Building a Shelter

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all mod cons

For almost three years our shelter on the farm has consisted of a 6 metre  container and a hand built bush shed. We share the shed with enough tools to give Bunnings some competition, a tractor, a contrary quad bike, seasonal waves of rodents and layers of mud or dust depending on the weather. Tucked into the back of the shed are a range of storage containers holding about 200 litres of various vehicle fuels. A cap left off and a small spark could leave us heading heavenward. It's OK though because at least the diesel doesn't ignite like that so I only worry about petrol.

We try to stay linked to the 21st century, we can boil water and power a few lights with a generator and our collapsible camp chairs create an impression of happy domesticity.  There is a thermometer nailed to a post in the shed and when the mercury slips below double digits there is only one option- put on another layer and work harder to keep warm. There is another emergency option -  and that is to pack up and go home.  The trouble is our plans are for the farm to be our new home, but walls of rusty corrugated iron just don't cut it.

as good as it gets

So we embarked on 'The Project' and set in motion plans for a new house. We decided on a gently sloping site and with the help of an architect and a team of builders set to work. Obstacle number one soon emerged, the 'gentle' slope was too steep for trucks to negotiate. That was quickly put right with the help of an excavator that wouldn't have looked out of place on one of Genia Rinehart's iron ore plots.

Mining in the Pilbara or our house site 

Obstacle two quickly became our road with four names, it created chaos with deliveries.
We know to turn a deaf ear to the calming tones of the lady in our GPS when she insists that we are 'off road, make a U turn where possible',  because despite having four names and the assistance of 4 tracking satellites our road does not exist in the global positioning universe.

Truck loads of bricks and windows turned up days late when drivers lost their way.

'once was a gentle slope'

Slowly our new home began to materialise from our laser levelled  'once was a gentle slope'  and the cattle somehow slipped through the fence and became our first official visitors.

'The Project' has been underway for 10 months, we have walls, a roof and some windows.

In by Christmas is the call - I just hope Santa's reindeer navigational system is fail-safe.

first visitors

home on the range

     

Keeping up with Mother Nature

If you are nor seeing this at it's technical best Google  Apple Gully Farm

Winter is the time to catch up or even get ahead of mother nature,  the weeds take a breather,  things slow down, at least that’s what we thought.

Now that the yearling steers had gone off to market we were expecting to settle into a quiet winter with only our remaining cows and two of their heifers.  The cows are all pregnant and being old hands at the pregnancy thing will be calving in early Spring.  Good animal husbandry tells us that the heifers are too young to breed just yet, but like all adolescents they have other ideas. 

Recently we had a refresher course on what it is like to live with teenagers and their hormones.  Our older heifer began to bellow and act just like a skittish teen, she ran up and down the fence line, she hassled the rest of her herd and she kept the bellowing going on and off all day, it became maddening, drilling through our ears and echoing over the hills.  

She was a girl on a mission driven by mother nature or more precisely - hormones. The racket continued,  and sure enough it had the desired effect - the boys in the neighbour’s property appeared at their fence.  In a move straight out of the nursery rhyme ‘the cow jumped over the moon’  three of the neighbours cattle sailed over the fence and onto the road. I now know what it must be like to be a security guard at the shopping mall on a Saturday afternoon. Out of nowhere and just on dusk our heifer came barreling down the hill and she too flipped over a low section in the fence, looking more like an Olympic hurdler than a heifer.   With that they all bolted into the dusk together for a night on the town.

Next morning a distant and very hoarse mooing led us into the bush where a tired, thirsty young heifer was happy to see us and more than willing to come home.   Picture the mascara running, and the high heels being carried and you have a vision of our girl tottering through the gate and back to her herd.  They greeted her with much head butting and a general celebratory romp around the paddock.

    'Go girl, that's the way- you've already got the boys falling at you feet and they're only steers. 

     Wait till you you see a real bull.'   they seemed to be saying.

 Luckily the neighbourhood lads were all just young and silly steers.  BUT in another 24 days time the cycle will begin all over again.  Another winter job, keep ahead of mother nature -- check all fences and keep the boys at bay.

The Summer that wasn't

 if you are not seeing this at it's technical best click on    http://lplatefarmer.blogspot.com.au/
or just Google   'Apple Gully Farm'

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.

Snake Bite - the outcome

if you aren't seeing this at it's technical best click on   http://lplatefarmer.blogspot.com.au/
or just google 'Apple Gully Farm'

In week 1 following the snake bite, the calf lurched back and forwards from death.  Its impossible to find the bite site in a hairy animal, but it must have been around the mouth. His nose swelled up and broke out in blisters, he had enormous difficulty swallowing, his tongue was paralysed making it impossible for him to suckle, in fact he seemed to have lost a young animals instinct to suckle. He walked with an exaggerated high stepping gait. Interestingly he could still moo so he bellowed himself hoarse. He was definitely blind as he continued to bump into fences and trees.   So where to for a calf who can't see and can't drink or eat?

the junior members of the herd with 'snake bite'

It was obvious that he would not survive without hydration, we gave him milk and water 10 ml at a time from a syringe. Amazingly his mother, a big Hereford who normally wouldn't tolerate a human closer than 1 or 2 metres, let us milk her in the early days. Some days the calf tentatively drank out of a bucket, he even tried to drink out of the dam.  He regained some vision and managed to walk around trees and not blunder into the dam and drown.

