The Good Farmer

Leaf mould in the making...

Wheat-bix

Sowing is finished for the year. The wheat is in the ground and now its just a matter of watching it grow - and watching weather forecasts on the net. The Farmer will check the weather at least three times a day. If there is a strong forecast for rain, he checks it hourly to see where its falling and follows it in until we hear it on the tin roof. If there is talk of good rain in the district all those at Pine Hill seem to spend the day looking up at the sky. This year the sky seems to be remembering how to rain, and it could be suggested that there is a link between the forecasts and what actually falls from the clouds... but I'm not going to discuss rainfall too much in fear of jinxing what looks like a promising year. The Farmer hasn't been able to sow the crop this early for years - it has always been too dry, forcing them to wait for rain providing the seed with enough moisture to germinate. This year, soil moisture levels and warm autumn soil temperatures punched the little plants out of the ground and a green tinge across the paddocks came in a matter of days.

Colour Comforts

Autumn has come and just about gone. The reds, oranges and yellows of deciduous trees in the garden has been so lovely to live with - colours would bounce off the walls in the sunroom in the afternoon. There are still some leaves on the old pear tree, and a few roses are still in flower - bonica (which despite being in constant flower I fear is a bit too nanna-pink for my taste); iceberg; heritage; jude the obscure; and felicia (who has proved my doubts wrong) is having a great time in the cool weather. The burnt orange rose Summer Song, now finished for the season, had one last flower that looked so lovely beside the autumn colour of the old pear tree. I have taken some cuttings and stuck them in the ground around the one bush I have, to see if I can create more of this picture next year. I'm still removing over-excited ground covers from around the base of roses. There is talk of The Farmer filling a truck with manure from the cattle yards - too exciting for words.

The fire is burning all day and night, slow cooked beef is often on the menu, and the chooks have taken to wandering underneath the house and sitting under the fireplace -its funny listening to them chatter while I sit in the living room. Pause. Not too much chook-talk - I promised.