Boys From The Bush Are Back In Town

Boys from the bush are back in town

I come to the city so much that I forget that it can be a strange and unusual place for people who don’t visit as often as I do. The Farmer and I just returned from Melbourne after a few days away with our neighbours, Mr and Mrs B and their two teenage boys.

I’ve compiled a list of things I saw that city people take for granted and that country people get excited about.

1.      Toll roads – every time the tag in the car beeped, the boys (and by ‘boys’ I also will include the adult boys as well) would cheer in excitement. It was finally getting a run after sitting dormant in the car for so long.

2.      Car maintenance – our taxi in Melbourne had the engine light on. Goodness knows how or why the boys even noticed it. There was much speculation about ‘fumes’, ‘fluid’ and ‘engines dying’ and general intrigue about a perceived lack of vehicle maintenance.

3.      City organisation – The Farmer was impressed at the layout of Melbourne, even commenting that it was ‘organised like a termites nest’. Sometimes I wonder how his brain works… As a general rule we were all excited about the train and tram network, and general navigability of the city.

4.      Soft feet and city boots – when your feet are always wrapped up in work boots, wearing thongs (city boots) for even a few days can end in cracked feet. The Farmer was well prepared with Heel Balm to see him through however.

5.      Daylight hours – when you aren’t working on a farm (where you work until the sun goes down, and sometimes even later) those daylight hours are amazing. We were out every night until at least 11pm contemplating late evening meals and cricket matches in daylight hours that were still occurring when I am normally wrapping up my day.

Having dinner at 9.15pm because... #adulting

6.      The price of meat – when you don’t normally buy meat, paying for a meal that cost you almost as much as a whole sheep sells for at home can be mind boggling. Even if it is the most delicious meal you’ve ever eaten.

Whilst we all loved Melbourne (with it’s crazy weather and wonderful sights), there is nothing like coming home to sunny Queensland, where you don’t have to choose between ’50 Lashes’ and ‘4 Wives’ beer, (because it’s ‘XXXX Gold’ or ‘XXXX Gold’ on tap). More specifically, we love coming home to the farm, resplendent after a little rain. Reality is setting back in and we are all glad for the memories we made in our week away.

You can also find me on facebook: “The Farmer’s Wife” and on Instagram: “Jess the Farmer’s Wife”

Sunburnt and Sore Hands

Next year I'm going to be taking some time off work. So I was thinking that I might (finally - after 10 years of living here) like to try my hand at this whole 'farming gig'.

I spoke to hubby and told him how next year I'd like to follow him around and see what he does, maybe help where I can, learn a few things, get involved. I suggested I might be able to write about it - about my experience as a 'real farmer's wife'.

Hubby suggested I start a new blog and call it 'Sunburnt and Sore Hands'. Everyone's a comedian.

He might be onto something though.

RURAL LOVE STORIES - Part 1 - Annaleis Topham

2012 was the year I shared my own rural romance. 2013 is time for other people to share theirs! Once a month I will try to publish other people's stories.

First cab of the rank is Annaleis Topham, who some of you will know better as the lady behind the blog, 'Teapots and Tractors'. Annaleis hails from a small farming community in Western Australia, and this is her story!

 

Our ‘Messenger’ Love Story

I still have the very first email I sent my now Husband Richard. It wasn’t particularly nice. He had searched through online profiles on Hotmail looking for country girls in Western Australia. He tells me he contacted 3 girls that day. He picked my profile because it said I worked at CBH – a grain handling facility. (So maybe I was a ‘country’ chick!) He only looked in the ‘a’ section luckily Annaleis started with an ‘a’!

A couple of things had to line up for us to even get into contact. I was teaching by then and hadn’t updated my profile information – I worked at CBH during Harvest so I could go to University. And that first email that he sent me went to my junk folder, which I never checked.

I would’ve deleted it except that the name was “blokeWA”. That made me curious. So I emailed him this.

“May I please first ask if this is a bulk mailing, if not where you got my email from...”

