Depression

The cold seems to shroud her with an unfathomable indifference to her surroundings. Her muscles shake and shiver uncontrollably, attempting to warm her from the inside out. Her body fights to emanate that heat throughout her but it's fighting a losing battle. It's as futile as pouring rain back into a cloud. The numbness she feels stems from within, from the deepest darkest depths of herself. Her physicality does not stand a chance against such a force, the enveloping indifference stops her feeling warm, feeling joy, feeling hope. She has nothing but a cold exterior to give to the world, a facade to hide the abyss of pain that yaws within her. It swirls and sucks as a black hole would, pulling her down into it, making her succumb to the fears and the doubts. It feeds off her inadequacies and the longer she spends stuck in the darkness the colder she gets. The more distance she puts between herself and others, because who could ever want to reach through all the darkness, the fear, the doubt and the bitterness to try and help her see the light? This is a battle she fights alone and it starts with warmth, with a shred of comfort, with a thought so small and so fragile, yet so filled with hope. Maybe...

The screen door slams with an almighty thwack as she walks back into the house. She squats down in front of the firebox with an easy strength and manoeuvres the kindling and the paper she set there so many days ago. She reaches for the matches, slides open the drawer and selects one. There's no criteria, no favouritism, it's just random selection and yet she can't help but wonder if one of the other matches would set her on a different path, a better path. As her muscles spasm from the aching cold again, she quickly strikes the match watching it flare into a radiant brilliance. It mesmerises her, the way it lights up and flickers and sways. No darkness and no pain, it dances down to her fingertips and it's not until it burns the very tips of them that she realises she hasn't lit the fire. She shakes the flame off her fingers and stares at the twisted blackened remnants of such a beautiful, light, joyous dance. It doesn't resemble that shining beacon in the slightest anymore, it's merely a shadow of a moment, smouldering in the remains of such an intense beauty. Blackened and twisted into the sooty mess that comes after. Mentally shaking herself by the shoulders she gets a grip on the next match. Maybe... Maybe this one? She strikes it and is careful not to let its seductive dance mesmerise her again, setting it to the paper she watches the flames lick across each other. She smiles as they meld into each other, creating a bigger better warmth, sending light into the sooty mess of the fireplace and her soul. As the small twigs are consumed by the heat and the light, she watches them fade into nothing but swirling ash and she feels the tug at her heart. The most blinding lights fade into the darkest shadows. At least she's lit it now though, that's more than she's done in a long time. Maybe... Maybe she thinks.

Depression is a very real thing in this industry. The seasons aren't always kind and that can be utterly heartbreaking. Debt can build to what seems to be an insurmountable mountain and the isolation can drive you nuts at times. I've often heard people say that the suicide rate in rural areas is much higher than urban areas. I am unaware if this is true, but I believe it could be due to two things. One, that people in the ag industry have easy access to ways to commit suicide. Two, that it's easy to shut yourself away from other people, letting the depression take hold. Many people will never admit that they struggle to the point of having depression but many people will self treat as well. It's amazing what the wind in your face on a motorbike can awaken in you, or taking time to watch a sunset. What we do has highly emotional consequences at times, what with euthanising, whole crops being taken by natural forces, or economic downturns. The trick is to be attentive to your moods, don't deny them or ignore them. When you feel yourself being pulled down and getting out of bed becomes a chore, that's when you take time out for yourself or do something satisfying because there are happy times in what we do as well. Watching sheep kick their heels up or play at head butt fights, seeing swallows dip through the air, watching a fleece being thrown through the air in the shearing shed. It's not all bad but you have to remember to look for the good some days. 

The Assault on Farmland

There is a huge difference between farm practices when looking at my grandparents generation, and the current farming generation. When my grandfather first started out on this farm with his brothers he cleared the bulk of the bush, scrub and trees with a cable blade dozer. It was all about clearing as much as possible to gain as much farmland as possible. (The sad part is, all those huge red gums were burnt as nobody wanted red gum timber when you could have jarrah!) Times change as we grow and learn, as resources diminish and different things become profitable. 

