Achieve

My bank account has gone ouch and my sweat has poured as I’ve just finished building a kit dog cage, with a little bit of help from Roddy and Jewels, for the pooch. Safe from wild dogs and with way more room to move than being on the chain (which she and I both hated anyway) she had better appreciate it! It’s by no means great. It still requires shade cloth, a moated bowl for her tucker, milk crates or a plastic pallet for the kennel to sit on… Oh yes, the kennel. The one that had me realising that I should have put it inside the cage before I put the chain link on but the realisation came too late. Lucky I didn’t give away that old gate Mookster gave me mid last year. I may need to enlist the help of some tall people to get it over the top instead. Wink, wink.
Also on the list of things achieved is the “planting” of my pumpkin seedlings. Planted on the Saturday, 5 are dead, 13 are dying and 3 are amazingly alive. It’s only Monday so as predicted by nearly everyone, including myself, my gardening “skills” are radiant. There will be some survivors though because I put them aside for a friend to put in the garden of her new home.
I finally cut off the tops of six old chemical drums to use as blocks once filled with concrete to sit my future shipping container on. Their hobbies include blowing across the flat during storms and filling with rainwater.
I’ve christened my new spray unit by spraying weeds along the front of my block. This was followed by a lovely drive through six foot high, seeded black spear grass to inspect the dam. It appears from the comfort of my air conditioned car that it has water in it.
Future achievements may include, but are not limited to, finishing the keyhole garden, constructing a Tigger version of a Warrka Water tower (google it), finish pulling out the old fence, finish spraying before the weeds begin to flower, have the boundary slashed (since now I can’t afford to buy my own tow-behind slasher because my car is falling apart), plant my fruit trees before they die (they’re already showing signs of a zinc deficiency) and to regularly look back upon this list to keep myself accountable.
So this is where I leave you for the time being, as the dark of the night and the storm approaches, doing bugger all in my cruddy, little caravan, procrastinating at the simple task of feeding myself some dinner. Farewell!

NB: Dinner didn’t happen.

Eat

Most people don’t realise I cook with a billy can on hexamine tablets for dinner. I will probably die from aluminium poisoning. My anti-perspirant also contains aluminium. I’m okay with that.
Back to the point, what do I eat?
If I’m lazy or late getting back to the block I crack open a canned stew or baked beans or drive through McDonalds. If I’m back before 6pm I scrounge around hoarded ingredients in my fridge that better serves as a pantry. The staples generally are rice and pasta and more recently cous cous and pulses. Potatoes are purchased if I’m guaranteed to spend more than a few days out on the block (this goes for pumpkin and tomato too).

Rice: I have attempts at risotto using stock cubes, dehydrated peas and parmesan. Or paella using a can of diced tomato, a mini can of diced capsicum and a mini can of corn kernels.

Pasta: Napolitana was a staple which included a can of diced tomato and heaps of parmesan. Macaroni and cheese is always a favourite, from a packet, occasionally with a small can of tuna thrown in to bulk it up. Future recipes may include pumpkin pasta which includes tomato and parmesan.

Pulses: Tomato Lentil Curry happened a couple of times, with pumpkin thrown in for good measure. On the horizon is a non-descript soup.

Cous Cous: Moroccan cous cous was on the menu last night of which only half was eaten as I put too much spice in though I did add one of those kiddie sultana and dried apple packets to give a more authentic taste. Pumpkin and cous cous tagine is on the cards.

Potatoes: Feeling lazy? That’s fine. Punish oneself by peeling and cleaning a spud (I buy the dirty spuds for out here as they preserve slightly better) and dicing it. Boiled with some dehydrated peas, a small can of buttered mushrooms is added to the mix and disappointment ensues with my lacklustre dinner. I can’t even give that a name. Otherwise it’s a mock potato bake which is basically a potato sliced thinly, boiled, then poured over with UHT thickened cream and parmesan.

Why no camp oven? Because I’m frigging lazy. I don’t want to dig a hole. I don’t want to light a fire. I don’t want to fill a hole with the coals from a fire I didn’t want to light. I don’t want to spend money on buying a camp oven.
Why no meat? No refrigeration and I make up for the meat factor in canned meals, lunch at work and McDonalds.
Why no fresh veggies other than pumpkin, potato and tomato? See “Why no meat?”. Tomatoes are stored at work and brought out as needed.
Why don’t I get a little gas stove? I don’t want one. They blow up and I don’t want one. I see no sense in spending large amounts of money on a temporary situation. That money is better spent paying for light fittings and door handles and such.
Are there other foods in the fridge? Yes. Though I just uninspiringly stare at these. Deb mashed potato is part of this equation. Raspberry cordial is not stared at, it is drunk. Ingredients that aid in the baking and icing of cakes are stared at. I wonder why they are there.