His reply

“Hello ....this is not bulk emailing.I was looking through msn and came
across your profile.U seemed a nice person so i thought i would add u.U
can add me to your messeger if u want.Sorry if i have wasted your
time........take care rich”

So after thinking about it for a couple of days I added him on messenger – remember how everyone used to chat?

We chatted for a couple of months. It always came so easily. Rich then came to visit Geraldton where I was teaching. We met in a Petrol Station. (I know classy hey!) Luckily we clicked in real life like we did online. That was one of the best weekends I have ever had. Quick side note – When I met him he was in his work clothes – should’ve known then that he ALWAYS wears work clothes!

 

Before we could see each other again harvest started and end of year reports needed to be written. It would take us 6 months to see each other again. We didn’t let it go that long again. Every fortnight one of us would make the 3 hour drive to visit the other.

 

I decided to take a chance and transferred with my 11 year old daughter to teach in the next town to his. It was a big risk moving my daughter, selling my home and leaving the comfort of the town I grew up in just when I was offered a Merit Select teaching position.

It wasn’t easy. All the things my daughter did after school in Geraldton weren’t available in Moora. We lived in a tiny teachers flat that even her cat didn’t like. It was hard to make friends. However over time, moving two more times to our own home things did get easier. I will say that in the first 3 years I really did wonder many times if it was worth it and nearly packed up and went home. I may not have been as comfortable in the ‘country’ as my profile led Rich to believe.

But as you see I did stick it out and we were married in Geraldton in 2008 and have two more gorgeous kids and 4 chooks. I have some wonderful friends, I still relief teach and find that by blogging I’m building a bigger community than what I have to rely on here.

Best thing I ever did was answering that email in my junk folder! I’m pretty sure Rich thinks the same.

Lastly not everyone that is part of our lives knows how we met. Rich’s parents don’t like online dating – not that we did the whole dating site thing. And I’m not even sure what Rich told them. However people meet if you’re ready to take a chance on love I think go for it. Life is too short and right now where I live there is only one single female! Sometimes you have to make your own love story come true.

I live in a very small town in the Wheatbelt of Western Australia. I stay at home and look after my two youngest children. I also do a little relief teaching when I can get a sitter and I blog at www.teapotsandtractors.com. I love to craft, read, and play netball, tennis and golf. I also love to get involved – the best way to make friends in a small community.

 

 

A Day In The Life Of Me

So it's been a while since my last blog, and trust me when I say it's been hurting me. I love this stuff. But the phrase 'too busy to even scratch myself' has never been more true. I am technically working a mere three days a week. Practically a walk in the park right? Wrong. With three small children and a 40km drive to work, I am feeling the pinch. I have reached breaking point and something has to (eventually) give.

So tell me then, why I felt like an absolute cretin when a student recently spied me practically inhaling a 'V' energy drink? Why did I feel the need to hide this apparently awesome sin? Is it a sin, I wonder, to crave, nay, depend heavily upon, a double hit of gaurana and taurine to see me through the last 6 hours of my day?

Three days a week keeps me pretty busy. Okay, I'm lying. Three days leaves me feeling like a zombie from Night of the Living Dead. (Even more than usual - this also explains my increasing dependancy on energy drinks). This will be the norm for the remainder of the year. I am slightly nervous about the stress of it all. Not because of the work part, but because of the rest of my life. Let me take you through "a day in the life of me (when I work)."
Because of my lovely, darling children. I am usually woken between 5:30am and 6:00am. This is an improvement. We used to be woken around 5:00am. If I am lucky, I will listen to Sam calling "Good morning Mumma! Come and get me!" And if I am not so lucky, I will hear the heavy THUMP THUMP THUMP of Olivia, Darcy and Sam racing into our room, crying and shouting about who is going to lie next to Mum and who is going to lie next to Dad. Either way, I fly out of bed (always 1/2 an hour earlier than I would like to) and deal with whoever is crying the most, first. Usually this is my baby, Sam.

