Kangaroos

Kangaroos

If you live anywhere in the world other than the "bush", you probably think kangaroos are these incredible, gorgeous, soft, cute, hopping animals. (And they are!) You probably want one as a pet. If you would give your left arm for a kangaroo as a pet, it's probably not a good idea to read on. Consider that a warning.

When I first moved ‘out here’ I was amazed every single time I saw a Kangaroo. "Oh look! It's hopping!" And "Awwww! It has a joey in its pouch!" And they are truly remarkable animals. There is something very interesting about them. And they are incredibly cute. I suppose even all these years later, I still am amazed that I live in a part of the world where I see so many amazing creatures on a daily basis.

But let me give you the facts as I know them about kangaroos:

1. Kangaroos are missiles on two legs, programmed to hit your car in the most expensive place to repair. This is a fact. You'd think after years and years of evolution they would have sussed out that the black strip of road connecting civilisations is a no-go zone. But no. Day after day these furry missiles continue to hurtle themselves obliviously towards moving vehicles. The first time you ever hit a kangaroo, you'll feel very bad about it and maybe even cry. But rest assured, the next time you hit one you'll be angry about it.

2. Kangaroos eat the feed intended for other livestock, and plants in your garden. In fact they eat pretty much everything they shouldn't be eating. And if anyone reading this has heard fantastic stories about "the near extinction of kangaroos", then they surely haven't taken a drive past our sorghum crops, or the burgeoning wheat crops of our neighbours. No problem with kangaroo numbers out here. And these kangaroos don't have a problem breeding either. It's not uncommon to see a kangaroo with a tiny joey suckling at the teat, and a bigger joey in the pouch, and an even bigger joey, independently hopping beside its mother.

3. The smell of a three day kangaroo carcass on the side of the road is something you won't forget in a hurry. Enough said.

4. Kangaroos make great working dog meat.

5. They really are beautiful and incredible creatures. Watching them drink at a waterhole, or bound effortlessly over fences, drains and tall grass is mind boggling. Seeing a joey chasing its mother and wobbling as it hops still makes me smile, and furthermore, it reminds me of what a wonderful part of Australia I really live in. And how lucky I am to live here.

If you haven't been to this part of the world yet, then pack your bags, and come and have a look. But remember to drive carefully. Our road hazards are often of the furry and moving variety.

New Year Celebrations

As a side note, we arrived home this New Year's Eve after 8 hours in the car. The last thing we wanted to do was head out for a late night! As it turned out, there was a huge party up the road that saw the sun in on a new year, and part of me wishes I'd had the inclination. The other part of me was happy to hit the sack early. Here are my thoughts of the end/start of New Year Celebrations...


Back in my younger days I was a big fan of ‘ye old New Year celebrations’. In the city I could be found dancing on tables with hordes of friends and strangers, having paid an excessive amount of money to enter a non-descript bar, singing at the top of my lungs and partaking in a drink or two. *wink wink nudge nudge* I had all the energy and stamina in the world, and New Years Eve was the best night out in the calendar year.

After I moved out west I found it harder to really relax when I was out. I had become more anxious about the classic small town concern, whereby parents of students (or god forbid even students themselves) could see what I was like after a few drinks, and as such I always erred on the side of ‘less is more’, much to my friends’ disappointment. Once bitten, twice shy I guess.

One New Year I even found my way to Nindigully. I spent my first night in an actual swag (I had no idea what one even was before I moved out west), and saw how crazy a New Years party could actually be. It was hot (like STINKING hot), crowded and loud. There were cars and bands and so many people. And even more flies than there were people. It was a huge culture shock for me.

Now that I am old (er) with young children, New Years celebrations are like an elusive friend. I’d like to catch up again and reminisce, but life seems to keep getting in the way.

The irony is that now I have the money and ability to afford to head out and have a big one, I have less inclination to do so. “We live so far away…”, “I can’t be bothered driving…”, “But who will mind the kids…” You name it, I’ve probably used it as an excuse. Mostly I find myself fighting the urge to sleep and finding that by 10pm I have reached my limit and trot off to bed for a full night of sleep. I don’t even remember the last time I was awake to see the New Year in.
Perhaps this year will be different. My children are all old enough to get their own breakfast in the morning. They know how to work the television. Maybe a big night out is on the cards after all.