Wheel

The wheel has undeniably been the most important invention of the human species. Some may argue that no, it was the iPhone. Those people are silly. Without the wheel, civilisation would have never been built and the iPhone never invented. So it all lies with the invention the wheel and how fantastic that individual, who realised its potential, was. For one wheel has dragged me out of the mire and up the hill and to my shitty caravan. Yes, I’m back on the block.
For the best part of five months I’ve managed to avoid the hole via house sitting which itself hasn’t been without adventures. I’ve even headed to the big smoke a few times during those months and stayed in the comfort of a hotel and a B & B. But nothing gets the wooden spoon like fighting your way through months’ worth of cobwebs to find your bed covered in dirt, dead insects and gecko presents. Dog is quite happy about the situation. She gets to run around and hunt for grasshoppers and sleep all day and run some more. My current native pervert is a blue-winged kookaburra who flies about while Thor slams his hammer above Pine Creek and the Douglas Daly.
While procrastinating getting out of an invention that is carried along by four wheels that sometimes get stuck and needing another four wheels to get out and then another four wheels again to get completely out (google a bloke called Kor Blund, he has a fantastic song about this very situation) I thanked the heavens, no, not really, thanked my Dad for buying me a little wheel for my birthday. This little wheel means I don’t have to get my four wheels stuck again through laziness over the issue of having to walk somewhere inundated with stuff. This little wheel fit nicely onto my wheelbarrow of which the original wheel perished some time ago leaving a garden bed half built.
With the new lease on life on the wheelbarrow I can now push my crap uphill to the camp rather than lug and drag it all. Then I can bring it back down the hill empty so I can push it back uphill full of more crap. So thank you to the inventor of the wheel and thanks even more to my Dad for gifting me one.

The List

Broken: Caravan door, a total of three times. Present state: Fixed.

Broken: Gazebo, caused by mysterious circumstances. Present state: In the dump.

Broken: Wheelbarrow has a flat tyre. Present state: Ignored.

Broken: Solar fairy lights that lead to the toilet. Present state: Ignored.

Dead: Banana plants. Cause: Grey water overdose.

Dead: Potato. Cause: Lack of water.

Problem: Ant plague. Cause: Long forgotten dog food.

Unwanted visitors: One, Satan's human equivalent.

Feral animals: Rufus, the boar (yes, I've named him). One ginger cat.

Enjoyments: Bird watching at Big Dam.

Enjoyments: Listening to a young curlew find its voice.

Enjoyments: Watching a sugar glider go from tree to tree as the sun sets.

Progress: Boundary slashed.

Progress: Driveway and front of block graded.

Progress: House site cleared in preparation for building.

Future: Getting ready for the next adventure!

Door

Two posts in one week. That’s how exciting life is in the sticks.
There was not much enthusiasm to go back to work at my second job after being away on leave. Upon discovering one of my new colleagues was difficult to get along with I was even less interested. I spent my lunch break googling other ways to have a second income that fits my skill set and energy levels. There wasn’t a great deal out there, not in Katherine and not without reliable internet.
When I did get to work on the second night the chef noticed I looked like crap. Without even realising, my face was speaking without my jaw flapping. Less than an hour later a migraine was in full swing. Before leaving I noticed I was rostered on for two nights the next weekend. What happened to my specified “No Weekends”?
When I got home I was keen to just get to bed and get some sleep. During the day there must have been a big gust of wind that had ripped the tarp down (again), blew some things around and shut the caravan door. I opened the door and out rushed one very excited and desperate for the loo dog. She came out so quickly her chain got caught and yanked on the bottom of the door and next minute, there it is, swinging off one lonely, bent hinge. I stared at it. My shitty caravan was even more shitty thanks to the dog getting trapped inside. And then there’s that horrible moment, that epiphany, that I might be sick of working two jobs but my less-than-comfortable life was made even slightly less comfortable and quitting would mean I’d have to wait over two years before I can build a house rather than just one.
Tonight’s activities are obviously going to involve rehanging the door. It didn’t bother me that I couldn’t run the generator for the air con last night, I was too tired to care. What did bother me was Kip’s singular barks to indicate how pissed off she was about having to sleep outside. Too bad dog, such is life.

