Showing posts with label teacher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teacher. Show all posts

Sunday, February 9, 2014

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.

 

Friday, May 13, 2011

Some Things I Know...

Because I can, I want to share some interesting conversations I had this week, which kind of sum up parts of my life very nicely. The first is a story about my present situation. How incredibly lucky and privileged I am when it comes to things I take for granted... like not having to buy meat. The second story is about my earlier life. The happy little bubble I lived in before I learned that life existed outside of Brisbane. Hope you enjoy!

Yesterday I had to walk into a butcher and BUY meat. This is significant because my husband is a sheep and cattle farmer. Buying meat is not something we really ever do. It's kind of a given that it will always be in my freezer. So when I organised a barbeque and realised we wouldn't have enough meat for everyone, I made an executive decision to just go and buy some. Here's what happened.

Butcher: Hello Mam. Can I help you?

Me: Ummm... yeah you could lower the price of lamb and beef by about $10 a kilo for a starters... (I should add that I was smiling, so he knew I was trying to be funny.)

Butcher: Yeah... you must be a farmer's wife?

Me: That obvious? I'm actually trying not to pass out or vomit at the moment. Are you kidding me? Is this how much meat seriously costs? Actually, we run sheep and cattle, so I don't do this very often... this is really hurting me!

Butcher: (laughing)

Me: Okay then... I'll take some of your overpriced porterhouse steak, and some of those lamb chops that surely must be laced with diamonds...

Okay, so maybe the conversation didn't go EXACTLY like that... but that was definitely the tone of it. And now that the meat is at home, I'm not sure if I want to eat it, or frame it?

It's kind of been a week for sharing completely irrelevant stories like this about my life. Earlier this week at work I had a discussion with a colleague about how on earth I ended up out here. The gist of it is as follows.

About eleven years ago, I received a phonecall from District Office (for non-teacher people, this is the group of people who hire teachers and put them into specific jobs). The conversation went something like this...

D.O: Hi, we'd like to offer you a teaching position in St George.

Me: Uhhhh... how can you offer me a job in Sydney, if I trained in QLD?

D.O: I think you might be mistaken. I mean St George, western QLD. Ever heard of it?

Me: No.

D.O: What about Roma?

Me: Uh-uh. No.

D.O: Toowoomba?

Me: I've heard of it before, I think.

In retrospect (and this will only really make sense to anyone who either knows ANY of these towns and their locations well enough to see any humour in that conversation at all, or who just checked an atlas to see what just happened) the poor lady on the phone at District Office probably rolled her eyes 175 times over the duration of a 5 minute phone call. Toowoomba (for those not in the know) is an hour drive from Brisbane. Having lived out here for over 10 years now, I find that when I am driving to Brisbane, and reach Toowoomba, I already feel like I am 'there'. So it is pretty funny to think that once upon a time, I considered Toowoomba to be the 'sticks'.

Everything changes when you live out here. Your perception of distance. Your understanding of just how small Australia is. The actual amount of money you are prepared to spend on red meat. Whatever it is, I have had my mind opened. I appreciate the vast difference between city and country. I can even laugh about it.

These are just some things I know.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Behind Every Successful Farmer Is A Wife Who Works In Town.

One of the first things Charlie ever spoke to me about was my job. I'm a teacher. He seemed genuinely interested and beamed from ear to ear about what an excellent career path I had chosen, and all the opportunities it would unlock for me.

He neglected to mention that (right beside nursing) teaching is music to a romancing farmers ears. A wife who teaches is essentially a permanent solution to a bad season. I am the drought relief. Bills can be paid, mouths will be fed, ends will be met. No pressure. Of course, he didn't mention this fact to me until just after we were married.

In the seven years and four months that CP and I have been married, I have been pregnant and or breastfeeding for five years and four months. That leaves a mere two years of us just being married with no strings attached. Allegedly. Except that kids are strings. And I have three of them.


Furthermore, in the seven years and four months that we have been married, I have really only worked one year and four months at a full time permanent rate, and also done the occasional day of relief teaching. In other words, I haven't been a very reliable source of drought relief. Thank goodness for mostly good seasons throughout that time.

And now, here I am, three weeks into my new permanent part time teaching appointment. I have committed to three days teaching, every week until the end of the year. But what does it all mean?

1. A messy house.
2. Quicker, easier meals. Roasts have become a weekend luxury. Meals also require some considerable forward planning these days. After homework, baths for children and a small amount of cleaning in the afternoons, it's best to have defrosted something in advance, or even cooked it the weekend before.
3. Less me time. And less ME time equals less blogging. * Insert sad face *
4. Lobbying hard with the other Kindy Mums to help me with pick up and drop off times for Darcy, because the opening and closing times fall at the most inconvenient times possible for a teaching Mum.
5. Getting organised.
6. Hairy armpits and legs, and a skunk look hair do as my roots grow out, as I no longer have any time whatsoever to look after myself.
6. Time to find someone who can come and help out with looking after Sam. But I'll save that blog for another day...
7. Missing out on key social events, and having to live vicariously through my friends. Who would have guessed that spare change would come at the expense of my social life?!
8. More drought relief.

But not really the drought relief part. The farm is doing just fine on its own.

It doesn't need my help at all.

*Insert happy face *

PS: Would like to add as an afterthought: My sister called to let me know that 'I have had it very lucky by being able to stay home for as long as I have. Many people do not (financially speaking) have the same opportunities that I have had.' Plus I have had a bloody good time in the process - mostly. She was also worried about what people might think about my husband, and reminded me that 'I knew what I was marrying when we got married.' So mostly for my lovely sister's benefit, but also for anyone else who doesn't realise that I mostly use poetic licence to some degree in many of my blogs, I would like to remind you all that I have been truly blessed, and that I am grateful for so much in my life. Sadly that isn't what makes a good blog. But rest assured, all things this end are (mostly) very good in my life. Love you Hannah! xxx