How Times Have Changed!

How Times Have Changed

It doesn’t matter if you live in the city or in the country, there is always going to be an element of change once you settle down, marry and have kids. And (as I have written about before) I am all about embracing change. In just a few phrases I can neatly summarise how far I have come in that time (that aren’t topics I have already covered in previous pieces).

1. Snakebite:

                      NOW – An actual injury resulting in contact by a reptile with another living creature (presumably a human being) that sends shivers down the spine of all Australians, but especially those of us Australians living in an area inhabited by King Brown snakes.  
                      THEN – a well-priced beverage comprising of a delicious mixture of beer and 
coke that was regularly consumed in a poorly lit bar in the city, usually on Thursday Student Nights.

2. Dancing:   

                      NOW – something I do civilly at either weddings (or as I am cleaning the house). Usually I hope people aren’t watching me, but mostly I know that they aren’t.
                      THEN – something I only ever attempted after consuming multiple snakebites (see above), and usually only ever on a stage or table at above mentioned poorly lit bar.

3. TV Shows I watch:

                      NOW – ABC news, Landline, The Batchelor. Shows that are informative and educational. (And also light relief from the seriousness of other shows often seen on the ABC and SBS – both of which I love).
                      THEN – I honestly didn’t know that the ABC or SBS existed for any other purpose than playing kids shows.

4. Rain:

                      NOW – My whole life revolves around if and when it arrives, and in what amount. It is the life blood of everything in my life. I run outside to check the rain gauge in order to complete our rainfall charts we compile.
                      THEN – The rain only ever affected what outfit I was wearing, and how I would need to do my hair. I used to sit on the verandah and marvel at it during the summer storms when I was at university.

5. Conversations:

                       NOW – Almost all are weather related, or contain a small part involving weather. I can’t recall a single day of my new life where weather conversations don’t play any part at all.
                       THEN – I can’t recall a conversation about the weather where I wasn’t complaining that it was too hot, too cold, too wet etc.


When I think about my city life, I am often amazed at the 180 degrees that I have spun over the last twelve years, and at how well I have adjusted.
Do you have anything you would add to the list? Let us know.

Easter and the Great Plagues

Easter has come and gone and thankfully we survived. The lead up is usually as crazy as the lead up to Christmas, and this year was really no different. It was full of plagues and planning and tired and cranky children and parents. We’re not a huge church going family – we’re lucky to make it there for weddings, funerals, Easter and Christenings. And this weekend we managed to combine two of them. (Easter and a Christening). It was the icing on an otherwise chaotic week.

I’m sure that somewhere in the Bible it speaks of the great plagues. I’m almost certain we have three of them at home at the moment.

Before Easter I usually hide a great stash of chocolate in anticipation of the big event. Knowing we have a few mice around at the moment I was especially careful about this. And then as the big night descended upon us, I opened my stash only to learn that mice had somehow managed to find their way into several items! I was horrified (and also thankful for the spares). The Easter Bunny also had to deny the request from the children for an egg hunt (other than a few little cue cards leading them to the refrigerator) as the thought of mice chasing chocolate throughout the house makes my skin crawl.

On top of mice, we also have rabbits. And crickets. We live at the Hayman Island for rabbits at the moment. They are everywhere. Rabbits and crickets (or grasshoppers?). It’s enough to send a former city-girl like myself a little stir-crazy. The noise, the movement, the damage. Maybe those aren’t three of the plagues mentioned in the Bible, but I did say that we aren’t a huge church going family.

Anyone who lives in rural areas will tell you that the ‘plagues’ all pass. They are always replaced by the next plague, and some are far worse – or better – than others, and occasionally you are lucky enough to have a reprieve from all of them. Right now I am inundated with critters I could live without and it’s taking its toll on me. If anyone asks me what I’ve been up to lately, it seems like a cop out to say ‘eradicating mice’, but you really have to see it to believe the hard work and determination it takes to have a minor win here!

