Tuesday, 15 May 2012





A frustrating day. A series of clients with entitlement delusions, a boss who cannot let a letter pass his desk unchanged. He's got literary constipation. Unable to knock off in time to get stock feed or anything for dinner. When I got home the chickens had gotten into the house yard and torn up my herb garden.

Then the kicker. A calf that wants to do everything possible but drink.He ran around the house paddock, cantered up the driveway, sampled his mother's hay, played in the woodpile and hung out on the fenceline with the steers. Udder ? What udder ?

It got darker and darker, so I went to turn on the cowshed lights. DH had left them on the night before and they were flat as tacks. Words were muttered. Went to grab the little headband-mounted work light. DH had taken it up to the house. A few more words. Sat back down on my stool in the pitch dark and wondered about milking by braille.... Big Moo abruptly turned and peed on my feet !

I'm not dense, I can take a hint... Ziggy went back into the stable yard and Big Moo was turned loose in the house paddock while I went to clean up and have a quiet cup of tea. And to stomp in private.

A hour later I lined up the headlights of the farm ute and clicked my headband light on. Tied Big Moo to a post near the steers and rounded Ziggy up from his latest game. This time he found himself peckish and latched on and the milk started flowing ! Slammed supper into Big Moo's tub and milked like a demon while Ziggy played punching bags on the other side of the udder. She'd better not ever complain about my technique !

I got 11/3 litres, Ziggy got his dinner and Big Moo got her supper. Could have happened an hour earlier... but it's clear the whole thing depends on a ditzy bull calf being hungry so he's going to be parking his little bull butt for a couple of hours every evening.


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This May is the driest in 130 years. We've had no rain for two and a half months. There is a week of water left in the stock tank and now the first frosts have arrived. This means that even if it rains now there will be little pasture growth. I love this farm, but I wish I could pick it up and move it to where it rains...



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