"Death to the landlords!"
Looks at watch.
Um. 12.31...
"The peasants are revolting!"
Or in other words, we are now land-owners as of 12.30. Peasants are admittedly in short supply, and we may have to make do with Pheasants. Still waiting on replies from council about the building permit. I am reading the regulations... seriously, they need one new regulation: "No regulations may be more than 3 pages, and in total cost (in fees, added expenses etc,) more than 1% of the value of project. You can tell these bastards have no work to do and are not paying for the costs out of their own pockets.
Friday, March 3, 2017
Tuesday, February 28, 2017
Shrove Tuesday
Is pancake day. The Anglican Church do free lunch-time pancakes, with a vast selection of sweet and savory fillings. I do my bit as the pancake cook - I had 4 pans working flat-out for just over 2 hours. I also took in 4 large pots of savory fillings - long on meat and veg off the land. It's free - like several of the functions and feeds here - although there is a collection box for donations for some form of disaster relief every year: Australia - fire or drought. People I suspect give more than we could charge, because that's the nature of the people and place.
I'm good with getting up a 5 to cook, doing my bit. Once, in what seems like another lifetime we came to the island... pretty broke. It cost nearly all we had and the exchange rate was very against us. I was still learning the local fish and how to catch them, and we had no access to meat or poultry. Veg, rice cheap noodles were a lot of what we ate. Now, I raise or shoot our own meat, and meat portions are generous, my deep freezers bulge, and money doesn't come into it much - then, well we made a point to buy some meat (whatever was cheapest) every two weeks. Aus prices made my eyes water. Going to these 'feeds' meant a lot to us. I'd like to think I pay it forward a bit, play a small part in a community that does this kind of thing.
I'm good with getting up a 5 to cook, doing my bit. Once, in what seems like another lifetime we came to the island... pretty broke. It cost nearly all we had and the exchange rate was very against us. I was still learning the local fish and how to catch them, and we had no access to meat or poultry. Veg, rice cheap noodles were a lot of what we ate. Now, I raise or shoot our own meat, and meat portions are generous, my deep freezers bulge, and money doesn't come into it much - then, well we made a point to buy some meat (whatever was cheapest) every two weeks. Aus prices made my eyes water. Going to these 'feeds' meant a lot to us. I'd like to think I pay it forward a bit, play a small part in a community that does this kind of thing.
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Resume the position...
2016 turned into the sort of year largely best left un-mentioned. Partly sheer battle-fatigue. We did go and see Paddy and Clare in the UK and Patrick and Judith in Brittany, but something about that turned occasional tinnitus into a permanent chorus in my ears. My writing career went along swimmingly... as the man said of how things were going when his home flooded. It's still going. I'm planning on doing more self-publishing through Amazon in the future, and have started a mailing list - if you're interested you can sign up here. We did more pigs and more bacon and ham... just battering on, not losing too much ground, not gaining any really.
But in the latter half of the year we had a bit of a financial shock - the great deal we had on the present house we are tenants in got revised. Now, we're very grateful for what we'd had, and this was fair enough. But... it pushed things into a situation of instead of saving furiously and hoping we'd have the cash in hand when property prices fall (as they must, eventually. If interest rates rise, the Australian job situation worsens or the farming situation changes for the worse - Flinders will be one of the first places hurt. All those second holiday homes will, if it is a choice between paying home mortgage, or the holiday place mortgage - you know which one has to go)- to one where we felt we were going to lose ground, or take the step of buying something with what we had.
So... on Friday next Barbs and I will start the next phase of our adventure. We'll have 43 acres of rocks, bush and not very arable grazing land, about 800 meters from the beach. Oh yeah, and next to no money. So what else is new?
But somehow we're going to raise a house on it. Sheds, Veg gardens, an orchard, and eventually some fencing and livestock. It's not ever going to be commercially successful farming at that size - but we should be pretty much self-sufficient.
It's going to be tough. Make and scrape, paint it blue and make it do. But... I have done tough. And I am longing for a place of our own. I want to build... for me and mine. I want to plant trees I will see fruit and harvest from.