Thankfully we spent most of the Easter weekend at home. It meant a few days of relaxing with the family.

And then it rained.

Five inches of bacon saving liquid gold. We were lucky, although sadly others are still waiting their turn. Such is the way of nature. We celebrated our own little win by running through puddles and taking photos. The only way we know how.

 

 

Like Christmas, Easter can be a stressful time, however the rain certainly took a lot of the pressure off at home. It meant we could stay inside and hang out over a movie or a puzzle. And more than eradicating pests and stressing over another big day, we got to spend it as a family with friends and relatives we love, and that’s really what Easter is all about to me anyway.

 

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.

The Weather Girl

In my previous life, I couldn't have given two hoots about the weather.

Thanks sallyjanevintage.blogspot.com for the pic!

All I needed to know was that there would be water in the taps every day, and how much hair product would be required to see me through the day. Too much wet weather or humidity affected the structure of a hair do, and the likelihood of packing an extra layer of clothing or umbrella when I left the house.

The weather certainly never factored into my conversations any more than 'how cool is this thunderstorm?!' or 'far out, if it keeps raining, I'm going to have to carry my heels into that club tonight', or 'how bad are my sweat patches in this shirt today?'

And I mean it when I say that NOT A DAY GOES BY when I don't think about or discuss the weather. I have four (yes, four) weather apps on my iphone. Some are better for temperatures, and others have better, more reliable radars. We check the radar almost daily on our home computer. I didn't even know what a weather radar was before I moved out here. I thought it was what you looked out for along the M1 so you didn't get caught speeding... Those were the days before I knew that there was any other kind of heat than humid heat.

CP and I often discuss how much easier life would be if you weren't reliant on the weather. If you are a teacher, or a nurse, or a lawyer, you don't need to concern yourself with trivial things like weather and temperatures. (It's a fallacy that you get to go home from school if the temperature hits 40 degrees, sorry kids). And it still seems pointless to me that people in rural areas rely on something that they have no control over. But it's all part of the planning process.

Planting crops, stock numbers and timing are all dependant on the weather. Anyone who eats fruit and veges, meat, grains, drinks milk, and any product derived from these things (including raw materials like cotton and wool etc.) will understand that the cost of a product is affected by external factors like flooding and cyclones, but the supply and demand of such products also affects prices. And it's not consumers losing sleep about supply and demand. It's the farmers.

So without getting into the nitty gritty about the extent to which the weather affects the functioning of the farming business as a whole, let me just some it up by saying that CP gets very cranky and tired easily when it's dry for an extended period of time, and he suffers from extreme cabin fever when it's wet for an extended period of time. So pretty much the general wish for people living on a farm is 'everything in moderation.'

Where we live, the average annual rainfall is something like 19 or 20 inches. Mostly we get that in a handful of showers. In the last 2 years we have averaged about 30 inches, (possibly a lot more this year). Everything is AMAZING and lush and green. Dams are full, and stock are happy. Stock happy = farmers happy.

It's amazing that discussion about the weather have become part of my daily vernacular.
"Hey you! Much rain out your way?" "Have any trouble getting into town on that road today?" "You guys looking for any more rain?" "How hot is it today?!" And even more amazing is the fact that I genuinely care about the answers.

Sometimes I forget though.

It's highly probable that I can get off the phone from a neighbour (after a half hour phone call) and CP will ask "How much rain did they get over there?" and I'll say "Ummm... I didn't ask?" and CP will respond with "Well what did you talk about for half an hour then?" (As if you couldn't possibly be talking about anything else?!) So I'll say "You know, facebook, the good looking guy who is working at that place etc."

So clearly I haven't been born with the worrying about the weather gene.

But I do like it when my farmer is happy.

Sing Us To Sleep

It's raining. Not much. But there's nothing more musical to a farmer's ears, than the sound of rain on a corrugated iron roof after a dry spell.

Our sheep are lambing at the moment.

We'll all be sleeping soundly tonight.

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?