A case of imposter syndrome ...
Last weekend Cath registered us to attend a meeting of the Huon Producers Network. The Network is a commune of small producers in the Huon and meetings take the form of gathering at a member's property, having afternoon tea followed by a walk around to observe and discuss approaches to production and general problem solving for small producers. It was an interesting experience but it prompted deep feelings of inadequacy because very well-meaning folk kept asking us (a) were new to the Valley or (b) what did we “produce”. While the former was easy to answer, the latter invariably brought on a certain amount of nervous fidgeting.
While we have made huge strides fixing up the infrastructure and land immediately adjacent to the cottage and indeed the interior of the cottage, it feels as though real farming activities have been in short supply. On returning from the meeting I immediately looked up the definition of “farmer”. I was rather interested to find the following definition on dictionary.com:
farmer
noun
- a person who operates a farm or cultivates land.
- Slang: Disparaging and Offensive. an unsophisticated or ignorant person, especially one from a rural area.
- a person who undertakes some service, as the care of children or the poor, at a fixed price.
- a person who undertakes the collection of taxes, duties, etc., paying a fixed sum for the privilege of retaining them.
Despite the apparent myriad of meanings, none of these immediately leapt out at me as describing what we have been doing over the last four months.
That said, things have improved dramatically over the past week. Armed with a new resolve I set off to “slash” the lower paddocks using the flail mulcher. Now the descent to the lower paddocks is perilous so this endeavour represented something of a leap of faith. Some time ago I had a bit of scare on the slopes of the hill with the tractor. While I was gathering rocks for the retaining wall, I couldn’t coax the tractor to reverse over a sharp bulge in the track so attempted to engage the low gear ratio while on a slope. Bad mistake! I found neutral instead and there was a terrifying 2 seconds or so while the tractor simply plunged down the slope and off the track completely unchecked. I managed to stop it before it got away from me, but the memory of this mishap was pretty front and centre of my thoughts during the descent. I was also reminded of Bill Bryson’s words
“There are only three things that can kill a farmer: lightning, rolling over in a tractor, and old age.”
Having successfully navigated the descent, the slashing of the first paddock was going swimmingly until I accidentally hit some wire lying concealed next to the fence line. The wire ended up entangled in the teeth of the flail mower and I ended up lying underneath 450kgs of equipment with a pair of wire cutters. Unfortunately a lot of grass from the paddock was also caught in the teeth of the mower and this fell on my face as I was clipping wire. I suffered a bit of an allergic reaction and puffed up like the proverbial fish of the same name! But a few anti-histamines and a cup of tea and I was soon back down in the paddocks having another go. No wire mishaps this time only minor discomfort at sitting on a tractor cutting grass on a slope which occasionally falls in two directions – believe me the sensation of instability is quite marked even though I didn’t really feel that the tractor was at its limit in terms of what it could handle. Looking back on my first two completely slashed paddocks was a good feeling, but realising that I had smashed at least 3 of the mulcher’s teeth on concealed rocks did dent the euphoria a little. Yet more money is now required – gaining experience is an expensive way to pass the time!
Too cold for a dip?
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