Plan B

Will Smith reckoned there was no reason to have a Plan B because it distracts from Plan A. Well, what if you never had a Plan B because you didn’t expect Plan A to go to hell in a hand-basket? Hmmm? Answer me that Will Smith!
Plan A was very simple. Purchase a 12v camp shower. Put the bilge pump in the water pod. Put the other bit in the cigarette lighter of the Landcruiser and voila! A shower with a decent flow, enough to wash ones hair.
That lasted a little while, till mid-December when I was half way through dying my hair. The fuse blew. So instead of leaving the dye in for the necessary time, here’s me, on the back of the ute, flopped all over the top of the pod so I can scoop the water out with a cup and wash the dye out of my hair before it burns my scalp from being there too long. When I had time and daylight to spare I replaced the fuse. I checked to make sure it was working and I was satisfied that when I returned to camp and needed a shower I would be able to with the now-fixed camp shower. But nooo, that wasn’t meant to be!
It’s now early April and I’ve returned to camp. Head to toe in flakes of tarpaulin and covered in diesel and the days sweat I was ready for a shower. Fuse blown… Again! I didn’t know whether to curse the Landcruiser for blowing the fuse or the camp shower for having too weak of a fuse supplied (even the spare). So instead of flailing all over the top of the pod to scoop out water to wash myself I stared at the tap at the bottom wishing I had got my act together ages ago to fit it with joiners and 2 inch pipe so the water can at least run out beyond the Landcruiser tray and I could catch it in a bucket. Instead I’m wedging the bucket underneath the tap and getting things done at a slow pace. A Plan B was needed. And the other night Plan B was installed.
A bucket, a pulley, rope and a drill. Plan B is up a tree. And it’s not that bloody great. It’s amazing that while I was using this basic system that all the physics I actually did manage to learn at school flashed before my eyes. The fulcrum (ie: the handle) is not in the right spot for optimum pouring. It needs to be around the middle of the bucket, not at the top. The rope at the spout that tilts the bucket is only capable of pouring so much out before I have to push the bucket up from the bottom with soap in my eyes. A new drilled hole in the bucket and a rethreading of rope is in order!
So much drama just for a flipping shower!

Plan A: 12v Camp Shower with the bilge directly in the water pod.

Plan B: A bucket suspended from a tree with rope and a pulley.

Agronomy

I’ll be running my horses on my property later on in the year so I thought it would be a good idea to know what pasture I’ve got, whether it’s any good and if I can run more than just my two horses as I would like to be able to agist another two.
Having 74 acres I thought that four horses could well be viable but according to Artie, a very well-respected agronomist, that ain’t gonna happen. Well, it can if I am happy to supplement feed them.
“Two is fine, three is pushing it”. Well, time for a Plan B.
We drove around the property while he identified the pastures that I didn’t know and the pastures I did. With that came the learning of new pastures I hadn’t heard of or knew very little about. On a piece of scrap paper I wrote down every pasture and stylo and other fodder of significance identified. Against them all I wrote a number with 1 being good, 1.5 okay, 2 crap and 3 needs-to-go.

Species	Value/ Desirability	Purpose	What Eats It
Annual Sorghum	2	Pasture	Cattle
Perennial Sorghum	1	Pasture	Horses, cattle
Cockatoo Grass	1	Pasture	Horses, cattle
Ribbon Grass	1.5	Pasture	Cattle
Blunt Spear Grass	1.5	Pasture	Cattle
Northern Cane Grass	3	Weed Grass	Nothing
Spiny Mud Grass	1	Pasture	Horses, cattle
Cynodydon racuatus	1.5	Pasture	Horses, cattle
Three Horn Spear Grass	3	Weed Grass	Nothing
Kangaroo Grass	1	Pasture	Cattle
Sedge	3	Weed Grass	Cattle
Buffalo Clover	1.5	Nitrogen Improver	Cattle
Seca	1.5	Feed/Nitrogen Improver	Cattle
Verano	1	Feed/Nitrogen Improver	Horses, cattle
Glen Joint Vetch	1	Feed/Nitrogen Improver	Horses, cattle

 

The overall outcome was that I seriously lacked perennials (seca, verano and perennial sorghum, cockatoo grass, kangaroo grass and spiny mud grass was the best I had). The rest were annuals or unwanted grasses. Artie suggested I fix this with Strickland Grass if I could keep the wallabies off it. I can’t see me being successful at that. I asked about whether I could fertilise my perennials but sadly native pastures don’t respond to fertiliser like introduced pasture species do.
The second dam I have (that being the smaller one) has always looked to me like it was natural. Thankfully, Artie agreed. It doesn’t hold like the other dam does, there’s no mess of earth in terms of walls etc. and the trees are quite close to it. And the spiny mud grass that grows all through it will be a feast for the horses.

If you’re in the Katherine region and would like to know more about  pastures and land conditions then come down to the Farm and Garden Day at Katherine Research Station on Saturday the 16^th of April 2016.
If you live too far from the Katherine region but would like to know more, DPI & F offer Agnotes on pastures and these can be found at this link:
http://www.nt.gov.au/d/publications/index.cfm?fi=Pasture

 

Spiny Mud Grass covers the Little Dam