Going Viral

So I posted this picture on my facebook blog page last night. I saw a friend 'like' it on HER friends feed. I loved it! I had toy envy immediately, and after showing my husband, I then posted it on my 'Farmer's Wife' facebook page. Twelve hours late and it has gone viral. Not like VIRAL VIRAL, but viral for me. It has doubled my fan base, and has had some crazy number of shares, that are still increasing literally by the minute. All because of this photo. You can never pick what will do it when it comes to social media!

Maybe it's the kid in all of us, marvelling at something we know we would have loved ourselves. Maybe it's the fact that a father could do this for his son, and we like it because of what we want or have for our own children. Maybe we just think it's downright cool. Whatever. So many people have seen something in this picture that they like. And they are sharing it furiously!

Go figure! x

It's Raining, It's Pouring

 

 

This week we had some rain. I know this because CP woke up and announced loudly that it was raining. And then I was annoyed. Not at the rain, only at CP, for waking me up. He then proceded to tell me every 5 minutes that it was still raining, or (if it was no longer raining) then he would speculate on how much rain we had already had, or how much he was still expecting. As it turns out, the storm was all bark and no bite, and sadly, we only ended up with about 1/8th of an inch.

 

If you live on the east coast of Australia (or in the tropics, or in fact any place where rain is common place) this means bugger all. Firstly, you probably don't even know what an inch is (especially if you are under 50 years of age), or you don't care what an inch is. But essentially, an inch means you hear the gentle pitter patter of rain on your roof for a period of minutes.

 

 

If you live where I live, an inch means something else entirely. An inch (or 100 points, or 25 ml) means our tanks and dams get a little fuller, our stock get a little more feed, and our crops get a little much needed watering. An inch also means that if the dirt road into town (all 20km of it to the bitumen) has been recently graded, there is every chance I will need to put the car into 4WD. And compacting this, is the unwritten rule of the bush that you can't complain about rain under any circumstances. Rain is good. Even when it's flooding. And an inch is perfect. Despite any inconvenience that it has caused me personally.

 

 

I'm not really complaining. (Oh, who am I kidding? Yes I am.) Friends of mine can't even leave their property with an inch of rain. So I consider myself lucky. But I am a city girl at heart, and the mere thought of engaging in any 4WD activity is enough to put a thin layer of sweat on my brow.

 

 

When I was a kid, my Dad was a member of a 4WD club. This seems to give my husband endless hours of pleasure, imagining me and my siblings strapped into the back of a 4WD, high tailing it to some private property; unwilling recipients in my father's quest for excitement. It was actually fun, I think. But now that I am all grown up, it's very different.

 

Hubby would be rolling his eyes and snickering at my apparent ineptness in the world of driving in the wet. And I consider myself a good driver too. (I should be, my father is a driving instructor. But as it has been pointed out to me before, if my father is a doctor, it doesn't automatically make me a good doctor too.) In fact, hubby probably could have handled the road today without the use of 4WD. But not me. My legs start that uncontrollable "knock knocking", my knuckles turn white,and my brow creases for the duration of the trip. I don't breathe properly, and the mere whisper from a passenger is enough to send me off the deep end. I know some of you reading this actually might even get off on 4WD-ing, but it's not my thing. Not with three children in the back. And not even on my own. And even though I am very grateful for the rain, I prefer it on days when I am staying home.

 

In the last three years we have been blessed with 'good seasons' (read; lots of rain). Three floods in three years in fact. On nights when it rains, hubby can barely contain his excitement. He's like a little kid at Christmas, and he wants to share it with the world.

 

And although I am always happy for good seasons, as a mother of three small children, I am just as grateful for a good night sleep.

Bigger Is Better!

At least it is for me!

In the car department, that is...

Ever since I have been married and living on the farm, owning 'bigger' cars has been a prerequisite. There is a stigma that comes with driving a bigger car (luxury car, wealthy farmer, extravagence etc.) but the reality is that without a car like this, my life would be so much more difficult. I can't even begin to imagine what wrangling these roads in a Corolla on a daily basis would be like!!!

Here's some facts about my life.
1. Our driveway (either driveway - there are 2) is 3km long. That's 3km to the mailbox. And here is a pic of a fraction of our driveway...

2. Every single week day I drive a total of 80km, JUST to get my kids onto a school bus and bring them home again. That's not including the days I go into town for meetings, appointments or work. At least once a week (and sometimes 3 or 4 days a week) I drive 160km a day as well.
3. To go shopping I drive a total of 200km minimum (return trip), and to go to the dentist I drive a total of 500km. (Return trip).

This averages about 500km a week!

Here are some images of the road I drive on every day...

White rock road

And not even to mention what it's like when it's wet! This is what we drove through after being stuck at home in the last floods for just under 3 weeks! With a small car we would have been able to get out after more than a month!

Don't worry everyone! We walked through this first!

And then there's the damage left after the water has gone! The 20km trip to the bus stop is a bit like manouvering your way around a mine field at the moment!

The grass is always greener when it comes to the road out here. Ten years ago, the road was so awful that even at the smell of rain, the road would go to jelly, and I would have to pull out my extreme car driving skills just to get to the sealed road! I have written before about how I am not a fan of 4WD-ing, so when the council upgraded our roads to white rock I was ecstatic!... Until I realised that white rock rips your tyres to shreds much faster than the old roads do. And that's these big, heavy duty tyres too. On little cars, the damage to tyres would be far worse, and more frequent.

