Saturday, 26 October 2013

Water Water Everywhere

Day 14 Water water Everywhere 

After their mammoth trip to Broken Hill and back (they drove the entire length of the UK in a day) K and Scottish Alex were given the day off. German Alex gave himself the day off as he was going to check out a dairy farm down the road to see about another job. So I was left all on my tod (well, with Noel) and boy what a treat did I have in store. My first water run. 

Instead of paying for water delivery like the majority of locals Farmer Chris likes to get it himself. The have a 1000l tank with antique hoses that they fill and empty and fill and empty etc. First things first we had to put the empty tank on the back of the ute. No Biggie. Then we drive for 25mins or so over to Koondrook, the farm where Chris lives. Then we drive for about 20 bumpy minutes through the farm to an irrigation channel at the very far end of it. I was aware our tap water was less than sanitary but seeing it in situ. Well. I would never even consider applying toothpaste to my tooth brush, dipping in this channel, brushing my teeth and then rinsing my toothbrush in this channel but alas, apparently this is pretty much what I had been doing.  One pipe was placed in the muddy stream and the other into the tank. This is when Noel produced some overalls which I foolishly thought we might have to put on. Instead it was to put over the pipe as it 'leaks a bit'. I think we pumped 1000litres for the tank and 1000litres for me and the grass.  We then bumped back to the farm and reversed the process, pumping the water into Chris' water tank, me and the surrounding ground. This was repeated 3 times but on the final unload I was in for a special treat. It was time for me to meet Walter. Walter the 1 tonne bull (apparently he's now only 900kgs as he's lost a bit of weight. He was still the size of a truck). Walter is currently contained in a small pen. Walter's water trough(s) were running low. And lucky old me had to climb into the very small pen with the very large bull to fill the troughs up. I was assured he was harmless but to be wary as he could crush me without meaning to. Gulp. Obviously as I'm now writing this I'm pleased to report that I am still in one piece and Walter is hydrated.  Wearing a red shirt did nothing to settle my nerves.


When I eventually returned to Murrabit the sun had very much set and my fellow co workers had enjoyed an entire bottle of whiskey and a few sundry cans of XXXX. I'll admit that I was jealous they'd been having a fun day as I bumped around pumping water. Chris came round with a few groceries and was less than impressed by the drinking, but as I sat on the floor sober and playing jenga with German Alex something magical happened...Chris smiled. Yes. Smiled. At me! And he was clearly desperate to join in the jenga game. Maybe my mission to make him talkative (read: normal social skills) could be back on.

Ma there's a goat in the kitchen

We got in from our night out to find a bottle of bubbles and a cake from Chris and Ayrlie (hadn't been in to receive - awkward) and dinner remains out on the table. Standard.  Alex was off to Broken Hill that day but had been told to take a buddy at the last minute. Since I had got an afternoon to myself the day before we decided K could go this time, so German Alex and I were left on the farm together.  It was a fairly uneventful day,  Ayrlie arrived and we were instructed to make a fire to burn the rubbish in the yard and I was made to take Billy the Asbo dog on a goat round up mission. I truly hate taking Billy the Asbo dog for a 'walk'. It doesn't go well for either party. Despite taking gardening glove precautions  I more often than not end up with a blood injury and Billy just tries to hang/choke himself the entire duration and there is nothing soothing about the strangled pant of a dog in your charge. It was also drizzling which added to the ambiance somewhat. German Alex found his first kid whilst building the fire pile - a very pretty grey goat who  needed a German name. He vetoed pretty much all my suggestions; Frau Schmitt, Sandrine, Helga but eventually settled on Heidi.

It was getting dark when I was heading back to the house. Like usualI went into the Kitchen to start warming milk leaving Alex outside. But I could hear a noise. The noise of someone in the (dark) house. I turned the light in the sitting room on and went in - nothing. The porch door was slightly ajar so I locked it, wet back to the kitchen where, blow me down, Dean, the resident giant goat, was merrily ferreting around the kitchen.  A goat in the kitchen. What else would you expect in a Friday evening? The funny thing is I didn't even shock me.  Country life is getting to me.