I change Sam's nappy. Fighting off his protest (a barrage of kicks and twists and turns), I pin him to the change table and force him into a new nappy. He is already happier, and I take this moment to dress him. It's at this point I start screaming like a banshee for Olivia to get her school uniform on, and Darcy to get dressed for Kindy.

Olivia drags herself... ever...so... sloooowwwwwllllllllllllllllllllllllyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy back to her room and puts on her school shirt and shorts. Darcy is never far behind, and as I put Sam back onto the floor, I try to open Darcy's cupboard (and hope and pray that she hasn't thrown everything in and slammed it shut - in which case it will all come tumbling out again) and find something for her to wear for the day. I take out the first outfit.
"NOOO!!!!! Not that one! I don't want to wear a skirt!" (As I throw it back in and pull out some jeans.)

"NOOOO!!!! I HATE those jeans!" (Back, try again with shorts...)
"MUM!!!! I want to wear a dress!" (Strike three.)

"OK," I say,"a dress it is, and so help me God, if you don't just put it on, I think I am going to flip out!" And then as I rush to pull out a pair of socks for Olivia, Darcy is at my feet, "Help me put my undies on!" And then Sam is at my feet...
I'm hoping and praying that Charlie is already out of bed, dressed and in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. If not, I then turn my screaming banshee voice towards him.

"PLEASE start getting the kids breakfast sweety! I am rushed off my feet!"

I fly into the kitchen. Everyone is dressed (except for me), and huddled around Dad.
Olivia: Can I have porridge please? No sugar, lots of milk. Not too hot.

Darcy: Can I please have muesli and cornflakes, mixed together. Cornflakes on top, lots of milk. Not one of those baby spoons Dad!
Sam: Toast Daddy! Toast!

Darcy: I change my mind. Can I have porridge too? Honey and sugar.
Me: Right - is everyone good? Good! I'm going to get dressed.

Then it's a quick dash back to my room. I splash my face with water, removing the sleep from my eyes and brushing my hair. On a good day, I will already have laid out the clothes I am planning on wearing for the day. Excellent. On any other day, I start digging through my wardrobe for a weather appropriate piece. Mostly these days nothing seems to fit. I'm at that lovely 'in between' size, and I am certainly not complaining about where I am, but it would just be nice to fit something (ANYTHING) either way. I am dressed now, and still loathing myself in whatever I am wearing. I fight back tears just long enough to apply a small amount of makeup. Surely that will make me feel better. But no. It just makes everything worse. I remember once upon a time reading that 'as you get older, your skin begins to lose its elasticity.' I know what that means now. But sadly I am at that age where I am old enough to understand that fact, but not old enough to have embraced it.
I make it back to the kitchen in time to catch a bowl of cereal about to land on the floor. I do a quick dishwasher pack and bench clear, and then hurry everyone into the bathroom where there is a cacophony of voices, screams, toothbrushes flailing wildly in (hopefully) little mouths, water being turned on and turned off, and the repetitive sound of a hairbrush pulling through a child's hair. Hopefully we can scrounge around long enough to find some hair ties lying around somewhere.
I make a quick dash back to the kitchen as the children try to locate a pair of matching shoes. There is that terrifying moment of eerie silence as I run through the mental checklist of what needs to be done this morning.
1. Children: up, dressed, fed, hair and teeth done, shoes on, lunches in bags, homework completed and packed, library/sports bag packed, notes/money due packed, school hats packed... dear God, please let that be all.
As I sweep my hair up into a quick and easy kind-of ponytail, I run through my own list...
2. Dressed, makeup, hair, teeth, school 'stuff', handbag, lunch, purse, glasses, hat, phone... food (no time), dear God, please let THAT be all.
3. House: Is the dishwasher packed and is all food off the table? Check. Are there any jobs/shopping that need to be done in town today? Is a load of washing in? Is there fuel in the car? Do I have any classroom resources I will need at school today?
My head is literally swimming with the routine of morning chaos. This lasts until I have rounded up two of my three children (playing somewhere around the house by this stage), and am safely inside the vehicle, all children belted in tightly, 2-way turned on, phone plugged in, ready... and then I spend the 30 minute drive into town worrying about what I have forgotten.