My fathers generation got to farm into cleared land with minimal problems to begin with. However, as time goes by the land obviously begins to show the long term effects of actions like clearing. With the removal of that much vegetation, that was tapping into the water table, comes a rise in that water table. For those of you who live in areas with constant and static water table levels this may be a different idea for you. Our water table fluctuates from winter to summer, with a low rainfall season it can stay low and that can affect our dam water supply quite seriously. There are sections of our farm that are low lying and have bores in them, the bore casing on these is above ground by at least a foot and in winter time the water level pushes up this casing to above ground level. This leaves parts of our farm too wet to crop in winter and with the rising water table comes salt. 

The bare parts in this photo are where the salt in the water table essentially burns any pasture that tries to grow. These are what we call salt scalds and they appear in salty creek lines and low lying areas. There are spots where rock lines beneath the ground stop water flowing and salt scalds can break out around these ridges as well. So clearing trees leads to salt problems which can make previously viable land uncroppable. If the land isn't growing anything, it's also unusable for stock. 

The change in practices is this, we now plant areas of our farm into salt tolerant trees. Sometimes blue gums or sheoaks, this method doesn't cure the salt but it can reduce the effects by pushing the water table down as they 'drink' the water. We also fence off areas of natural vegetation so that new trees can sucker up, thus ensuring those diminishing resources (timber and firewood) are being replenished as well. 

The sheep haven't been in this paddock while it was cropped and there are myriads of little gum trees suckering up. Today's job is to fix the fence around these trees to ensure the trees continue growing and to give us a better chance of halting the salinity problems. 

As times change and knowledge grows the practices we use alter, we adapt to that knowledge. We don't continue to do exactly what we've done for the past 50 years. We innovate, and attempt to make sure the land we farm is being utilised in a sustainable way. 

Hay Ewe, Let's Roll!

Once a year we head on out into the paddock and let the good times roll. Well... that's not entirely true, we have good times all year round. There is, however, a job that occurs once a year that has a whole lot to do with rocking and rolling. Welcome to the repetition of carting hay rolls! I'm very thankful that we don't produce whole paddocks of hay like some of the farms surrounding us. Here is why...

Firstly our crops are not specifically grown to become hay. On this farm we grow oats that we use as a standing fodder crop for our weaners. What does this mean? It means the lambs that have just come off mum are moved into a paddock of tasty and nutritious food at just the right height for nibbling! The only problem is that weaners aren't so good at walking through a standing crop. You can imagine that walking through a tangle of plants that are the same height as you can be a little tricky, this also means they can't really find their way to the dams very well. We get around this drama by using a contractor who cuts hay from the outside lap of the paddock and at regular intervals across the paddock. This means the little weaners can wander to their hearts content, they can find water, and there's hay to cart out of the paddock. We still have to push them to water to make sure they're all drinking but with 'footpaths' it becomes a far less arduous task. 

So, I get to rock on into the paddock with the little green tractor and it's forks.

I get to cruise around in the air con with my iPod playing (I can't imagine the days of no cabs or radios!) picking up these bales.

Yes, we were a little delayed in the carting, that's why there's a 'chomp' line around the bale. Thankfully they didn't do too much damage. When picking the bales up you have to be careful not to raise them too high as it can unbalance the tractor.

Once they're on the forks you don't have the best visibility for strainer posts so you try and line up from further back than usual. Eventually you end up with all the bales stacked in the hay paddock like this.

We store them end to end like this for minimal weather damage. When we store them in pyramids (two lines on the bottom and a third on top) we have to tarp them during winter as the water doesn't run off the stack properly. 

Now, most people would stack the hay onto a truck in the paddock, drive the truck to the hay paddock and use a second tractor to unload the bales. We didn't in this paddock as there were only 12 or so bales to collect and it was less than a km back to the hay paddock. Why am I grateful we don't grow whole paddocks of hay? Stacking hundreds of bales takes a very long time, not to mention how boring it can be driving around the same paddock hour after hour!! So, now you know how we let the good times roll! 

A Magical Evening

If you have the time I'd like to help you imagine something wonderful I experienced on Monday the 16th of December.

Imagine, if you will, clambering up into the harvester on a balmy evening with your father.

