Farming is not for the feint hearted.

Today I learnt more about what real farming is all about. While all week I have been helping around the farm, assisting with whatever job needs doing, from checking livestock to fencing, it has all been fun. Today I saw the results of two years of fleece collection and the marketing process. It has finally hit home. To be a farmer you have to have a job. I mean something other than farming to pay the bills. Farming is something you do for love, not money. Unless you have land of such a size that you can realistically farm quantity and retain quality at the same time....ethical farming needs space to flourish. We started our day early with the task for the day being to bale the fleeces from New Years Eve, then take them to the wool buyer. Two hours later, after collecting and baling the fleeces, then helping to recapture an escaped ram we were on the road with 5 bales of fleece in the trailer. This is two years of product from our flock. The wool buyer pays between 10c per kilo for daggy wool to $7-9 per kilo for top quality Merino fleece. Black Faced Suffolk's are considered eating sheep with their fleeces a by product. With wool quality less than Merino or Merino crosses, around the $4 mark is what is paid for a kilo of fleece from the Black Faced Suffolk's. Slightly more for lamb fleece as would be expected. Bales range in weight from around 90kg to 180 kg depending on the quality control of sorting and dag removal etc. The local rural newspaper only reinforces my thoughts, with the Tasmanian Country advising that DAFF has increased its shed registration fees from $500 last year to $8500 this year. From what I can work out the Government has increased the fee for those producers wanting to export their product, in this instance cherries, so that they comply as a registered exporter. That is a huge increase in fees. Perhaps DAFF should rename themselves DAFFY! We arrived home mid afternoon with a trailer load of mulch to add to the garden. I had started weeding during our Christmas visit, only to return and find that weeds were again taking over. So, mulch is the best option to try and control the regrowth in our absence. Luckily for us Harold called in to say hi, so while he shovelled mulch from the trailer to the wheelbarrows, Frank delivered them to me and I raked them across the garden beds. So much quicker with three on the job - so thanks Harold! The cold beer at the end of it went down a treat too. I am still admiring how good the garden is looking after our efforts. 6.4.2013

Easter on the farm.

Easter in Tasmania is glorious. The days have been sun filled, with a gorgeous breeze. This has allowed lots of time for exploring and working around the farm. It seems that there is always something to do and I am happy to get in and help with whatever task is out in need of doing. Yesterday's tally included some fence repairs, washing the Jeep - lots of fun with a gurney and bubbles, some gardening and as for each day we are here, checking on the livestock. The flock of sheep has been reduced somewhat as it is hard to properly care for animals when you are not on site. That said, the Black faced Suffolk's remain as does Lily. As one of the hand raised lambs, Lily holds a special spot on the farm acting as our mascot. She comes when called, ever hopeful for a hand out, but the rest of the flock follow her, and I can now identify Sweetpea and Jessie. No mean feat when they look so similar. They too will come over to say hi, but move away again if there is no treat on offer. The cattle are looking well, and Boris the bull has done his job well with four calves so far this season. Molly and Mindy have a little black calf each, Carmel has one also and the panda faced cow has a little calf the spitting image of herself. All in all, farm life is pretty special. I always feel a million miles away from any worries or concerns here. Nature works her magic to refocus how you look at life, which is pretty amazing.

Farm girls

Couldn't resist sharing these photos of some happy farm girls I spent time with on my recent visit to Tasmania. Sweetpea, a Black faced Suffolk

Lily, a Merino cross

and while Jessie (another of the Black Faced Suffolks was being camera shy on this particular occasion, for me the smile says it all.

New Years Eve

With shearing finally finished it was time to get the sheep and lambs back together. Plan being to open two gates and let them meet up mid point en route to the large paddock with the dam. Plenty of fresh grass and water. A joyous reunion was had by all with lots of bleating and talk happening. The perfect way to end a long day. For me, lots of new skills to add to my cv - wool puller and wool classer extraordinaire. No insult intended for the experts as I am sure that to become a professional wool classer there is lots of study involved. That said, I can now distinguish a fleece from a Merino versus a Black Faced Suffolk. Pretty good going for this city girl! As for the humans - a cold beer went down really well to end what was a really long day. Did I see in the New Year? No, exhausted I hit the sack at my usual, unfashionably early hour....with a smile on my face.....what a day!

Shearing to see out the year.

