Having decided that my recovery from what has been a double hip replacement (over 6 months) has been a success and that I am ready to push the rehab once again and get out and about. Those around me are not 100% convinced that I am ready for this yet, but as I have never been very good at taking it easy, I am getting on their nerves and under their feet at home, I find myself out wandering through the bush again with the dogs.
The dogs, tracking imaginary escaped prisoners
As previously mentioned, there is plenty of wildlife in the vicinity and Kangaroos, Koala’s, possums and even the occasional Echidna can be found.
A satanic looking possum awaiting to leap on unsuspecting victims in a barn
The beautiful Fairy Wrens have returned to the garden and the shy spotted Pardalotes, who like to nest in the old stone walls around the property can be heard calling to each other as they decide which of the previous years tunnels they made in the old mortar to move into. They have raised generations of their families on the old farm and they keep coming back to what they know.
Our favourite Pardalotes are back again this year – NB. not actually one of ours
Regional Victoria has many old country towns that have seen a slow decline since the end of the goldrush and of course, the traumatic crash of the price of wool in 1991. Many of the towns have seen so many jobs disappear that the young families have moved out. Schools have closed down through alack of pupils and as a result, so do the small retail businesses in those towns. Yet in spite of all this doom and gloom, some industrious small towns have managed to reinvent their themselves with literary festivals, farmers markets and craft fairs. Kyneton, is a lovely old country town and has a ‘Lost Trades’ fair https://www.rundellandrundell.com.au/lost-trades-australia. Of course Kyneton has become quite gentrified of late with several coffee shops and some great antique (junk) shops.
We went out to Kyneton last month to the fair and I really loved the way that there are people who follow the old ways of hedge and stone wall building, wool spinning and felt making, eccentric metal working (suit of armour for your stag anyone?), wooden bucket and furniture making and the most esoteric of all, tanning skins with your own wee… I have to admit, it’s a little ‘steam punk’ in places, but as I can’t grow a decent beard, as much as I’d love to, just for a giggle, I’ll never be mistaken for a card carrying hipster.
The fantastic bucket making display. Note the impressive beard…
Folding penny farthing anyone?
A good place to find your child a new double headed axe
Among the best of regular regional markets is the one at Talbot https://www.tripadvisor.com.au/Attraction_Review-g635982-d4025344-Reviews-Talbot_Farmers_Market-Talbot_Victoria.html, which is held on the third Sunday of each month. It sells all the usual crapola that you find at car boot sales everywhere, but there is a great ‘bird man’, who arrives with his ute full of caged chickens, ducks and finches for sale.
I am afraid that I’m a bit of a softie when it comes to chickens. I also realise that you can’t buy them singly, as they always have to have a pal of the same kind and arrival date, or they get bullied. Last trip to Talbot saw us come back with six new hens, two ‘standard’ but very pretty, red hens and two black silky hens, with pom poms on their heads and two golden, fluffy footed Bantams. Bringing us to a total of ten hens and one rooster.
The very proud, but daft pom pom headed Silky’s
Sadly, we weren’t getting more than one egg a day out of all our birds combined as the spectacular and extremely motivated rooster had been at the hens all day and night had gone on strike and they weren’t about to start presenting us with any eggs. In the past, accidentally hatched roosters had gone to the dogs (so to speak), but we heard of a local man who collects unwanted roosters and ‘takes them to his farm’ – yet another euphemism for Sunday lunch I suspect, so he went yesterday and I’m looking forward to having some peace and quiet, as the hens are I’d imagine. Not to mention the prospect of getting some eggs again, of course.
Now, as if we don’t have enough wildlife (3 dogs, a cat plus the chooks), we always seem to come back with more from this place. Thus far, I have resisted the entreaties of the various Jerry Juniors to purchase goats, Merino sheep “they’ll be great for keeping the grass down Dad” – selling the idea like they are some kind of labour saving device or pigs “you know you can house train them and teach them to sleep in a basket Dad”…, when I know full well, that there will be a world of extra jobs entailed, not least pen building, feeding and cleaning out; not to mention the inevitable vets bills.
However, all this attempted steadfastness went to crap when I was out on some friends farm recently. I remarked how I was looking forward to having a lamb roast when I was offered one ‘on the hoof’ Apparently, this little fellow had arrived courtesy of a late season visit by the ram and as all the others were taking a ride on the big truck (kind of like when you tell the kids that your farm is too small for the bullocks and they have to go and live on a bigger farm) and that this one would be on the truck with his much bigger mates. I caved and told him that I’d have him and was instantly blackmailed with “well, he’ll be lonely on his own and there’s another, just a little bigger that has no commercial value” So, of course, I ended up bringing two home. That meant that I had to build them a pen, by sectioning off part of the garden (there’s no weeds now!) and buying hay and pellets.
The sheep with no names
The problem being, of course that when Mrs Jerry and #2 daughter see them happily trotting around the garden, my dreams of endless roasts and kebabs are shelved – “you’re not bloody killing those lovely animals” was the cry. I have avoided naming them as its much more difficult to put something with a name ‘ on the truck’ and with them being too small, I also have a while to work on/bribe the family.
Have a great Easter.
Hey Jerry, great to have you back blogging – your rehab of the second hip must be as miraculous as the first. It seems living in the country and being surrounded by animals and old things is becoming more and more desirable. Daughters two and three were in a country town (2 1/2 hours away) collecting a bee swarm yesterday. They were a little envious of the young couple who owned the beautiful old house, pressed tin walls, fireplaces etc. The had bought it for $87K!
Hello Christine, thanks for the comment. Yes, I have been lucky with the hips and I’m back in the saddle – or whatever a suitable expression is! I am very impressed that the girls are into beekeeping, it’s such a zen hobby, but my lot have not been producing much in the way of honey as its’s been a bad season for the gums here because of the lack of a honey flow, the bees haven’t swarmed and my bee wrangling skills (such as they are) have been a bit redundant. That old house where they grabbed the swarm sounds fantastic and a real bargain, who can find a house for that price nowadays; was it out on the Nullarbor?
The house was in Pingelly in the wheatbelt.
The hive is thriving, the bees as busy as ….. well themselves, at daughter two’s place. Daughter three harvested 15kgs of honey from their hive – thick, amber and delicious. Hope your bees find the energy to elect a queen and res warm this year. Good luck.
Great writing as always Dad. Although you managed to leave out the part where they became excellent escape artists and lead me to run around blurry-eyed in PJs attempting to tackle them in the early hours of the morning…. on several occasions… oh well im looking forward to my new sheepskin lined denim jacket 🙂
Serves you right for badgering me into getting all this wildlife! x