Thirty!!!

How about that? My son turns 30 today - or, more precisely, he turned 30 very early this morning. I can't remember the exact time but his mother will.

Amazing thing it was welcoming this new son into the world. It was the first time for me - and for him for that matter.

I clearly recall walking out of the hospital - the old one in Canberra that has now been blown up -and getting into the car. The news came on the radio and I was very surprised that the first item was not about the birth of this new baby boy - seriously.

Over the next few days I came to understand why people often carry on about the birth of babies, gooing over them, congratulating the parents and generally being very chuffed about the state of the world. I wandered about with my chest puffed out as if I had actually done something special.

Which of course I had.

My son has made it to 30 as a competent, confident person. He will go on from here making his own decisions and his own life.

We got him started and I am pretty proud that we did.

Bugger!

I am not spectacularly good at seeking or accepting help. I am not sure why this is the case but there you go.

My shed has been waiting quietly for 3 years to be built. This is a good sized shed in a kit. To build it you need to put together portal frames and then lift them into position on the pre-prepared footings. Everyone who has put one of these sheds together tells me that precision is essential and that, if you are able to be precise at each step, the shed will go together pretty well.

The foundations are done. Took a while but there were other things to do along the way. One of the most difficult portal frames is in place. Looks a lot bigger than I expected. The second (of a total of 6) has been constructed but I have not yet found away to get it into place. My neighbour is very keen to give me a hand. Two others have offered to help.

One technique I have used to some effect is to use my tractor as a lifting tool. Unfortunately, tractors are not really all that good as precision instruments and it has been difficult to achieve the necessary level of accuracy.

Anyway these wonderful friends of ours have made a decision that they are coming down to help. This is to be my birthday present and one of the best I reckon. A job that I would struggle for a couple of weeks on could conceivably be done in a day or so.

To achieve the best benefit I need to put the frames together before they get here. There is a week or so in that job.

So, yesterday I was getting into it. Needed to clear a bit of ground to allow me to lay out the frames. Stepped off the tractor as I have a thousand times before. Sprained my ankle. Can't walk too well.

Bugger!!!!

Happy Birthday

I reckon that my mum would have loved the blogosphere. As the family communicator she took on the responsibility of writing to those of her children who were away from 'home', that is, where Mum was, once a week, on a Monday.

This practice started when someone left 'home'. I think it probably started when my older sister went off to boarding school. It certainly carried on when my little brother who left initially for Melbourne and then went to work in London. The practice expanded when one sister went to live in Canada and, again when another went to live in Washington. It continued when my family went off to live in the Top End.

We bought Mum a computer in her later years so that she could email 'the letter'. It worked sometimes. She had problems with the way the computer worked - it was different from the typewriters she had spent 50 years working with. But I have no doubt that, perhaps if she had been introduced a little earlier and particularly if she had been able to blog, she would have loved it and would have found a great way to give and get news of the family.

I guess that Mum found it difficult on many Mondays trying to think of something to tell those of us that were away from the centre of the family. At times she apologised for a letter being a 'poor effort' but the letters always arrived and were always read with interest. Every now and then I would reply. That would give Mum something to say in her next letter, carefully answering everything that I had said.

I don't know whether there is anything that follows this life but I do know that something has followed my Mum's life. She lives on in our memories, some of our habits and probably more of our beliefs than we know.

'Everybody is equal. You are no better than anyone else - and no one is any better than you.' 'A smile costs nothing.' And every time I find that I have been chewing my bloody tongue. The list could go on and on.

Today would have been my Mum's birthday.

They're Watching

There are many good things about working in the bush on your own all day. There is, for instance, no one about to see the stupid things you do. At least not everything.

I am putting in a fence around our big block at the moment. The fence is going in a fair way from habitation. Most of it about 2 kms away, but coming closer down the northern boundary.