Careers that might have assisted me in my transition to Farmer's Wife...

Whilst we all know that being a wife doesn’t require any previous education and training as such, there are a few careers that might have made my baptism of fire into the role, a little more calm in the beginning. (Or even now, truth be told).

As I am a teacher, The Farmer has often reminded me that I am the ‘drought relief’. It’s an inside joke around farming parts that you will always be the source of income, regardless of the weather, when you are a teacher, and as such, you are a catch of sorts. Of course, it’s all just fun and games. Any job off farm is almost certainly appreciated, however many wome have found that they are more useful (and perhaps better contibuters) by not working off-farm. Whatever floats your boat.

In all seriousness, teachers and nurses (and medical specialists) are prime candidates for snagging a farmer. New girls in farming towns are always the recipients of lots of male attention. And every year brings with it a new swag of female teachers and nurses.

Over the years I’ve often thought that being a teacher would be handy if you had to ever home school your kids. Thankfully I don’t. I HAVE attempted it during floods, when we’ve been stuck at home for a number of weeks. But I take my hat off to women who manage to educate their children at home. You are a breed of women who I could only ever aspire to be like. I found it to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Whilst being a teacher enables me to better understand curriculum, nothing prepares you for the test of endurance you undergo on a daily basis as a mother AND a home educator.

Being a nurse might have also been handy. If you could earn frequent flyer points from calling 13HEALTH, I would be able to fly around the world several times for free. I’ve become quite adept at diagnosing my kids over the years. Mothers everywhere develop that same level of medical ability at some point, but geez it would have been handy over the last few years. The times when we had  a 7mm gaping bloody lip, the fevers, broken collar bones, broken elbows, temperatures, flus, respiratory concerns, vomiting bugs… and god forbid if a snake bite had ever happened. Touch wood it hasn’t – and nor has anything else major – but a background in any first aide could be a god send on a farm.

There are other careers that might have proved useful over the years too.

 

The other day The Farmer came in at lunch and asked me if I would mind picking him up from the ‘4-corner yards’ in about half an hour. I must have screwed up my nose (and not because I didn’t want to do it, but because I hadn’t drawn those yards onto my map of the property). I KNOW where the yards are, but  The Farmer wanted me to go there HIS way (the quick way), and whilst I thought I had a fair idea where it was and what the best road to get there would be, I wasn’t 100% certain. The Farmer (correctly interpreting my screwed up nose as complete hopelessness) followed up with ‘you know the road?! Up where all those Brigalow trees are.’

*Cue the moment where I realised that a career in Botany might have come in handy. Eventually I found my way there (ok, so I may have kind of followed him out there after lunch, but the good news is that it was where I would have gone anyway). We were all winners.

And I have already forgotten what a Brigalow tree looks like again…

When we watch TV shows like My Kitchen Rules, I will occasionally hear The Farmer make a comment along the lines of ‘why don’t you ever cook meals like that?’ I generally respond with, ‘I DO! I just don’t stack it all up like that.’ Or something along those lines. Sometimes I think that a career as a Chef might have been useful on the farm. As it stands, I am pretty satisfied with my culinary ability. But cooking skills are always much appreciated on a farm.

I am ‘needlework challenged’. I don’t own a sewing machine, and the extent of my needle working skills is patching a hole, or adjusting a hem. Don’t worry, I disappoint myself too. Perhaps my perceived wastefulness could be mended (excuse the pun) by improving my skills as a seamstress.

Other careers that would have come in handy include (but are not limited to) being:

·         A vet (Hello?! Anyone remember the infamous incident where I contemplated calling a vet for a steer that was ill near our house in my early days on the farm? Read all about that sad and sorry tale here).  Being a vet would probably be THE handiest career to have chosen had I known I would end up a Farmer’s Wife at some point.

·         Truck Driver, general labourer, or even a tradie of some description (plumber, electrician, builder etc.). The Farmer always tells me I am the brain of our outfit, and he is the heavy lifter. Heavy lifting is certainly useful on accession. Like when you want to bring a piano into your house… (long story). But our water pump that has been playing up, broken oven and washing machine (and lawn mower now that I’m thinking about it) could have been fixed if I’d had the skills. The Farmer is generally too busted to do anything else by the time he gets home.