Sitting next to him and being able to chat over all the different things that have happened in the past week. How the weaners are going, where the ewes will end up after their summer drench. Assessing whether they need a summer drench, or if they are low enough on worms to hold off until the end of summer. The farming talk continues as we relax together, the front slowly picking up dollars upon dollars of canola seed. Munching into it like a big grasshopper and filling up the tank behind us. We watch a fox lingering out to the north of us, the swaths have obviously been providing easy dinner for him in the form of the ground dwelling quail. Speaking of which, we watch one fly flat out from just in front of the header, wings going a million miles an hour as he tries to get to safety 10 metres ahead. Only to find that we're coming for him again half a minute later. That's not all though, there are mice hopping ahead of us as well. The canola seed must be pretty tasty as we regularly watch them hopping away, until we see a shadow hovering over it. You don't even have to look up, you know that at the perfect moment the hawk will plummet and snatch the mouse up. The ecosystem is well and truly alive out in the paddock! 

Zoom in to see the hawk biding his time!

So, we reach the chaser bin and I head off in the beast to empty it so Dad can finish out the night on the header.

The sun is glowing through the clouds, fingers of warm light splaying up and out, a warm orange burning into the horizon.

The iPhone camera gets a work out as the black seed empties into the field bin.

I take the chaser bin back out at the pace of a pregnant elephant. My eyes are glued to the sunset, the beauty of it is truly awe inspiring. 

There's a few hours here where dinner and some awesome photo opportunities occur for me, but of course, the header driver needs sustenance so at 8:30 it's back out to the paddock I go.

The chaser needs emptying again, but this time it's the moonlight that floods across the creamy stubble. The day is cooling into night and there's the smell of moisture in the air. The sweet smell of storms building, and the soft breeze whispering against your arm as you hang it out the window of the ute. Half an hour later, the chaser is empty, the driver is fed, the header is refuelled and it's on we go again. It's at this point that I think of the song 'Harvest Time' by Luke Bryan. I put the song on and cruise back to the home farm in the dappled moonlight. The clouds glide across the silvery orb, the headlights piercing through the intermittent darkness. It's the most beautiful night I've had the privilege of witnessing in quite some time. So beautiful in fact that as I pull in the driveway I stop and revel in it. Sitting on the bonnet with the engines warmth seeping through me, the cool but not cold breeze filtering through the pasture, the warm moist smell emanating from everywhere around me and the moon taking it all in above me. As if that wasn't enough to make the night perfect... 

The mob of ewes in the front paddock decide that they'd like to know what I'm doing on this balmy evening, and so I'm resting on the bonnet looking up at the moon with 1,200 pairs of eyes reflecting around me. They circle the ute continuously, snuffling around literally 2 metres from my boots. They're obviously happy in their paddock and content to let their curiousity instead of their flight response come to the fore. This fact makes me impossibly happy, it's the most satisfying evidence of our stock management skills. If magic exists then this night would epitomise it, it was a truly surreal and amazing experience. I hope that my words have done it justice and the most beautiful part is that living on the land means I will experience it again. That, my friends, is why I love farming, the agricultural industry and tending to this beautiful land.

That Feel Good Feeling...

You know that feeling you get when something you try allows you to reap the benefits? That feeling where you have a little smile that just cannot be wiped off your face, coupled with what could be described as a full heart, and a puffed up ego. Think Toyota ads but not quite as corny... (I don't think I'm generally an egotistical person, but there are times when you have to stand up and take credit for the good things you've done.) 

Why did I have that feel good feeling? Well, this is a little bit of a shout out to my father as it wasn't me that instigated this farm management practice, I'm just lucky enough to learn from what he's succeeded in doing. See these big boofy wethers settling into their new paddock after a tasty orange drench? 

The paddock they're in is known as 40 acres, which is actually 24 hectares (Ha), ironic I know! It's a small area of land adjoining three different paddocks. The beauty of this paddock is that it consists of what were the low lying sections of each of the three surrounding paddocks. Now it's a low lying paddock that we've carefully tended to keep the kikuyu (lawn), clover and ryegrass growing prolifically in.
The clover and ryegrass goes ballistic in the winter period, as it's got such great moisture to set it's roots into. Then summer comes along and the kike, as we affectionately call it, goes nuts in amongst all the ryegrass and clover that's grown during winter. Kike is a summer pasture, it thrives on the heat and the small rains we get thoughout summer time. Ever noticed how your lawn doesn't grow much in winter? It basically becomes dormant in those cold months.

