Friday, March 29, 2024

FROM THE RIDGE: Hapless farmer ends up in the soup

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I think I might have been the target of Loki, the Norse God of mischief these last couple of days.
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I’m usually a great believer in that you make your own luck with a positive attitude but I just couldn’t buy a break this time.

The run probably started a couple of days earlier when I sat next to Katie, who sniffled and coughed her way through our car trip. Having finally got over a cold myself, I had my fingers crossed it was the same virus and my immune system, already programmed to resist, would see it off laughing.

No such luck. Yesterday I was full of it and would have preferred a day in bed or at least the office but dragged my sorry frame around the ranch shifting stock and doing chores.

Stopping at the bottom farm 5km from home I was unloading the four-wheeler off the back of the ute when Loki again surfaced. 

Preferring not to ride down the ramps but stand to the side with my thumb on the throttle and guide the steering, somehow one of the ramps dislodged and the bike thudded onto one side of the tailgate before gracelessly bouncing to the ground. The tailgate appeared a bit bent though could be closed but then wouldn’t open again.

Now I couldn’t get my bike back on and would have to lift the dogs up.

I mustered a few cattle to the yards and they broke a slam post and railing.

I shot into town to do a radio show, which surprisingly went error-free.

Around to the panelbeater to show him my foolishness and could he book it in for a bit of a straighten.

“Sorry mate but its bent internally and you’ll have to get a new one somehow.” 

I explained I’d been with the same insurance company for 35 years, hadn’t had a claim for several years and wouldn’t you know it, had just changed companies and was in my third day with them. I said I’d likely not be troubling FMG but would quietly pay for it myself.

Back to the bottom farm to meet a truckload of bulls arriving from Waikato only to hear it had broken down on the Napier-Taupo road.

Despite feeling crook but wanting to do something useful while waiting, I assembled the necessary tools and dug out the broken slam post, replaced and reinstated the railing. Quite pleased with myself, I went and replaced another broken post then sat waiting for the truck as it grew dark until he finally arrived at 7pm. 

It was now too late to quarantine drench and I’d had more than enough for one day so left them in a small paddock and went home.

Next morning after the checks and shifts up here I returned to the other farm.

The new arrivals flew down the lane towards the yards with such gusto they all went through a gateway together and broke yet another slampost.

I started drenching them with the floating hook I’m so adept with and began to feel a dampness down my back. The drench pack was split, my gumboots had drench in them as did my back pocket with a now very soggy ASD form that MPI will be delighted with should they come to visit.

While I was away looking for a replacement pack one of the bulls somehow managed to get out of the race and onto the walkway. I had to dismantle the rail to get him off.

The only replacement pack to hand had the smaller outlet on it so I had to drench the rest of them with four squirts from a lamb drench gun while in the race among the brutes. Naturally, I came off second best but felt some satisfaction as I gave each one a jab for 6-in-1.

Finally, I finished and took them away only to discover the dog had pulled the plastic bag off the fence and eaten my sandwiches intended for lunch but had kindly left the orange and feijoas. Ate lunch.

Then somewhat unenthusiastically and now much later than intended I began vaccinating ewes. I broke more needles than usual and ran out but found a cattle one to finish the job.

The last ewe managed to evade me and sprint back down the race but determined to do 100% I kept her in my sights and grabbed her in the corner of the big yard and wrestled with her. Somehow it was me that fell to the ground and she was on top of me. Exactly opposite to my intention. I vaccinated and let her go and lay there in the mud surrounded by my ewes. 

I wondered now that I’m in my 60th year if I might be getting a bit old for this carry-on.

But then I gazed up at the now dark sky already sprinkled with stars and could see Venus, Jupiter and even Mars rising in the east and thought it could be worse.

At least I had an idea for a column.

Bugger Loki, I mused as I lifted the dog into the ute and drove home to a warm house, a welcoming wife and bowls of hot soup.

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