I want to say 'this is my land.'
And I will.
But in the latter half of the year we had a bit of a financial shock - the great deal we had on the present house we are tenants in got revised. Now, we're very grateful for what we'd had, and this was fair enough. But... it pushed things into a situation of instead of saving furiously and hoping we'd have the cash in hand when property prices fall (as they must, eventually. If interest rates rise, the Australian job situation worsens or the farming situation changes for the worse - Flinders will be one of the first places hurt. All those second holiday homes will, if it is a choice between paying home mortgage, or the holiday place mortgage - you know which one has to go)- to one where we felt we were going to lose ground, or take the step of buying something with what we had.
So... on Friday next Barbs and I will start the next phase of our adventure. We'll have 43 acres of rocks, bush and not very arable grazing land, about 800 meters from the beach. Oh yeah, and next to no money. So what else is new?
But somehow we're going to raise a house on it. Sheds, Veg gardens, an orchard, and eventually some fencing and livestock. It's not ever going to be commercially successful farming at that size - but we should be pretty much self-sufficient.
It's going to be tough. Make and scrape, paint it blue and make it do. But... I have done tough. And I am longing for a place of our own. I want to build... for me and mine. I want to plant trees I will see fruit and harvest from.
I want to say 'this is my land.'
And I will.
Friday, May 8, 2015
Rain was chucking it down...
It's raining. Some of it actually reaching the ground, but most of it is simply moving horizontally across the the island. Some of it hits trees or the occasional window and gets its trip to New Zealand interrupted. We need the rain, we've had a green drought the last while. I need it too as my hard drive decided it hated me (quite understandable, trust me)and went off to join a blue screen of death. So we rebuild... most of the essentials are backed up, but it takes time, knowledge and intellectual capacity, which are kinda all hard to come by in these promiscuous parts (it's Kipling. I thought it was funny :-)). I got a sheep in to deal with Windows. Unfortunately it baulked when it came to re-installing the rest. I couldn't find a donkey, so I've had to do it myself, which is rather like fixing a nuclear reactor by 'what happens if I pull this lever?'. So it's a good thing it's raining and blowing and even seagulls are squatting in the fields looking morose, because the excuse to do anything else, including putting manure into my garden is very attractive. Fishing or diving are not going to be possible for a while, with huge seas running. So, I keep telling myself, it is a good thing, although the cats have threatened real consequences if I don't improve the weather soon.
Well, the one good thing I can see is that there are mushrooms popping up on my 'lawn'. They're a bit close to the trees for my liking but I will find time(somewhere) to go and prowl the fields (where the grass fortunately pretty short) hunting them. Always look on the bright side of life (although with mushrooms it could be 'always look on the bright side of death'). And a full freezer and lots of dried produce are a big plus too.
Well, the one good thing I can see is that there are mushrooms popping up on my 'lawn'. They're a bit close to the trees for my liking but I will find time(somewhere) to go and prowl the fields (where the grass fortunately pretty short) hunting them. Always look on the bright side of life (although with mushrooms it could be 'always look on the bright side of death'). And a full freezer and lots of dried produce are a big plus too.
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Growing shorter
I went out shooting the other night, and wore at least an inch off my legs, walking. And walking. And then, for a change, walking. The wallaby were scarce, and when I found any, jumpy (yes, they're always jumpy, but more-so than usual) Now, trust me on this they're really no scarcer. The weather seems to affect their behavior, and evenings are always harder work than mornings. Mornings on the other hand really, really mean getting out of a warm bed when it is cold out there - winter is rushing towards us with a sudden rush - days have been glorious (and I've had to work - the only good thing is, so has my dive partner) We had our first frost last night :-(. The other downside with mornings is you can shoot in the dark, but the wallaby go into the bush when it is light. Twilight is my favorite time for it.