The long and leant over dry matter you can see here is the ryegrass. In reality it's almost knee height, but it falls over once it hays off. The dark dots through it are clover burr which sheep absolutely love to munch on! Finally, the green is the kike which, as you can imagine, is really quite tall when you think about the fact that it's growing through a few inches of ryegrass already. 

The feel good feeling comes from knowing that our farm practices have allowed us to lock up a paddock like this during winter. Granted, we can only lock up a paddock like this when we have a season that provides enough feed elsewhere to sustain our sheep. However, this year we can and did do it. Cropping this section of land is just not viable as the heavier winter seasons do waterlog it, but watching happy, healthy wethers stick their heads down and have a good feed on great tucker is just a good feeling. You can't beat that satisfaction, knowing that you've utilised the area of land to what could be it's full potential and that the sheep have the best possible condition. I won't say it's full potential as you never know what new innovations may come along. So, thanks Dad for showing me just what is possible when you think outside the box, or the fence lines in this case.

Ecosystems...

I don't normally sit and ponder the ecosystem I live in, but today I got a wake up call. I was dung sampling a mob of ewes in a patch of bush I don't often walk through. As I wandered slowly with my head down, shadows kept flitting above me. They weren't harassing me, just shadowing me. (Ironic, I know...) I looked up to find some adult wrens checking me out, assessing whether I was a threat or not. So I sat and waited and sure enough I got to see their nest and their little ones which were about the size of a tablespoon measure. They weren't threatened by me and this meant I got to sit around a metre from them and watch them go about their business, acting out their part of the ecosystem. 

We are all part of a bigger picture. From the insects in the grass to the birds that eat them. From the bees pollinating the spring flowers to the seeds they drop for the next season. From a bird perched on a sheep's back to an eagle feeding off a dead lamb. It is all interconnected and intricately woven together. 

As I sit on the verandah writing this I can see copious flies, spiders, birds, moths and butterflies, bobtail goannas, chooks, dogs, flowering trees, ants, and even a race horse goanna (a Bungarra as they're known down here). I can hear crickets and I don't know how many different bird calls and I know in the evening I'll hear frogs in the dam and maybe an owl or two. 

All of this tells me that we have a thriving ecosystem here, each part feeds off another. Whether it's the chooks water feeding the insects or the eggs feeding a goanna (not our preferred option for eggs, but it happens). Some of what we have here is introduced or man made, but the intricate web of life still thrives and that makes me smile. Contributing to a continuous cycle of life is what I personally aim for. Life on the land is all about making this land as sustainable as possible. 

Preparation Is Key

What does one need to be prepared in summer time on a farm in the south west of WA?

The first thing I do when I walk out the door in the morning is make sure I, personally, have everything I need. A hat for that harsh sun, sunglasses to stop the glare and to protect the eyes when riding a motorbike or fencing. Sunscreen, because getting seriously burnt is not a pleasant or healthy experience. Some days I need jeans, particularly the days I'm working in canola stubble. I need sock protectors every day, picking grass seeds out of your socks throughout the day is annoying, painful and time consuming. And of course, your boots of preferred brand and a work shirt. I make sure I have my phone with me at all times as the UHF radio doesn't reach from one block of land to the other, on the other hand I make sure I have the UHF radio as mobile reception is pretty patchy. I take a water bottle with me wherever I go, it's not as hot as the Pilbara but it's still warm enough to dehydrate your body. I always have a pair of gloves on hand and for those solo jobs I keep my headphones handy (following a slow mob of sheep up a laneway is rather boring without some good tunes). 

So now I'm protected and prepared for the day, which vehicle do I get in? Well, it could be anything; the work ute, the two wheel motorbike, the four wheel motorbike, the little tractor, the big tractor, the harvester, or any number of machines older than I am. I could even be on foot. If it's a motorbike I wear a helmet and I take my phone or a handheld UHF radio. The tractors and the harvesters are relatively self sufficient, however, we do legally have to have a fire unit in the paddock we are harvesting in. Which brings us to the work ute, this is the trusty steed that will go almost anywhere and carries everything we need to achieve any job that crops up. 

