It’s an embarrassment that when I see litter in our paddocks. That’s because it’s usually my own: one of my tree guards that has blown off and landed in the creek, or among the ti-tree, or strung up against a barbed-wire fence.
But collecting them again is the easy part. The problem is what to do with the hundreds of covers that stay on, doing their job, and then need to be recycled? Continue reading
I’m unreasonably excited that we’ve been able to make use of an old gate that has been sitting down near the woolshed for nearly fifty years.
When Mum bought the farm Adnamira in January 1967, there were strange items lying all over the place. The previous owner was a bit of a jackdaw who loved to go to auctions and buy the “job lots” at the end, the ones where they piled up everything that didn’t sell and persuaded someone to take it away.
There were three or four fridges, more stoves, a shopping trolley, a twisted no-parking sign and much much more. Continue reading