My dad taught me to fence in the very different conditions of the Southern Tablelands of NSW. He built good strong fences that kept the rabbits out and the sheep, cattle and horses in. They were always straight, the posts were straight up and things were done properly.

My fence needs to keep cattle, horses and (if I can convince the appropriate authority) buffalo in but needs to allow wallabies, pigs and all wildlife easy movement.

I thought the ground down South was hard but I have to say that, compared with some of the ground I am digging in here in Eva Valley, it wasn't so bad. When you drop the posthole digger into the ground and it simply polishes the surface, you know this is going to be a difficult one.

But every Wet season the ground gets very soggy almost everywhere. So the trick is, as it is with most things to do with soil up here, to add water. I am pretty sure that my dad would smile and shake his head if he heard this but standard procedure is to dig out as much as I can - you know when the crow bar bounces back up and smacks you in the ear - and then add as much water as you can get in the hole. Walk away and come back in a few hours. Repeat.;

Part of the problem is over engineering, possibly. I am putting in a fence that will be 1200 mm high. Strainers need to be in the ground 1/3 of their length. These are the rules. Thus they should be in about 600mm. I have built strainers that are 2m long, at least, just to be sure.

There should only need to be 3 sets of strainers for this job because I only have 2 sides left to fence but, instead there are 6 and I may need to put in a couple more. This requires 12 holes, at least.

This happens because, as my neighbour tells me, either the first surveyor - who marked out the blocks 100 years ago - or the one I hired at great expense to tell me where the boundary is, were drunk at the time. Possibly both. The boundary wanders a bit you see. Nice straight lines are really what you want. They are easier and everyone can admire them.

To make things more interesting, one part of the boundary goes through a Wet season creek line. This means that, although it is like iron at the moment, the ground will turn to soup during the Wet. What will happen to the strainers in there? Two sets of them. I have a plan based on bracing them to others that should be more solid but I don't know if it will work.

The location of these labours is, as I said, well away from anyone along a track that the council does not maintain.

Neighbour gives me a call to discuss shifting his cattle, 'that fence is going to be a bugger to build through that swamp'. Up at the shop to get the paper another bloke 'how many pickets will you be putting in? About 350? They'll be a bugger to drive in that country'. Yet another 'jeez mate, you have taken on a big job there. You should get someone in to give you a hand'.

My current worry is putting up a 1.6 km line, dead straight up a bit of a hill. Problem is that, when it is built, you will get a glimpse of some it from the main road, if you happen to look.

My occasional adviser on matters to do with the development of this block would say to me - I can almost hear her, - 'what does it matter if there is a little kink in the fence. People don't go round checking whether other peoples fences are straight do they? Don't worry about it.'

They aren't watching! They don't look! Don't kid yourself.

An Experiment - Sort of

Well. It has happened. The woman of my dreams has left me. Only for a week though. Has had to go to Perth and Alice Springs. I suspect it is for playing up purposes but she would have me believe she has work to do. Is that believable? And on Saturday night there is a major function in Alice that she is working on getting all done up for. Even less believable.

Now this is a strange situation. You see she is a woman who just loves to shop. She is going to a place where there a lot more shops than here or even in Darwin. Her Perth meeting will only last for a few hours but she has to stay on until she can pick up plane connections. Loads of free time and she is in the center of a city with lots of shops. Should be heaven.

Not so.

She will shop alright, but that simply means looking - and very occasionally trying something on. It doesn't mean actually buying. That is where I come in. Not to pay or anything like that. My role is to work out what she might actually want to buy and then try to convince her to actually make the purchase. I always err on the side of buying more rather than less so it can be a painful process - for me that is. The lady just keeps looking and is totally relaxed about it all. Smiles a lot.

With me not there she is going to be in trouble. Unless there are some excellent specials I suspect that this whole trip will be a shopping failure.

Of course, she may read this post. That will be interesting. I am prepared to punt that she will either buy a lot or buy nothing. Interesting eh? Sneaky perhaps but you have to be sneaky sometimes.