It holds (and I may have missed some things): 

A fire unit consisting of a 1000 litre tank and a fire pump, imagine finding a fire and having no way to put it out...

Petrol for the fire pump.

Fire lighter (a mix of petrol and diesel) and a fire bug in case we have to attend a fire and need to back burn for safety. Matches, a 4 litre water bottle, the fire rake, a shovel.

Behind the seat we have smoke goggles, fire overalls, and a first aid kit.

The chainsaw with premixed fuel and bar oil plus sharpening gear, earmuffs and safety glasses.

The tool box which holds any tool we could need plus a few more.

Hard wire for fencing, soft wire for twitching, fencing pliers, strainers and steel pickets (posts) plus the dolly required to bang them in

A heavy duty chain, rope, and ratchet straps.

Fly treatment, a knife, and almost always a 22 (rifle).

UHF and VHF radios. The local volunteer brushfire brigade runs off VHF, a work phone and it's car kit which provides better reception. 

So, now you know what we carry with us at all times. On top of that, every time we get in it we make sure it's got at least half a tank of diesel. Rocking up to a fire and getting stranded with no fuel is not a good look, let alone a good feeling. Every time it's fuelled we check under the bonnet for oil, coolant, and power steering fluid levels and we check the tyre pressures. Given we don't know exactly what will arise each day it's best to be prepared. With all of this gear I could potentially check the back paddock and the sheep in it. Let's say there's a fly blown sheep, I can treat it or put it down if it's too far gone. Maybe there's a tree on the fence. I can cut it off the fence, tow it away and strain it to keep the sheep in. If a fire started I could get there and have all the personal protective equipment required and the necessary equipment to fight it. I have a means of contacting home from practically anywhere. 

Preparation is key to our farming business because, if I can't handle any job that crops up I'm wasting valuable time or leaving a soul in pain while I find the necessary means to complete the job. When you leave the house you might check for your wallet/handbag, keys and sunnies. When we leave the house we check for a whole lot more! 

It's not all organisation and planning ahead though. We have a little fun along the way.

I find a little beauty every day. 

I have a laugh at at least one thing each day, watching sheep chase me is always amusing. 

We do our best to work smarter not harder. Moving these portable panels is painful without the trusty little John Deere. 

I get to work with big things every day!

If the big things I'm working with don't fit out the gate, well we pull the strainer post out don't we! Demolition is always on the cards.

Finally, I get to contribute to building new things on the farm that will last for years to come.

Picking Up The Pieces Of Your Heart (confronting images)

What would you think if you saw a 21 year old girl in jeans, a turquoise dust 'n' boots shirt, and Rossi boots walking toward a lamb with a rifle? What would you think as you watched her insert the magazine and flick the safety off? What would you think if you heard her ask her father for instructions on exactly where to shoot an animal to put it down as quickly and as painlessly as possible? What would you think if you watched this girl practice cutting an animals throat, on a sheep that's already been shot, so that she doesn't put a living animal through any unnecessary pain when a gun isn't at hand? What would you think as you heard the dull yet piercing thud of the bullet ending that lambs life? What would you think as you watch the last reflexes make the lambs body jerk and stutter? As their bowels release? As the blood leaves a stain on the ground? What would you think seeing her tow the carcass away from the mob of sheep? 

Would you be shocked? Would you be amazed? Would you think it was normal everyday life? Would you think it was despicable? Would you think 'why isn't a vet doing that'? Would you be proud to see a woman taking on that role? Would you turn away? Would it scar you or scare you? Would you cry or try and stop me? 