·         Mechanic. Who am I kidding? Whilst it would certainly be handy, I should learn how to change a tyre before I look at any benefit that being a mechanic would be for me. And learn how to use the Low 4WD gear in The Farmer’s work ute properly… perhaps muscles is really actually all I need, come to think of it…

·         Accountant. Oh my goodness, I loathe and despise bookwork as much as I loathe and despise the drought. I’d rather sit in a dentist chair and have a root canal done, than do books all the time.* Perhaps if I was more confident in that area, I wouldn’t fear it so much.

* I didn’t really mean that about the root canal. What kind of person would prefer that? ;)

·         A degree in Public Relations would also be ideal. As a member of the P and C, and any other number of committees, not to mention just the advocacy for farming that goes with living on the land, ALL require excellent PR skills. Something I could certainly use…

·         Counsellor – especially during the drought. I actually did start my Masters in Guidance and Counselling and having babies put that on ice for a while (read permanently). Some days I think that having skills in this area would be something of a godsend around here. (Or not just HERE, but here as in on a farm or in the country etc.)

Of course, whilst all of these professions would be handy, they are by no means a pre-requisite. Thank goodness. Pretty much all you need is a big heart, passion for the land and a good relationship with your partner to really make it work. That and being open minded, flexible and being able to think outside the square and work with what you already have. The rest will all fall into place eventually.

 

How To Survive On A Farm (Tips From Someone Who Knows Nothing About It). Part 8: Find a Drinking Partner, ahhh, I Mean FRIEND...

Ten years ago I moved to St George knowing NO ONE. Not a soul. And NO THING, (nada, nil, zip) about the bush. Ten years on, I can't imagine myself anywhere else. Okay, that is a blatant lie. I still hope and pray that CP will wake up one day dreaming of THIS - ocean as far as the eye can see, and shopping centres every few kilometres. But since I know that he will die before that will happen, I repeat, I can't imagine myself anywhere else.

Luckily for me, I've picked up a few very good local friends along the way. This is CRITICAL in making the country your HOME. So in no particular order, and in no particular portrayal of the truth, I have categorised some of the important people in my life. They know who they are. XXX.

1. The Drinkers / Girls Weekenders.

It is essential that you find someone who you can just rock up at their house with a bottle of Omni Blue, a packet of Barbeque rice crackers, cut up kabana and a Hummus dip and know that they will not only welcome you openly, and help you consume way too much of above mentioned food and beverages, but also feed the three children you've had to drag over there with you if your stay extends into meal times. The drinking buddy is important because they don't make you feel guilty about anything. You will mostly turn to the drinking buddy when you need to escape your house. This could be because the children / husband / work / weather / cat or dog is getting on your nerves, or it could be because you need to return the mail that was wrongly left in your mailbox. It could also be that you feel bad eating a whole kabana on your own, or drinking a bottle of Omni on your own, and need someone to appease your guilt.

This type of friend is also up for either a girls trip away or 'weekender'. They will come / organise a few days away with just the girls. It involves fake tans, having nails and hair and make up done, watching movies, getting dressed up and shopping. And no children. Or husbands.

PS: Logistically speaking, it helps if at least one of your drinking buddies is also your neighbour. But we can't always have everything. (Unless of course, you're me.)

2. The Cavalry.
This is the person you go to when you need urgent and immediate help in any shape or form. These friends are real gems, because mostly you don't even have to go to them. They just know when to find you. The Cavalry are easily identified at such key moments in your life as pregnancy, major life events, planning of functions, busy periods at work. My Cavalry cooked me meals all through my pregnancies, when the smell of all foods drove me into a deep and dark pit of despair. She still cooks for me! This Friday we have a sports carnival that starts at some ungodly hour (all for a good cause though!) and she is cooking me dinner for that night, so I don't need to worry about it myself after such a long day out of the house! She is also making me lunch, and coming to cheer on my kids (who she is also making lunch for), and helping me get out of the house in time - even though she lives 1/2 an hour away. I know. I sound completely incompetent. I can't stop the Cavalry. The Cavalry is a force to be reckoned with.  The Cavalry has more energy than you could ever hope to muster yourself, and you will only ever aspire to being able to live up to such high standards, as those set by this friend.

