The Summer that wasn't

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You're never short on conversation in the bush if you have a rain gauge, ours is screwed onto a gate post and this summer all we seemed to do was empty it.    The rain gauge conversation  can take place anywhere - over the front gate or between two drivers going in opposite directions on the road is as likely as any,  you just stop on the road when you recognise the oncoming vehicle. On our dirt road we all know each other, so if and when a third ute arrives there's no impatient honking of horns, the driver just gets out and joins the conversation.
The rain conversation goes like this-
"20 ml in the rain gauge last night"
"ah, we only had 17"
"yer, and across the road- they got 22"
"good for the pasture heading into autumn"
"yer, but hear the bloke down the road has an outbreak of liver fluke"
"yer bloody wet under foot with all this rain"

When you're a farmer it's wise never to be too overjoyed by mother nature, even when she is in a generously benign mood.

The truth is we have had serious rain this summer as those who live near flooding rivers know only too well.  Our rain gauge maxes out at 160 ml, but a few weeks ago the water level was at the top and overflowing and that was just over night!  We guestimated another 10 ml- so that's  nearly 7 inches in 12 hours in the old system.

The road was a disaster, most of it was probably down the creek and well on it's way to the Pacific Ocean the morning after the mighty downpour.  The force of the water running down our hills scoured out a couple of thousand years worth of top soil in places and the cattle were looking totally fed up with the soggy conditions.


From past experience our neighbours knew that if they wanted their road repaired and the culvets cleared they would have to do the work themselves. So when things get boggy- the bogged get going.    By lunch time four farmers with various skills and four tractors of various vintages had completed a job that might have taken a local council three months to start and three weeks to complete.

Thanks to La Nina  the countryside has changed dramatically-  the frogs are loving it and of course so are the snakes, it's a pile your plate up  never ending  smorgasbord-a-thon for them,  however it does mean that long pants and boots are de rigueur for all humans.   I've taken to stomping very loudly through the bush to give the snakes plenty of time to get out of the way.

Oh and did I mention leeches,  slimy, black, blood sucking parasites that stalk their prey in search of their favourite dish. At the slightest whiff of blood they drop from overhead branches, they wave from blades of grass and they inch along the ground intent on only one thing - a nice patch of warm skin. It doesn't even have to be exposed skin, down your front or up and over your boots will do   You seldom realise  one has attached itself  because they kindly inject local anaesthetic into their victim just before they settle in for a meal. However they leave a vicious calling card in the form of an itch at the bite site that lasts for days  - - and yes I'm itching while I type.  I can report that salt works if you find one, you just need to carry a salt shaker round with you - and I do!

Just in case you're confronted with a wily leech this might be useful and you'd be right if you guessed that Australia features well up in the leech tables.    http://www.invertebrate.us/leech/info/leech.pdf
this has me hoping I never need leech therapy  http://www.Leechtherapy.com.au/

Spare a thought for those who make their homes underground. The wombats have had a miserable time with La Nina, no sooner do they excavate a new hole and tear up our paddocks, than they fill with water and it's time to move on yet again. Bits of our farm are starting to resemble the Somme.