Shearing is plain, old fashioned hard work. It seems to me that shearers are undervalued, yet simultaneously form a group that are dying out. Problem is that the task they perform is one of the few that can't be totally mechanised, yet prices are fixed by the shearers union. Bit of catch 22 happening. That said, being involved in shearing for the day was an incredible experience and one I will long remember. Work kicked off at 7.30am with one shearer working solidly through the day. Bringing his own shears, blades and oil with him, he set up in the shearing shed and set to it. Working from a sling which supports his weight, the shearer works bent over, holding the sheep between his legs, pinioned by his body as he works. The other essential piece of equipment is the booties worn to shear. Made from inverted sheepskin these are apparently the ultimate for someone on their feet all day. That said, their look is so unique they will never take off as the ultimate fashion accessory....will leave that to Ugg boots. Generally a fleece is removed from an adult in close to one piece. Then the fun starts. The fleece is picked up from the floor by one "leg" then another, and with a flick of the wrist, is thrown across a special table, with the external side of the fleece facing up. The table looks somewhat like a huge abacus on its side, minus the beads, with timber slats across the surface which the fleece is draped across ready for picking over. My job then was to work my way around the edges of the fleece, removing any bad wool. This could be dirty fleece, wool imbedded with grass seed and other gunk. These sections are pulled by hand and added to a bin on the side. Once the whole fleece is picked over the fleece is then rolled in on itself, exposing the freshly cut wool and put into a bale bag on a rack. Each consecutive fleece is added to the bag as it is prepared until you have a bagful of beautiful fresh wool, making sure not to mix e Merino cross with the Black Faced Suffolk fleeces. A good shearer has fleece removal down to a fine art, retrieving and shearing a sheep in about the same time it took me to pull the fleece. It was then a race to see whether I could bundle and bale the fleece before the shearer had flicked a new fleece onto the slatted table ready for pulling. This process went on for hours. I escaped middle of the day to run an errand to Oatlands returning over an hour later....status unchanged....shearer still working....fleeces still being pulled and baled. We stopped at about 1.00pm for lunch, thinking we were done for the day only to find that the lambs too had to be shorn. Yikes. As for the rams, we waited for backup for those. With the size of these guys and the fact that they are pretty cantankerous no one was going to be dumb enough to tackle them single handed. One ram gave us the run around to the max taking off and clearing the railing in the pen in his bid for freedom. Each time he was tackled and brought back he again sailed over the fence and disappeared into the far paddock. It eventually took three burly blokes, a four wheel drive, a quad bike and a dog to reign him in and get him in for shearing. Most entertaining to watch. I think it was a lucky thing I was out of range of ear shot, as I can only imagine the conversation taking place as this little scenario worked its way out.

Lamb whispering

There is nothing sweeter than waking to the sound of the sheep talking. Until you realise that one is a lot closer than it ought to be. With a number of paddocks surrounding the farmhouse, you get good at gauging where the sheep are. They tend to stay close together and the volume of noise is melodically consistent. So, to hear one dissenter in the crowd makes you sit up and take note. Translate that as leapt out of bed and go to investigate. So, it was no surprise to see one lamb wandering the home paddock (that is, where the sheds are located, vehicles and equipment are stored) mournfully crying out for Mum. I closed the gate to confine him to that area, then pondered my next move. Luckily for me he headed in the right direction, moving towards the gate securing the main paddock where the rest of the flock were. I like to think it was my lamb whispering ability, then again, it could have been the site of me in gumboots and t-shirt so early in the morning. Either way, he headed exactly where I needed him. Thankfully there was a happy ending.....as with visions of opening a gate to return one lamb and 200 others heading out of the gate in the opposite direction was inconceivable. The lamb wiggled and pushed and somehow managed to squeeze back through where the gate joins the fence, to run straight to Mum for some comforting. No squeezing through for me though, so I opened the gate and went through to see how everyone was. When I was visiting the farm last it was just in time for the lambing. Now this batch of tiny wee things have had a couple of months of feeding with Mum, lots of summer grass and sunshine and they are thriving. Most lambs are now almost half the size of their Mums which makes for some fun antics when they feed, which they still do. Have you ever seen a sheep do star jumps? I witnessed just this thing when rather large twins decided to hit Mum up for a feed. One each side, head butting to stimulate the flow of milk was enough to raise her back legs off the ground. To see her tolerate this for a few minutes was the most entertaining thing I have seen in some time. Finally having had enough, she moved off with twins following after her. The bond between the sheep and their young is strong, with family units very much sticking together. Lily has again proven herself to be a great Mum, and her lamb Roger is now a hefty young lad. Lily was one of the hand reared lambs from a few years back, and she is by far the friendliest, coming when you call her. She will let me touch her, although Roger remains at a safe distance on the other side of Mum. Jessie, one of the Black Faced Suffolk sheep will also come and say hi....she just takes a little longer to come forward but will do so when she is ready. Another of the Black Faced Suffolk's Sweet Pea has also decided to make friends this trip. Seeing a couple of hundred sheep flooding up the hill to the top of the paddock where you are standing is quite awe inspiring. Turns out they thought I had food, so they happily came up to say hi, swarming around me bleating. Getting up close and personal is a great way to start the day, so happy ending for all.