End of farm experience

Finally done. That whole chunk of diary entries I entered while I was at the farm. I knew I had to finish blogging it as soon as I could before the next load of entries come in on my current farm. Which really is nothing, compared to the experience at Len Simmons.

I had this whole load of reflections on the farm experience, which I kind of forgot after the past few days... Looking back, it seemed like quite an adventure, especially when you immerse yourself in something totally new to you, alone. I found it to stretch my limits. Previously I thought there was no way I could last for 2 whole weeks by myself in a foreign place. Now that I have tried it out, the next time I would go for a longer period of time. What about 3 weeks in a foreign land?

Currently, I'm almost halfway through my third farm experience, at an alpaca farm which I drive to every day. The past 2 days starting on Monday had been real hot, so we get half a day off and we knocked off around 1pm. There isn't much to do around the place. In the mornings, we walk around the farm feeding the alpacas premium muesli mixes and lupins as supplementary feed. After that we halter train the alpaca weaners that have just been separated from their mothers. To do that, we have to get them used to human contact, and train them to be able to walk on a leash comfortably. Some are sweet, while others are devils. Each of them has got their own personality, so in a way, it's really interesting to interact with these animals.....

Don't I look maternal? Haha... 

Me and my host family on the last day

Len was a bit apprehensive about appearing so dirty in the group photo, till I told him that was really how I remembered him by most of the time...

Belinda feeding Nicky in the pram.  

I have never gotten quite used to the clutter even though I'm not a neat person by nature myself... 

My allocated bedroom - looks normal enough... 

Dancing with their house in the distance 

Britney and Chloe making funny faces

I guess Chloe understood what I meant, but Britney decided her hands were the main draw.. aren't they adorable?

They insisted on taking a picture with the plant 

I look like the big bad wolf...

...when all I wanted was a nice picture with Chloe! It was hard taking a picture for the two of us myself.

Chloe, the overactive kid  

Chloe on a 4-wheel motorbikes

Ian and Len polishing their shearing tools on the grinder

After a long day of shearing, Len would drive the both of us to Ian's shed which contains the grinder machine to clean and polish their shearing gear, and I would be left to entertain Chloe and Britney. It's amazing how their parents just let them run around on barefeet around the shed which probably has sharp bits and glass from tools and machinery. Most heartwarmingly, the girls would each give their grandad (Len) a big cuddle every day.

I'm terrible at shearing, really. 

I'm a shearer too!

Len promised to let me shear one of the last lambs they had for the day, since the lambs were supposed to be easier. They made it look so easy, but the truth was that it took a lot of skill to be able to glide the shearing blades effortlessly right along the skin so that you do not leave unnecessary wool on the sheep. My attempt was totally embarassing, but I think I amused the other shearers.

Waiting to have a go at shearing

That white thing in my hand, which gave my hand many calluses in that short period of time, is what I use mainly to sweep unwanted pieces of wool away from the shearers without risking getting my hands too near them to be cut by the shearing blades. I discovered that it's also a wonderful tool for developing muscles in the arm.

More shearing by my favourite shearer: Mike 

Len shearing a lamb 

Skirting the fleece and wool classing.

After the shearer is done shearing the sheep, the main bulk of the "good stuff" is taken onto this table where the fleece is skirted (trimmed along the sides), leaving the best quality wool on the body of the fleece, before rolling it up and chucking it in the appropriate pile. The wool classer (hidden behind the boy Andrew) is the one who decides which types of wool are grouped together, thus "classing" them into different piles.

Look at that big pile accumulating in the background! It got even taller just before I left.

3 Shearers hard at work 

Farm Experience: Thursday, 9th December, 2004

"It's my last 2 days on the farm, and I'm experiencing some mixed feelings. Honestly, Len and Gail have been wonderful hosts to me. And I wish I could hang around to see what Nicky does next. That is a huge improvement for someone who has no interests in babies whatsoever before yea? But, I also cannot wait to get out of here. I think I have never felt so much like a "coolie" before. It's just the same repetitive work every single day. By friday I would have done 8 days of rousing in the shearing shed. Pretty unbelievable when I think about it. If I had known what I was to be doing here I would have been much more reluctant to leave Perth in the first place to come here! I don't think I can do it all over again, that's for sure. It's too tiring. I feel like going to bed at 9pm, but then wake up in the middle of night because I've had too much rest too early. So I try to go back to sleep, only to wake up feeling more tired than before. Day after day it's the same. I really admire the shearers for their diligence in their jobs, without complaints too.