Now around here, most people drive to shoot, and shoot from the ute, but I like the old long hunter ways. There is a tranquility and a one-ness with the environment I hunt in. Well, except when I am shortening my legs. I gather that according to David Gerrold and his mates I'm one of the 'little people' so maybe a good thing I'm making my legs shorter. Still, I was glad after about 6km hike (a zig-zag one,) to see the ute, and three Wallaby. I shot two of them, all of 70 yards from the vehicle. Less carrying, and if I had been more patient, less time.
I started on the firewood today. What do you mean, 'it's a bit late.'? I know. I've just bee too wrapped up in other projects. Any way first ute load is in. We get through winter on about 4, and it it takes me about an hour and half -two hours to fill the ute. The chainsaw is a thing I would hate to do without!
Oh the next Bolg, PI Novella is up on Amazon.
Now around here, most people drive to shoot, and shoot from the ute, but I like the old long hunter ways. There is a tranquility and a one-ness with the environment I hunt in. Well, except when I am shortening my legs. I gather that according to David Gerrold and his mates I'm one of the 'little people' so maybe a good thing I'm making my legs shorter. Still, I was glad after about 6km hike (a zig-zag one,) to see the ute, and three Wallaby. I shot two of them, all of 70 yards from the vehicle. Less carrying, and if I had been more patient, less time.
I started on the firewood today. What do you mean, 'it's a bit late.'? I know. I've just bee too wrapped up in other projects. Any way first ute load is in. We get through winter on about 4, and it it takes me about an hour and half -two hours to fill the ute. The chainsaw is a thing I would hate to do without!
Oh the next Bolg, PI Novella is up on Amazon.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
The zombie washing machine
A couple of days ago things got really cheerful and expensive looking (Yes, I have had moths flutter out when I open my wallet. Bloody thin moths too). The faithful Speed Queen (was dead if you're American, salute. This is one of the best products out of the US I've ever encountered - seeming still made the 'old' way. Big, solid, relatively simple, and robust.)after 20 years of cleaning Freer clothes - mine are a challenge to excavators, and two boys growing up is going to always be rough, even without them being tru-blue Freer boys - ie. good at getting filthy, covered in mud, blood and grease and kindly letting their clothes share. It had had hard, faithful life, and baring some minor hiccups with the solenoid last year... done itself proud.
I prepared for a suitable burial with full military honors, as it certainly died in service - it washed my old army jacket that I use for muttonbirding as it's last item (yes that could have killed most things). I cowered in terror before the specter of replacing it - a new one costs $2300! It would have to be something else, cheaper.
But as a last, forlorn hope I called up my evil mechanical persona, Doktor Monkenstein (who I believe lives in a turreted gothic rocket-propelled palm tree in Transylvania, at least in the swampy recesses of my mind.) Doktor Monkenstein came with all his surgical implements (and a thunderstorm for sufficient voltaic force). You know, your typical microsurgeon's equipment - 4 pound hammer, monkey wrench, shifting spanner, vice-grip. None of the right size sockets or spanners of course. Don't be ridiculous. I dissected the beast, and fiddled. My trusty hunchman... uh henchman, Jamie showed up at lunch time, and gave it a wiff of that wonderful revivifying gas AKA cow manure... and I replaced the solenoid (which hadn't quite died previously, and with care had allowed us to continue using the beast. Needless to say I had dissembled the whole thing for a task that actually needed... 1 screw to access it. Ah well, I had wonderful time putting it together and now have some lovely spare screws and bolts. There's barely any baling wire involved... Und you can call me Doktor Monkenstein... Cause I have a monster. It lives IT LIVES... Mwahahaahaaa!
It's actually working better now than it has for about a year - which is real worry (my fixing doesn't usually do that) even though the relief is vast.
Besides these little adventures into terrorizing machinery back to life, I have been moving a cupboard and huge bookcase into my study/office. This necessitated 1)lots of lifting, straining grunting and sweating (they both weigh more than me, IMO and it's just easier to do it alone. 2)A triumph of getting big things in narrow gaps. As the actress said to the Bishop 'it'll fit in if you wiggle it enough'. And yeah, it was case of less than 1/8 of inch on one, and a little surgery (Monkenstein had to be restrained from the chainsaw. A hand-saw did the job.) with the other.