Let me tell you something. I have thought every single thought I just wrote, and more. I have questioned absolutely everything I do on this farm, and continue to do so regularly. In my opinion the facts are this; the human race desires and possibly even needs meat in their diet (I cannot attest to that scientifically, but I personally function better with meat in my diet). To provide this, animals will be farmed. That is a truth, an inescapable truth. The human race is too large to be supplied with meat through subsistence living. Not every person has the space or meets the requirements to humanely rear an animal to grow what they desire as far as meat is concerned. I ask you this, if you understand that farming animals is an inescapable truth, who would you prefer to rear your animals? Someone who questions the morality of what they do, who tries unendingly to improve the way their animals are cared for? 

There are practices within the stock industry that are not pretty, that are not necessarily painless. Never has the phrase 'cruel to be kind' applied to a situation so weIl. I am not suggesting that innovation is a bad thing, I fully support improving animal welfare wherever we can. What I ask of you is that you work with us. Work with the farmers, the transport companies, the live exporters, the abbatoirs and the stock men and women who handle the animals along their way to the plate; to ensure they live the healthiest, happiest and least painful life possible. 

The reality of what happens if you don't work with us, if you work with those who would impose all out bans on certain practices instead of making improvements, is harsh and horrible. If we are not allowed to mules a lamb, or don't have a more humane procedure for removing the wool from the tail region I can guarantee this is what will happen. 

This lamb died from fly strike before I could get to it to treat it or put it down.

This lamb is still alive. If your first reaction is to point the finger at me, hear me out. We breed our Merino sheep so that they have as little wrinkle as possible, so that they don't have fleece rot, so that they have as bare a breech (tail area) as possible. We manage our stock so they have the least amount of worms possible, which results in the least amount of dags possible. We remove anything we can that is appealing to a fly. We check our stock as regularly as possible to monitor any fly activity and treat anything we see on the spot, if it won't make it, we put the animal down. If you can see a flaw in the system we use, please point it out to me, as I'm happy to be shown a way that I could improve the life of stock on this farm. If you can't then please don't point your finger at a farmer, at a truckie, at a live exporter, or at a stock man or woman when you see something shocking like this. There is one thing I truly believe in and that is the way I feel when I have to put an animal down or see an animal that I haven't been able to care for properly. I trust that every person in the stock industry feels for animals the way I do, they wouldn't be in the industry if they didn't enjoy working with and caring for stock. 

Put yourself in my Rossi's for just a moment, that's all I need, just one moment. Imagine it's you slamming the ute door as you stride across the paddock with a rifle in hand. Imagine it's you that has to fight back tears as you see a poor weak animal struggling to stand because it's fly struck, because mum rejected it, because a fox has had a go at it. Imagine you have to deal with this regularly. Imagine feeling your heart break into a thousand pieces as you line up the spot on the back of their head and pull the trigger. Imagine it's you that has to help them out of their misery and it's you that takes the time to do it from behind so they don't see it coming. So they're not scared. Now imagine having to steel your soul as you walk to the second animal and do the same for it. Imagine feeling your heart shatter more than once in a day. Now imagine something worse than that, imagine finding an animal freshly dead, an animal you'd specifically gone back to treat or put down. Imagine knowing it suffered because you weren't quick enough, because you didn't have a knife or a gun with you to start with. The pain that rips through your heart and your soul when you can't help an animal is irreparable, it leaves a mark. Imagine it's you that takes yourself out to the back paddock at the end of a day like this. That you sit there for an hour crying until you feel like vomiting, that the keening noise you make scares the birds out of the trees. Worse still, imagine an industry that doesn't have people that care for animals this much.

All I ask of you as a 21 year old woman in the stock industry is not to fight us in our efforts to help these animals live healthy, happy lives, but to work with us. Donate to companies that are trying to increase animal welfare; by testing new alternatives to mulesing, by improving the ships animals are exported on, by educating the abbatoir workers overseas, by using stock crates on trucks that are more user and stock friendly, by providing courses for improving stock handling. Support those that are actively involved in improving animal welfare, those that are having a positive effect in the industry. I would not want to be part of a world that pushes for restrictions to be placed on the stock industry that result in farms and stations going bankrupt, that results in people not having the cash flow to feed their animals, that maybe even results in such a severe lack of funds that buying bullets to put animals down is not possible.

Never A Dull Moment!

I guess one could say my creative streak is back in play and that's why there's such an inundation of posts at the moment. That's true, but in reality we've been so tied up with 21st party preparations that farm work fell by the way side for a few weeks. We're well and truly back on track now though! 