I realise again, that you simply cannot please everyone. Why do I say that? for the past few days I've been working in the shed, I've encountered different rouseabouts. Some are initially hardworking but slacked off as time passed. You annoy them by working too hard, for then it becomes obvious who does more work and who does less. Of course, this is similar in every occupation, as long as you have to work with people. I just never expected to encounter it even in a simple country shed!

I will miss here more than I had expected to. It has been a good 2 weeks. "

Farm Experience: Tuesday, 7th December, 2004

"I met Tony's wife, Joan, today. She has come up from Perth to stay at the farm for the week along with her nephew Tom. Anyway, the shearing day has been made all the more bearable because of her. She invited me to go up to their house for lunch, which, previously I was having in the shed with the other shearers and rouseabouts. Lunch at their house is pure bliss. There was air conditioning! haha... nevertheless she was a fantastic host. I was quite taken aback by her preparing a towel especially for me to wipe my face in that bathroom. Was my face that dirty? I had brought my prepared lunch up to join them for a meal, but ended up eating what they were having instead. Joan prepared an amazing pasta salad and iced coffee with ice-cream and chocolate mud cake. Even though I had been politely declining Len and Gail's offers of sweets after dinner, I simply couldn't refuse Joan's hospitality. For some strange reason, I felt really comfortable having a meal with them even though I haven't really met them before this, and I assumed it was because they were city people, just like me. Tom, the cute-looking nephew ;P , came to work at the farm for the week for the first time due to requests from his aunt and uncle, and from our short conversations I could tell that he was having difficulties adapting to the sudden change.

Anyway, time passes ever so slowly. The only relief I get is from thinking about returning to Perth on Friday. Activities in the shed has become to routine-like that my brain has stopped functioning altogether and my body moves automatically to where I'm needed. No amount of insect repellent seems to repel the flies, which irritatingly attack the sensitive areas on your face - the mouth, the ears, the nostrils, and the eyes. For me, the major piss-off point is really along the eyelids. I could never figure out why the fly would want to walk along the eyelids. Do they seek a hideout among the eyelashes? that seems pretty dumb to me. I feel like a horse sometimes, using my ponytail to deflect flies when I shake my head. If the flies were invisible, I would look like a complete idiot. And I get really worried when flies fly dangerously close to the nostril. It makes me wonder if any would be stupid to fly up and get stuck in there. A couple flew into some people's mouths, and that's when you hear occasional spitting noises from people around you. Fortunately that hasn't happened to me yet.

We took the 4-wheel motorbikes for a spin this evening, as promised earlier. Gail said that as long as I could drive, it shouldn't be a problem for me. Frankly I think that even a non-driver would be able to handle it. It was thrilling enough if you went fast on the motorbike, and although there's not really much of a view other than dried up grass on the hills, sheep and more sheep, the sunset at that time provided quite a nice setting to the experience. Len brought 2 of his dogs along, which kept trying to jump onto the bike... I think they were just too excited about being let free after a week of being cooped out in their pen. We spent a good 30 minutes at least on the bikes moving a mob of sheep from a drying-up dam to another paddock with a better supply of water, and by the end of it, I was thoroughly satisfied. "

Farm Experience: Monday, 6th December, 2004

"Shearing resumed today. I didn't look forward to five whole days of shearing before I could leave this place! To make matters worse, it started getting hotter today as well. The weather is said to increase to high 30s by the middle of the week. To be honest, I hoped it might rain one day so that we could take a break in the middle of the week, but no such luck, it seems.

