had little ability to control oven temperatures, a small firebox with a voracious appetite for wood and no insulation or firebricks at all.

On a 40°+  summer day the Crown Number 1 was guaranteed to turn any kitchen into a furnace from hell. The best that could be said for the early Crown stove was that it was marginally better than cooking on an open fire. Little did I realize when I threw it on the dump, within 25 years it would morph into a valuable antique.

We were lucky enough to replace it with a Wellstood slow combustion stove that was being removed from a house about 150 kilometres away.  The Wellstood was one of the best slow combustion wood stoves ever made. A classic example of 1950s Scottish craftsmanship, half a ton of fine-grained cast iron finished in glossy cream vitreous enamel. Well insulated, undoubtedly chock full of asbestos, a firebox fully lined with firebricks and clay mortar, simple to use controls and as a bonus, it fed a hot water system.

Good insulation and thermal mass are essential to a slow combustion stove, as much heat as possible is kept inside the stove, and half a ton of cast iron and firebricks helps maintain a consistent temperature in the oven.

We fed it on box and mulga; the box would happily burn away all night and the mulga provided lots of heat and little ash. It stayed alight for the best part of four years without ever going out.

There is something almost primeval about sitting in front of a slow combustion stove on a cold winters night, fire door open, basking in the warmth while watching the flames consume the timber. 

An ad for a Wellstood stove 1950s?

Five Weeks Is A Bit Too Long

As I stand at my kitchen window and look out on another beautiful Autumn day here in Tasmania I watch a perfect jet stream in the bluest of skies. I’m wondering what the view is like this morning from the windows of this jet that’s sweeping above the best place in Australia to live.  I’m feeling a bit dreamy and poetic this morning.  I still can’t believe I live here and I’m not just on holiday like so many that pass by our farm with mainland number plates.

Hubby has been away for the last five weeks sweating it out in North Queensland. Every night when he rings he complains about the heat and humidity and wishes he was back home here enjoying the balmy weather. I know what he means I was glad to wave goodbye to the heat and humidity of North Queensland when we moved down here. I don’t miss it one bit.

Why we live where we live.

 I have been busy looking after our Menagerie while John is away.  I think he’ll see a real difference in how much they have grown in the time he’s been gone. The Pigs are getting longer and fatter. They still make me laugh with their antics they are funny to watch. The Chooks are bigger and have almost got their full combs. Barack the Rooster (no I didn’t name him after Barack Obama it’s because of the noise he makes) is a very big boy now with his very proud tail and comb. He is the quietest Rooster I have ever seen; normally I’m very wary of Roosters. I am still waiting for the Hens to lay.  Might have to stand the axe next to the door to give them some encouragement.  The Geese love their free-range life the Goslings have grown up and it’s hard to tell them apart now. Geese must be the messiest birds ever. I’ve never seen anything poo so much I really don’t enjoy cleaning out the Geese pen. It’s always the wettest and messiest pen. I think I’ll let John have that job when he gets back. The Chook pen is always dry and is easy to sweep out. As for the Pigs well they never poo in their pen. All in all the animals are enjoying their free- range lifestyle on our farm. I enjoy watching them do what I wish all animals could do and that’s wander around in the paddocks without a care in the world.

When John gets back we will have to get very serious about adding to our stock numbers. Oh well at least our paddocks are getting a good spell and regenerating the soil with all that nice growth of grass and pasture. I think the locals have been wondering why we have so much feed growing everywhere and why didn’t we cut and bail it when everyone else did. The land will thank us for not doing so in the long run. John comes back in a few days. Will be nice to talk to another human again. There’s only so much you can say to the Dogs, Pigs, Chooks and Geese. One way conversations are a bit boring. Yes five weeks is a bit too long when you've been used to the love of your life beside you sharing the ups and downs of life for the last 30 years.

Michelle

 Another beautiful view.