A score draw …
Today we heard from our eldest son by text that he had reached London safely and had not run into any difficulties getting into the U.K. The red tape in these Covid times made this welcome news. It brought rushing back to me my excitement and wonder during those first few months of living in England back in the 1980s. Strangely enough some of the things that have stayed with me the longest are the quintessentially English institutions that had me completely baffled on first acquaintance. Take for example the tradition of the football pools. Basically, the punters choose which fixtures in the weekends matches will end in a “score draw” and those with the most correct predictions win a cash prize. It took me a few months to work out why folk sat by a radio or a television screen late on a Saturday afternoon, hearing someone droning the names of teams who played and then the result – either “home win”, “away win”, “score draw” or “no-score draw”.
Well without a shadow of a doubt, today on the farm was a very hard fought “score draw”. Cath arrived safely from Brisbane yesterday, so we were up reasonably early eager to get stuck in. We decided to try our hand at burning some of the remaining blackberry bushes that are choking the slopes of the lower paddocks. I had done a bit of slashing down there to try and move the worst of the bushes away from the overhanging wattle trees so we were confident that we could burn the brambles without starting a forest fire. Down we went to the blackberries armed with a bit of diesel fuel and Cath’s awesome flamethrower which we bought to control weeds without spraying poison around.
What we failed to factor into the equation was the dampness of the bush caused by the recent rains and also the lack of sunshine over the last few days. So instead of a bonfire we got a fizzer! Despite blasting the bushes with the best the flamethrower could muster, nothing was dry enough to sustain the fire. We spread the diesel around quite liberally and were rewarded with the odd burst of flame but eventually we had to admit defeat. It was all terribly disappointing and we trudged back up the hill for lunch feeling completely deflated. The half time score was very definitely:
Farm 1 -- Us 0.
After lunch we changed tack and decided to make some progress on the fencing of the domestic orchard. Having put up corner posts a number of weeks ago, today it was time to brace these posts using the “conventional stay” as opposed to a “box stay” (see “A winter’s tale …”). We had already purchased the required 2 metre long treated pine logs, the 250mm decking spikes for fixing them in place to the upright posts and an auger bit to drill the holes for the spikes.
Special mention must also go to Cath's string tool that she bought at vast expense from an antique shop somewhere in the centre of Tasmania. This allowed us to align the stays correctly. Armed and very dangerous we sallied forth to do battle. It all went surprisingly smoothly. A deft angle cut with the circular saw finished off with the hand saw, a simple hole drilled with the Bosch professional series power drill, a bit of brute strength with a hammer and by the end of the afternoon all the stays were in place.
At the end of the day, therefore, there was no doubt that the score was
Farm 1 -- Us 1
and that we had fought back to secure the "score draw". Unfortunately, what awaits us now is learning how to use a wire tensioning tool and also tie wire fencing knots. I fear these tasks could result in a few "home wins" for the farm before we finally figure it out ...
Loving the action photos
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