Sharing's Caring

Thank you to everybody who has shared this blog. Sharing is the way these things work, otherwise I'm justing talking to myself. If you like what you read please tweet, Facebook or email it to your mates. The more people outside our agricultural circle we can reach the better. Don't forget to have a look at the other blogs I'm following too. Everyone has a story to tell.

Saturday, 29 October 2011

She said what??????

Just when you think you seen it all comes this little gem taken from the International Movement for the Banning of Live Export, or IMBLE, a closed group on Facebook who plan to change the world with their letter writing and general whingery. A closed group means only members can see what's being discussed. But we have our spies in there, more for a laugh thatn anything. But this one knocked us for six.

Apparently dieing from fever and ulcers is alot kinder than the slaughter house. Who knew? And burning piles of animal corpses are much better smelling than those stinking ships, trucks, abattoirs and feedlots. Of course, it's only one person's opinion, but it is scary what some people actually think, isn't it? God forbid it ever happens here.

Maybe they should rename the group International Movement for the Banning of Everything that Could Involve a Living Entity Slaughtered.


I'd go on, but I'm speechless.

Sunday, 16 October 2011

Rain, Hail, but no %@#$ing Shine!!

On of the certainties of farming is the uncertainty of the weather. You can be certain that certain operations requiring certain weather conditions will certainly go pear shaped at some point thanks to Mother Natures whims. And there is not a thing you can do about it. It's the game we play, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating when record grain crops get frosted overnight or hailed upon and flattened, or freshly shorn sheep go ten toes up thanks to a freak thunderstorm or your bumper hay crop gets nearly two inches of rain on it two days out from baling. I've been reminded in the last two weeks as soon as you start getting a bit cocky, Old Mother Nature will bitchslap you back into place, and her cousin Murphy will kick you where it hurts while you are down.

We go through a fair bit of hay in the feedlot, so each year our hay crop seems to get bigger and bigger. This year we have 160 hectares in, or 400 acres, and almost all of it is for our own use. We've gone from using contractors to do the lot, to getting our own baler, then last year it was a mower, and this year it was a rake. The rake is something you hope you never need to buy, and when you do, you hope you never need to use. The neighbours rake is always a good option. Until the deluge occurs and his other neighbours think the same.

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

Showtime!! (Love thy Nieghbour)

Sometimes I wonder if they aren't compensating for something
Field days. Where exhibitors spend exorbitant amounts of money to bring their wares for farmers to kick the tyres and mutter amongst themselves. A time when the bank managers turn a whiter shade of pale as the cropping cockies stagger about in a red / blue / green haze trying to get that new bit of gear at the once only never to be repeated "Show Day Price." Where kids gorge themselves on fairy floss only to sick it back up on the rides. Where you pay $7.50 for a bacon and egg sandwich consisting of a piece of burnt ham and a quails egg wedged between one piece of white toast and one piece of wholegrain bread, and no bloody sauce. The P & C's are worse than the Italian mafia. And speaking of mafia, it's where some genius decided putting a display of damaras and dampers (damara dorper crosses, we thought long and hard about that name) under the stud merino breeders pavilion was a good idea, or at least good for a laugh.