Of course it is never simple... that's meant reorganizing my study, and the existing 'book-shelves' (AKA lots of bricks and planks, and 2 bookcases).
I am in tears and snuffles. Not because it is tragic - indeed I'm well pleased, but because books really do hold a lot of dust.
And I kept finding things I really really must read again.
I've got, courtesy of my mate Peter, a huge window to put in the container/workshop. I now have to work out a hinge for it. This may be too hard even for Monkenstein (it's aluminum. Monkenstein works best on steel or at pinch wood) but I'll let him have a go, if I fail.
I prepared for a suitable burial with full military honors, as it certainly died in service - it washed my old army jacket that I use for muttonbirding as it's last item (yes that could have killed most things). I cowered in terror before the specter of replacing it - a new one costs $2300! It would have to be something else, cheaper.
But as a last, forlorn hope I called up my evil mechanical persona, Doktor Monkenstein (who I believe lives in a turreted gothic rocket-propelled palm tree in Transylvania, at least in the swampy recesses of my mind.) Doktor Monkenstein came with all his surgical implements (and a thunderstorm for sufficient voltaic force). You know, your typical microsurgeon's equipment - 4 pound hammer, monkey wrench, shifting spanner, vice-grip. None of the right size sockets or spanners of course. Don't be ridiculous. I dissected the beast, and fiddled. My trusty hunchman... uh henchman, Jamie showed up at lunch time, and gave it a wiff of that wonderful revivifying gas AKA cow manure... and I replaced the solenoid (which hadn't quite died previously, and with care had allowed us to continue using the beast. Needless to say I had dissembled the whole thing for a task that actually needed... 1 screw to access it. Ah well, I had wonderful time putting it together and now have some lovely spare screws and bolts. There's barely any baling wire involved... Und you can call me Doktor Monkenstein... Cause I have a monster. It lives IT LIVES... Mwahahaahaaa!
It's actually working better now than it has for about a year - which is real worry (my fixing doesn't usually do that) even though the relief is vast.
Besides these little adventures into terrorizing machinery back to life, I have been moving a cupboard and huge bookcase into my study/office. This necessitated 1)lots of lifting, straining grunting and sweating (they both weigh more than me, IMO and it's just easier to do it alone. 2)A triumph of getting big things in narrow gaps. As the actress said to the Bishop 'it'll fit in if you wiggle it enough'. And yeah, it was case of less than 1/8 of inch on one, and a little surgery (Monkenstein had to be restrained from the chainsaw. A hand-saw did the job.) with the other.
Of course it is never simple... that's meant reorganizing my study, and the existing 'book-shelves' (AKA lots of bricks and planks, and 2 bookcases).
I am in tears and snuffles. Not because it is tragic - indeed I'm well pleased, but because books really do hold a lot of dust.
And I kept finding things I really really must read again.
I've got, courtesy of my mate Peter, a huge window to put in the container/workshop. I now have to work out a hinge for it. This may be too hard even for Monkenstein (it's aluminum. Monkenstein works best on steel or at pinch wood) but I'll let him have a go, if I fail.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
A experiment into letting you see my world
Norm - my dive partner, was given a Gopro camera for Christmas. It's now April... neither of us have a lot of interest in electronic gadgets to be honest. We like diving spearing fish, catching crays, collecting abs... But we tried it out on last Saturday. That is to say, I did.
I got about 40 minutes of dreadful selfie (yes, I thought the camera was facing the other way)
I know. Idiot.
I'm trying editing out some good bits so I am going to see if I can embed it here.
Hmm. No. No video. Here are some pictures anyway.
I got about 40 minutes of dreadful selfie (yes, I thought the camera was facing the other way)
I know. Idiot.
I'm trying editing out some good bits so I am going to see if I can embed it here.
Hmm. No. No video. Here are some pictures anyway.
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