My youngest stays at home with Sara (our au pair), who is actually a tremendous help. Sara is here so that I can actually go to work (there is no child care or day care facility in our town). Whilst Sara helps keep the house tidy, it's amazing how much damage three children can do to a clean house when they put their minds to it.

The school day itself is actually the calmest part of my day. I enjoy (in varying degrees) the six or so hours I am there immensely.

The drive home is filled with tales of how everyone's day was. What they did and didn't eat, what the best/worst bit of the day was. And then we alternate between practicing sight words and times tables, and listening and singing along to our favourite songs on the iPod. (But mostly just 'Who Let The Dogs Out' over and over again!)

Ultimately, I spend my four 'days off' cleaning and babysitting and trying to plan for school. Currently there is no such thing as 'me time.' That is also a lie. Somehow, I find time to throw myself into an episode of True Blood every now and then. I'm still trying to discern whether or not this is because I can totally relate to their 'living dead' exterior, or the fact that it is as far removed from my current state of existence that I find it mind-numbingly beautful?... hmmm.
Anyway. It's only with a full (double shot) can of 'V' that I am even remotely capable of facing the last six hours of my day. And I refuse to feel guilty about that.

I don't know how working mothers do this. But they certainly deserve a medal for it. Or at least a can of 'V' without feeling guilty.

Something Different...

This is not a regular post by me, but I felt it was a golden opportunity to do something a little different...


Today I received a blogging award from Pauline, at The Paddock. Thank you very much for the 'Stylish Blogger Award' Pauline. It is very much appreciated. Pauline is the mother of my lovely friend, Justine, in New Zealand, and she has been with this blog since its very beginning. Pauline takes amazing photos, and it is definitely worth checking out her page to see for yourself.

There are four steps to follow that go along with the award.

1. Thank and link back to the person who awarded you. 

2. Share 7 things about yourself.

3. Award 15 recently discovered great bloggers. ~They can read it here~

4. Contact these bloggers and tell them about the award.  ~I think that, for the most part, the blogs I mention aren't really into the 'award' thing, so I fully understand if they don't 'pass it on' so to speak!~

In my usual blog, I like to share my experiences as a mother, and more specifically, a mother in a remote area. Thinking of 7 things about yourself is pretty hard. I lay my life on the line and there isn't much I can tell you that will come as a surprise... 

1. I originally intended on staying 'out west' for a maximum of 6 months. I had hoped to save some money and continue my travels. I met CP a month into my time in St George, and the rest (as they say) is history. 

2. I never lie (okay, I stretch the truth about such things as Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, in an effort to prolong my children's innocence, but I never lie to adults.) When confronted with a direct question, I do not have the capacity or energy to tell a lie. 

3. I like to read books about serial killers. I am not weird. I just really find it fascinating looking into the psyche of people who are that insane. The Fred West story is a favourite.

4. I don't like mushrooms. Or fish for that matter. I like the smell of both of them cooking, but can't stomach them to save my life.

5. One day I want to learn how to take amazing photographs. I keep telling myself I'll do it next time I buy a good camera. But it never happens. Stay tuned.

6. I am anal about good spelling and grammar. It comes with the English Teacher territory. Unfortunately, having children has affected the functioning of my brain. If you find spelling or grammatical errors on my page, 9 times out of ten it is a typo. The other 1 time I have just been a lazy proofreader. 

7. I like to give gifts more than I like to receive them. Honest to goodness truth.

I don't know 15 bloggers to send this award to. So I will mention just a few who I read regularly. I like them because they are funny, or interesting, and sometimes both. And if they would like the award, they are more than entitled to it. Others, (like Pioneer Woman - who is FANTASTIC) are far too busy to even notice an award like this...

In no particular order:

* The Pioneer Woman

* Autumn Blooming

* SquiggleMum

* Daddy Dada

OKAY - thanks again Pauline! Much appreciated! Now back to my regular blogging...