Can you guess where I found this petrified parrot? 

I often tell people who come to the farm that there's never a dull moment; Monday the 2nd of December proved that to me in full! As you saw in the inner circle it was a Com-Monday with rubber camouflage, we were shifting bins and getting harvest cranked up which is always exciting. Amongst these movements I was doing the last training or imprint feed for the weaners. We only have one mob of ewes and lambs left to wean and one could say it was an eventful sheep feed... There I am diligently putting my hand up the chute on the sheep feeder. Why would I do that? Well, we had a chunk of mouldy old oats in the feeder from last years crop that came out of the field bins we were moving. (As much as I'd like to say things like this never happen, we're not perfect, we stuff up!) So you can picture me underneath the feeder, my hand up the chute pulling out handfuls of hot, black, mushy grain that smells something like a mix of mouldy washing that's been left too long in the basket, pickled onions, and off beer. It's thoroughly disgusting and doesn't wash off your hands very well, but every now and again getting dirty is great fun! Around 5 Litres of 'gunk' later I stick my hand up and grab automatically, only to feel something soft and fluffy... Immediate reaction is 'get your hand the hell out of there!' My brain goes into overdrive thinking something along the lines of 'there must be a rat in here', how I thought a rat would climb into the sheep feeder I've no idea. It's safe to say I wasn't thinking logically in that split second. So I take a look and this is what I find...

Somehow a parrot had ended up dead and thoroughly dessicated in the sheep feeder! Dull moment? Never!! (Did you guess it?)

I also got to play with a 'decoy' duck as I checked the dams to make sure no stock were stuck in them. 

These ones were on the dam, ducklings and one parent. 

That dark blob is the other parent duck playing decoy to draw my attention away from the babies. I got as close as I could to him/her as you'll see. 

Until she/he took off at a vast rate of knots!

I then proceeded through the rest of my morning with a hand looking like this...

Sometimes what the farm throws at you is disgusting, sometimes it smells, sometimes it's itchy, sometimes it's heartbreakingly sad, sometimes it's great fun, and sometimes it's heartwarming. Regardless of what it is, it's never ever dull! 

Welcome to the Inner Circle...

The inner circle of what you may ask? I'm sure many of you have had to pull ALL the way off the road for a field bin to come past you at a grand total of 50 kms an hour. (Well that's what our little windy gravel roads allow, if you're in the wheat belt you can call us slow!) Have you ever seen inside the field bin though? 

First things first, these are our two field bins, the old 9G and the truck that are integral to our grain operation. 

The 9G is a beautiful old tractor, they just don't build them like this anymore. The motor still runs like a charm, the rubber on the steering wheel is giving way a little though... 

Trying to wrestle the old girl with no power steering left me with lots of 'black' on my hands to kick off 'com-Monday'. (You've got to have a little fun ;) )

So, this morning we escorted bin number one to the canola paddock we'll start in! Very exciting, we're a little later starting than we'd like but it won't have damaged the crops at all. We also emptied bin number two and I hosed it out.

Welcome to the interior of the field bin, I'm standing on the mesh safety cage that stops people ending up in the auger accidentally. The bin is angled down at the bottom and the auger swallows the grain and sends it up to the spout and out into the truck or whichever transport vehicle you're using. (As seen in the first shot)

iPhone panoramas are fantastic, this is what I see when I'm cleaning out the field bin. Between each variety or crop type the bins get methodically and meticulously cleaned. As those of you who work at CBH know it's important not to have any contaminants in the grain. This can be anything from rocks or sticks to canola in barley or vice versa. Clean samples are the key to good harvest and profits!

This is about how much grain we lose out of the bottom of the bin each time we hose it out and unfortunately it's always a  soggy job and often an itchy job when working with barley and oats.

How does the auger run? It's run by a PTO or a power take off shaft. Most tractors will accommodate this shaft. So you back it in, slide it on and keep your hands clear of the fast spinning universal joints! 

That my friends is the inner circle of field bins! I apologise if you already knew all of that and if you didn't then I hope you're better informed and enjoyed the photos. :)