3. The Club.
It could be a book club, a sports club, an organisation or whatever. I am a member of several. The club are people you might only meet with occasionally, but they are always worth the wait. Some of the best laughs I have are with people in 'the club'. I'm talking about crying until you wet your pants kind of laughing. Plus I get to eat garlic prawns when the club meets, so that is an added bonus. People in 'the club' are often people you have a lot in common with. They are people who all have a common interest, and as such, are much easier to find common ground with. Plus they take me away from the frightening reality of my crazy life for one evening a month. CP seems to think the 'once a month' is more like once a fortnight these days. And he could be right. But being part of a club is nice.

4. The Workmates.
These are the people who you meet strictly through work. Sometimes they are 'local' (also married to farmers), and sometimes they are just doing their country service. They understand why you are stressed, and why you cry when you are busy. They remember your birthday and bring a cake into the staff room to celebrate. They look after your children when you are stuck in a meeting or are locked in the photocopy room trying to get something productive happening. They are people you will sometimes socialise with in other capacities (clubs, parents etc.) but you will relate to mostly in a work capacity. Workmates are sympathetic to the varying needs of a working parent.

5. The Good Samaritans.
These are the friends (who probably also fall into other categories) who you constantly feel like you will never be able to make it up to. They seem to do so many 'little things' for you, even though they genuinely don't seem to mind. My good samaritans pick my youngest daughter up from the school I teach at (since I get to school at some ridiculously early hour) and drop her off at the Kindy. Then they pick her up in the afternoon and bring her back to my school for me. These are genuinely GOOD people, who I respect and admire in so many ways.

6. The Wife/Mother Crowd.
When I was first dating CP, a farmers wife (who I had very little in common with at the time, but who had clearly noticed my discomfort whilst socialising with 'the country crowd') once told me that things will get easier when I am married with children. I remember being upset by her comment and thinking that it should have been easier than that. It should just be that people like me for me, regardless of whether or not I am married or if I have children. But I understand what she meant now. Once upon a time, that farmers wife was just like me. And all she meant was that it doesn't matter if you have nothing in common with anyone out here NOW, because when you add a husband and children into the equation, we all have that in common. And that's sometimes all it takes to make lifelong friendships.

Some of the women I have met through having children and being married are some of my closest friends. They are not necessarily people I would ever have spoken to in any other circumstances, and now I can't imagine not having them in my life. Our children will grow up together. Hopefully our husbands will grow up together too. Whoops... I mean grow older together...  :)

The wives and mothers are the people you will need to see you through the crazy years of sleepless nights, and screaming children. They will offer advice, recipes, clothes, baking dishes, ingredients and anything else they know has worked for them. They are people you call when you find a sick heifer over the back fence and can't find anyone at home to tell you if it is okay. They are the people you call when you don't know why your baby is crying. They are the poeple you speak to in front of the school to complain about your husband not helping with the children enough. They are people you will car pool to JRL practise 3 hours away with. They are good friends, not only because they have to be, but because they just are special people, just like you.

7. The Family.

The immediate family, the in-laws, the cousins, the grandparents. It doesn't matter who they are. They will be another component of your friendship network. I couldn't have survived without mine. CPs parents help me with the children. They have introduced me to some of my closest friends. CPs cousins were some of my first friends out here. They helped welcome me to a new, large family. And I love them. It's true that you CAN choose your friends, and you CAN'T choose your family. But I have been incredibly lucky with both.

And your husband. You have to like your husband. Even though he might leave the cupboard doors open, and never put the milk and margarine back in the fridge. I argue with mine a fair bit, but I love him. I love him a lot.

I have been asked in the past if the friendships you make 'out here' are as genuine as friendships I made 'before'. And I can honestly answer that, 'yes', these friendships are real and important, and even though they are also necessary, they are often even more important. Women out here understand what you go through on a daily basis. They understand the dynamics of farm life, and country living, and the work/life balance that you try to maintain even without local child care facilities.

My friends and I, we are peas in a pod. They help me to make sense of my life as it is. And I can't imagine things any other way.