In week 2 he took a big set back, he seemed to become so weak and depressed that he was barely able to walk, he stopped even trying to bellow and refused to drink, all the hard work was coming to nothing. Towards the end of the week we found him flat on the ground, neck stretched out and his breathing  shallow - the end seemed near.
The calf was desperately dehydrated and goodness knows what the snake venom was doing internally
the list of effects of snake bite is scary

• coagulation is inhibited
• renal failure
• myotoxicity - muscle destruction, including diaphragm, heart and lung muscle
• double or blurred vision
• neurotoxic paralysis

the normal treatment,  for a human that is -- 'administer anti venom as soon as possible to neutralise the venom'

but we didn't have that option.  Instead drastic dehydration measures were called for and the litany of lethal effects would just have to wait.

No time to find a 'non irritating radiopaque polyurethane tube with a Y adapter for feeding' in it's place we had a plastic funnel, (that I worried had been previously used to fill a fuel can !)  a metre of plastic tubing, 4 litres of water and 2 litres of milk. We had our feeding tube. The calf was too weak to resist, so down the tube went and 6 litres of fluid gurgled through the funnel into his empty rumen.
We waited not expecting much.

Then a small miracle happened, about 2 hours later the calf stood up. As he stumbled along he bumped into his mother and inadvertently discovered her bulging udder, instinct must have taken over at about the same time as the paralysis lessened, he tentatively started to suckle.

In the third week he made steady progress. His sight improved, he began to walk normally and he was totally enjoying being back at his free milk bar, he even started to nibble some grass.
Cows aren't meant to have a great brain but his mum is obviously delighted, she licks him from head to tail, nuzzles him and generally doesn't let him out of her sight, they take their morning and afternoon naps cuddled up together and the herd is back to normal.

mother and son back in the paddock together

Snake bite trivia picked up along the way
a boa constrictor knows how long it takes to squeeze the life out of it's victim by detecting it's decreasing heart rate
a snake senses smell in stereo- through it's forked tongue- it moves to attack on the side with the strongest smell or it retreats away from the smell
snakes also sense heat and vibration in stereo
snakes cleverly over stimulate clotting using up all the blood coagulant factors resulting in both massive internal clotting and bleeding.

I'm a survivor !

SNAKE BITE in cattle

 

if you aren't seeing this at it's technical best click on         http://lplatefarmer.blogspot.com.au/
or just google 'Apple Gully Farm'
    
Sharks, snakes, spiders, blue ringed octopus, sting rays, cane toads, even the humble platypus. One of the privileges of living in Australia is our ability to boast about our venomous animals. A tourist's visit is complete only after they have visited an animal park full of our dangerous fauna.

Down on the farm we crash about in the bush where the occasionally sighted snake seems as bothered by us as we are of them,  we go our separate ways --  quickly, mutual respect I think it's called.

Our cattle spend all their days foraging around with their noses down in the grass and up until 2 weeks ago they too had managed to avoid our venomous fauna.  Until, that is, at dusk one Friday we noticed a 3 month old calf acting strangely, flicking it's ears and shaking it's head. Over the fence I went, and the normally wary 100 kg animal allowed me to walk right up to it, hold it's head and even check it's drooling mouth, it lent against me in a effort to stay upright.

Within 45 minutes paralysis had set in and it collapsed. These things always seem to happen at night or on a weekend- this was both. Though we had never witnessed the effects of a snake bite, intuitively it seemed the only possibility.

Snake bite  victim in ambulance with worried herd members looking on

Had this been a human, a loved pet or a valuable stud animal the available option is treatment with antivenom - at $600/ vial with 1 - 5 vials required.  So, what do city farmers do with a calf worth no more than $200?


Accepted wisdom is -- work out the economics and leave it to nature.
Early next morning the calf was still alive- just.

Google was no help, all it could offer was

        'Little has been described about the effects of snake bite in cattle. 

        Possibly because of their sheer clumsiness, 

       they may receive multiple bites and thus severe envenomation.'    

So we decided the little bull calf deserved a fighting chance. Google also needed the opportunity to update it's information on snake bite in cattle.


A compromise was made -- no anti venom, but as one half of the farming team is a small animal vet, everything else would be considered.
A rusty trailer in the shed became the intensive care ward.

emergency nurses working with the vet

The bellowing mother had alerted the neighbours, the kids were upset and eager to be nurses, the adults were bemused and interested to watch a city vet out of his comfort zone.  No sterile procedures here - no gloves, no masks, no monitors, just dirt, hay and rust.
The intravenous drip was nailed to a pole and we waited. 


