Now the difference between a farm and a dump is sometimes in the eyes of the beholder. In town you tend to run out of space for junk, no matter how fertile your imagination is for something you might need it for one day... but out here -- well, the shops are long way off any real established farm has a plethora of useful junk (some bordering on the antique. And that's the new stuff). I'm as good at it as the next fellow, or maybe even better. I have a fertile imagination for possible uses ;-).
Only - well, besides the space constraints, we are limited as to what we can take with us. Most of my workshop - which has tools that belonged to my Great-grandfather, can't go. Neither can all the garden tools and and all the useful bits - Garlon to slug-bait. And neither can my pile of lumber. Wood, planks, boards, the leftovers and salvage of hundreds of jobs and projects... So last night I was using it for firewood.
It felt so wrong.
Today I had a slithery drive into Mooi through the worst kind of mud -- red clay 2-5 inches of it on hard-pan. If you slow down... you stick. If you brake or turn, you slide. It takes a cool head and and good judgement to drive it which is why I was dismal at it and am still shaking like a diesel compactor. The truck's roof has mud on it. Miricle of miricles, I got through and back. Although it was a damn cheek allowing other vehicles on MY road. :-) There'll be new places to get stuck, but red clay I can't wait to bid an unfond farewell to. Flinders is mostly beach sand, limestone and granitic soils... are any red clay?