We had a new rouseabout fella about the shed today. Apparently Andrew chose to go back to school rather than help out around here. Can't blame him for that. This guy's name is Dave, and he's quite a clown. I really appreciated his efforts to lighten up the atmosphere, but then ever since we found a shrunken testicle from a castrated lamb, he seems to think it's funny to throw them at me every other time he found another. I hear from Gail that although he's the liveliest around and makes everyone laugh, he has quite a dark side to him; he drinks heavily and is quite a heavy smoker too. His temper is pretty bad as well. This brings back memories of a hypothesis I used to have with regards to such types of people. I have come to believe that there are two main categories of people in this matter: the people who alternate between extreme highs and lows, and the people who remain more stable in emotions constantly. True, the happy-go-lucky behavior of the "clowns" who bring joy to everyone are more well-liked in general and as friends, but these are not people you would want to spend your whole life with, not unless you are unperturbed by nothing at all. Just a thought. "

Silos - used for containing grain. In this case, oats are stored in this container either for feed or seed.  

Sheep drinking from a dam 

Holds 19 Angus cows: imagine how packed they would be! 

The ute we drove in to all our destinations 

The 4 dogs in the pen, which were only let out once while I was on the farm 

Farm Experience: Sunday, 5th December, 2004

"Yet another uneventful day. I know I should have been appreciative of the rest I am getting in the weekends, but I get bored when there isn't much to do. In the morning, after chopping up the kangaroo carcasses into chunks to be stored as dog food to last for the next couple of weeks, I followed Len up to the paddocks to fix some rickety fences, then came back to the house to sow his beans for the summer. There really wasn't much I could help him with, except lurk around like his shadow and watch his every movement. Now I understand that there's so much work involved in growing your own vegetables in your own garden. Had it been me I would have simply chucked the seeds in some soil and water every day to see if it grows. But it's different here. First, he had to plough through the piece of land he wants to grow seeds in a couple of times to make sure that the soil is properly turned over. That took 20 minutes. Then, he gingerly put the seeds individually into the soil at a fixed distance from one another. From the way he handles the seeds, you would think that the slightest amount of pressure would kill them. This process alone took 15 minutes. Following which, he then applied a gentle water spray over up and down the land area to make sure the soil is properly soaked. I've got to hand it to him... the plants he grows really received his Tender Loving Care.

Belinda came back from the city for the weekend at noontime along with her friends and the unwed father of her child. From gists of conversations between Gail and Len, it wasn't difficult to detect their dislike of Belinda's 'mate', Brad, but they didn't have much of a say in the matter since the child was already born. It appears that they were unable to support themselves, and instead, have to be supported by their parents still. I didn't ask any questions for I didn't want to pry into their family problems but unfortunately it became quite interesting to me. Over lunch time, Brad was directing respectful comments at Len, who simply threw caustic remarks back at him. It was quite shocking behavior for the old man whom I had come to admire and respect over the last couple of days. I was quite relieved when Len and I had to leave the table early to bring some neighbours' cows to Midland to be sold.

We delivered the 19 black Angus cows packed into the back of his vehicle (argh I could never remember the names of machinery still) to Midland over an hour long's drive, during which I kept nodding off. I had wanted to have a conversation with Len but it was quite impossible because he was deaf in his left ear and his whole head turns in order to hear what I'm saying. Just too dangerous in a big vehicle full of animals. It was actually pretty fun to sit so high up and looking down at all the tiny cars whizzing by and overtaking us. For the ows on the other hand, it must have been pretty stressful. They started their diarrheoa spurts even before we started on journey. Len had to clean out the back of his vehicle each time with a huge water hose after delivering animals for people.

We came home just in time to freshen up and get ready to go to their social event of the week - sending off of a neighbour who is moving to the suburbs. I had initially looked forward to a nice relaxing time alone at home, but then it seemed like they didn't ask me if I wanted to go... they just assumed I had to come along. It was a big potluck gathering where everyone knew each other (but of course, the town of Brookton is so small), and I spent the time staring at people because I was so bored. Everyone was busy catching up with one another, not to mention attacking the abundant food. Most of them were in their 50s, so I guessed that their kids could already have left to pursue a non-farmer lifestyle, or they were just not interested in such events. Honestly 80% of the people there had white hairs. The only conversation I managed to have over the evening was that with Carole, a co-owner of the farm I went to previously. Sad. But such gatherings reminded me of home, as I told Len and Gail later on. It reminded me of gathering of relatives at my house over Christmas and New Year. After such a dismal evening of not having anyone to talk to, I have decided to become a better host the next time round, and not let anyone feel left out. "

The shed that we park the utes in everyday, located just next to the house