 Within an hour the saline and glucose fluids were enough to rouse the calf. It was winched to it's feet and attempted to stagger out of the trailer. 
It was moving with an awkward high stepping 'goose step' gait and seemed to have an uncontrolled cud chewing action, grinding and drooling incessantly. Disoriented, it staggered around blundering into things -
      it was alive but blind. 

visiting hours in intensive care

The Best Laid Plans

The year has nearly finished, so much has happened down in Apple Gully and now it's Christmas.
We know it's Christmas because Marilyn our feral fruit tree has changed her spring looks for a suitably brassy but classy Christmas makeover.

Marilyn the feral fruit tree last Spring      

We also know that we are are into the festive season for another reason - one that we had not given enough thought to.
We now know that 'while shepherds watched their flocks by night'  probably has some basis in necessity as well as scanning nicely in a Christmas carol.  

We have, as you know, a fledgling herd of fine Herefords and though they are not fashionable we like having them. Everyone in our part of the world grows black Angus cattle because they do better in the sale yards.   But we can't help thinking that once McDonalds tries to supersize you up to a Mighty Angus burger that the trend has run it's course.  So we're a bit retro with our copper coloured cows, but retro is cool and the girls put on weight just by looking at a blade of grass.

Marilyn dressed for summer with mighty Angus burgers in the background

Last season we had a midnight visit from the neighbour's bull and a fine little out of sync heifer resulted, but the bull has since been sold so our guard was down.   Plans for a Hereford rent-a-bull had been put in place, our girls were to be shipped over to him and a good time was promised for all.  For no particular reason because we can, we decided to preg test the girls and -- you guessed it they are all pregnant again. Another phantom bull is on the loose.  A friendly visit to our over the fence neighbours left us none the wiser, they have no bulls. So our rogue has wandered in from who knows where, jumped numerous barbed wire fences, not just once but multiple times as he got at each of the girls in turn and then, exhausted he must have staggered back over the barbed wire.

So Merry Christmas to you all and just remember that 2000 years ago they didn't know who the father was either, but it started a new trend. We think we're onto something.  

It seemed like a good idea at the time-   Merry Christmas

Sweet and the not so sweet

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You might think nothing much happens down on the farm in winter, maybe not below ground, but we humans and  the daffodils are as busy as. Our farm was once a market garden and the legacy each September is a vision straight out of Wordsworth's poem.


     When all at once I saw a crowd,
     A host of golden daffodils...
     Ten thousand saw I at a glance
     Tossing their heads in sprightly 
     dance     


Daffodils are toxic to animals, but they seem to know not to eat them, in fact daffodils are about the only plant that grows completely untouched by any critter in the Australian bush, they thrive on neglect and repay you five fold. The wombats insist on taking short cuts through them, leaving flattened tracks like straight crop circles- if you know what I mean and it's easy to see where the kangaroos take their short cuts because every two meters there is a flattened patch as they hop along. That still leaves plenty for the humans to appreciate -

That's the hereford telling me not to eat those yellow things

      For oft, when on my couch I lie
      in vacant or in pensive mood,
      They flash upon that inward eye
      which is the bliss of solitude.         
                   thanks to W Wordsworth



From bliss to brew...
We've decided to go into home brewing, we have a recipe, it calls for a 200 Litre barrel, that's more than the old 44 Gall drum. So our brew is going to be a seriously large scale production, especially for first timers.
The first hurdle was locating a barrel, one that could be sealed, yet able to be modified for brewing with a gas vent. The barrel hunt led to a deal that seemed too good to be true - $330 new or $12 on Ebay, it was of course a no brainer . The only problem turned out to be where the barrels had been before they were loaded into the back of my car-
and that was a pickled onion processing plant!
I quite like a pickled onion with a slice or two of sharp cheddar, but these barrels had spent way too long in the pickle factory. By the end of the 45 minute trip home my eyes were watering and I was dizzy with pickle fumes, I had become a walking pickle. Three days later the car still smelt as if it was part of a ploughmans lunch order.

In fact the onion smell was the last thing we needed to worry about, because the brew is not for human consumption. We're brewing our own fertiliser down here on the farm. The recipe is worth noting-
      first gather 50L fresh cow dung - it must be fresh.  To that is added yeast, molasses,  milk
      rainwater -  ( no chlorine) and lots of other secret ingredients.
The whole thing is gently stirred, well as gently as you can stir 200L of brown goop and then sealed.  There is one vital modification to the barrel, and that is an air lock to let off the gas from this monster of a brew. If you have ever tried making ginger beer or regular beer in the laundry and had a bottle or 3 explode, you can only imagine what 200L of cow poo brew would do if .....  !!!!

photo:  Milkwood Farm

Our brew must now sit for two months while the microbes and yeast do their magic. We've been assured that when we open it our senses will not be assaulted with a foul smelling concoction, instead we'll have a fine vintage fertiliser, clear and golden in colour and sweet smelling too. We'll keep you posted.