Bigger cars are also better out here for one other (pretty major) reason... THE ANIMALS. I once blogged about kangaroos. They are missiles hell bent on projecting themselves at your car at the most inconvenient time possible. In a small car, the effects can be disastrous.In a big car, the effects are managable. Once I even hit a wild pig (in the old car). And you don't want to do that in a small car.

I have had two cars in the last almost-10 years.

THE BEFORE CAR:

When CP and I first married, we purchased the Nissan Patrol. It was exactly what we needed. It was high off the ground, Diesel and comfortable. We had no children, but knew that they were inevitable, and as this car was a base model, it meant that it came without carpet etc. It was perfect for any mud, food, dust and spilled beverage that might be inflicted upon it. We bought it second hand, and it had done about 36 000km at the time. The warranty was valid until 100 000km and at 99000km I was driving it to work and it had a full motor/engine break down. It literally died. So with 1000km to go on the warranty, we had almost an entirely new 'motor/engine' fitted, and had very little trouble with it for the remainder of its life with us. By the time we traded it in (9 years later) it had almost 300000km on the clock!

THE AFTER CAR:

After about 2 years of pleading and begging, we finally traded the old car in to get this Toyaota Landcruiser Prado. It still smells new, even after stinky kids and mud and dust have tried their hardest to make it 'old'. We chose this car because it was a 7 seater (the kids are at the age where they want to have friends over, and it's a bit rough when we can't fit anyone else in either). It's also automatic (oh my goodness, it's so nice not to have to work my way through clunky gears anymore!), and has a bunch of other features I love. It is a 4WD and we've already had to use it once, but it's not as high as the old car was (off the ground), but otherwise, it ticks all the right country boxes. We've had it for about two months and it's already racked up about 8000km!

Rocking up to someone's property can be a bit like attending a 4WD convention. But we are all in the same boat!

So living out here, bigger is more often than not, better. I have no idea why anyone would want to drive a car this big if they lived in the city. Rest assured my 'luxury car' is almost permanently coated in dirt and mud. I need a toothbrush to clean the dust out of the panelling inside. I actually use the 4wd on occasion. I don't drive it because I think of it as a status symbol, but rather as an investment in my driving security as long as I am living out here.

* No car dealership paid me to write this blog, however if Toyota (or any other car dealership) would like to sponsor me in future, feel free to contact me to flog you on my blog!

When it rains...

If you live on the east coast of Australia (or in the tropics, or in fact any place where rain is commonplace) this means bugger all. Firstly, you probably don't even know what an inch is (especially if you are under 50 years of age), or you don't care what an inch is. But essentially, an inch means you hear the gentle pitter patter of rain on your roof for a period of minutes. 

If you live where I live, an inch means something else entirely. An inch (or 100 points, or 25 ml) means our tanks and dams get a little fuller, our stock get a little more feed, and our crops get a little much needed watering. An inch also means that if the dirt road into town (all 20km of it to the bitumen) has been recently graded, there is every chance I will need to put the car into 4WD. And compacting this, is the unwritten rule of the bush that you can't complain about rain under any circumstances. Rain is good. Even when it's flooding. And an inch is perfect. Despite any inconvenience that it has caused me personally.

I'm not really complaining. (Oh, who am I kidding? Yes I am.) Friends of mine can't even leave their property with an inch of rain. So I consider myself lucky. But I am a city girl at heart, and the mere thought of engaging in any 4WD activity is enough to put a thin layer of sweat on my brow. 

When I was a kid, my Dad was a member of a 4WD club. This seems to give my husband endless hours of pleasure, imagining me and my siblings strapped into the back of a 4WD, high tailing it to some private property; unwilling recipients in my father's quest for excitement. It was actually fun, I think. But now that I am all grown up, it's very different.

When hubby and I first purchased our first 4WD (a Nissan Patrol wagon- or a big white car for the uninitiated) I've got to admit, I was kind of pumped. I thought it was a bit like a status symbol. Silly me. What I quickly realised is that if you live out in the sticks and you don't own a ridiculously over-sized vehicle (which is inconvenient in the city to say the least), you will spend a fortune on tyres, and never be able to leave your property with even a whiff of rain. So really, to live out here, you need a big car. And that's all well and good until you need the big car. Like today.

Hubby would be rolling his eyes and snickering at my apparent ineptness in the world of driving in the wet. And I consider myself a good driver too. (I should be, my father is a driving instructor. But as it has been pointed out to me before, if my father is a doctor, it doesn't automatically make me a good doctor too.) In fact, hubby probably could have handled the road today without the use of 4WD. But not me. My legs start that uncontrollable "knock knocking", my knuckles turn white,and my brow creases for the duration of the trip. I don't breath properly, and the mere whisper from a passenger is enough to send me off the deep end. 

But we made it. Easily. I know some of you reading this actually might even get off on 4WD-ing, but it's not my thing. Not with 3 children in the back. And not even on my own. And even though I am very grateful for the rain, I prefer it on days when I am staying home.

Last night we had just under an inch and a half of rain. But what does that mean?