Friday, March 29, 2024

FROM THE RIDGE: Prepare for the worst, hope for the best

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I’ve just been chased in from an evening muster ready for weaning tomorrow by a skiffy southerly, which dropped the temperature several degrees and reminded me to be better prepared next time – and always have something warm on hand. As I was taught.
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Our country’s position of several islands in the middle of a vast ocean within the roaring forties obviously gives us changeable weather.

These weather changes have caught many people out in the high country – both visitors and Kiwis – and many have paid the price with their lives.

Anyway, I wasn’t in any great peril and only five minutes from the house and a hot shower, but it reinforced that lately the weather has been all over the place even for late spring.

The previous three days had been gloriously still and warm, and it was a great pleasure to be out on the farm. I just hope the southerly will clear overnight and the weaned lambs will be reasonably dry as we must crutch, vaccinate and drench them regardless, and weigh them all as well, as they are the studs.

Just before Labour weekend we were all getting twitchy as. Although most had reasonable feed levels, the ground was very dry, and we were going to get into trouble quickly.

But some modest rainfalls either side of Labour weekend certainly kicked the late spring growth into gear and I quickly went from having good feed levels to losing control and quality rapidly.

The nasty weather pattern that deluged poor Napier with nearly 250mm of rain in one day brought 70mm here, and I hear up to 150mm towards the coast.

For pastoral farmers it was an important rainfall and our biggest daily rainfall for a couple of years. But devastating for those residents of Napier who had their houses inundated or destroyed by slips on the hill.

I’d just started killing my two-year-old bulls, and although tempted to slow that flow of animals off-farm, as they have big mouths and help maintain pasture quality, I have kept quitting them. They are big enough for me at over 600kg and just start doing too much damage. I watched one the other day give his mate a nonchalant flick with his head sending him crashing into the fence, breaking a post and several wires. It’s not like my list of repair jobs wasn’t long enough already.

I can still move quickly in the yards when loading them onto a truck if I have to, but now in my 60s, where the process once was an exciting challenge when things didn’t go according to plan, now there is just anxiety to get them on the truck with as little drama as possible for all concerned.

Mind you, I think my more mindful and cautious approach has probably improved the way the animals react, but I still never take them for granted.

The other reason I’m happy to be down to the last couple of mobs is the uncertainty of where beef prices might go as the pandemic continues on its merry way around the world and a NZ dollar sitting on 69c against the US at the time of writing. Worrying about some scruffy pastures is of less concern.

The same uncertainty about future pricing will see me stick to the annual plan of quitting as many terminal lambs off mum to the works as possible. They were on target a month ago when I drenched them, but I won’t really know until this Sunday when we will have a big day drafting all the killable ones off the first big mob and I’ll check my eye with the scales and put a hand on them. I’ll give them a dag and they will spend the night with mum before being separated again early the next morning, and they too will get a truck ride.

The balance of lambs will be drenched, vaccinated and crutched. Just as all other sheep farmers will be doing over the weeks and months ahead.

It’s busy times on the farm but a culmination of a lot of work, planning and decisions over the course of the year, so also satisfying.

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