The Donkeys Arrive:Trog and other Animals

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Sean came and inspected our place to ensure its suitability for his girls. Passing the scrutiny, a day later they arrived. We had no choice but to offload them on the same hill that the cows had used. It was not as simple as the cows however, as the donkeys at first refused to budge. When they did move Sean yelled to Rod “Grab the rope! Don’t let go!” Without thinking Rod followed instructions and held on tight as the first donkey offloaded took off. Luckily it ran in through our front gate, gathering speed, the second following close behind. Rod held on tight, running,  jumping boulders in his path as the donkey took off into our little used paddock which was covered in young saplings. Rod, running downhill by now,  was in great danger of  being splattered by a tree or going for a tumble on the rocky ground. I could not stop the laughter welling up at the spectacle although, I knew at any minute a tragedy could unfold.

When finally the donkeys stopped running and we reached him Rod said “ I don’t know why I didn’t just let go. Once they were in the gate they weren’t going anywhere. I just didn’t know if there was a reason I had to hold on.”

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The donkeys soon settled in and Snowflake accepted them as company and the three were to be seen grazing together happily. Once they got used to a routine of being fed in the morning and in the evening if I was a bit late getting there they would loudly bray, a sound which could be heard for up to three kilometers, for me to come and feed them.

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Irene  donkeys 2 Irene Snowflake Irene Snowflake 1 Irene donkeys

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Red Bougainvillea

sun shining on bougainvillaea ©irenewaters 2013

sun shining on bougainvillaea
©irenewaters 2013

bougainvillea © irene waters2013

bougainvillea
© irene waters2013

Its Bougainvillea

its thorny branches repell

while flowers attract

Amazing the difference the sun makes. This is the same bush, taken from opposite sides. The side capturing the sun is a bright red where the side in shadow is more a crimson purple.

 

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Grand

Off on a Grand weekend © irenewaters 2013

Off on a Grand weekend
© irenewaters 2013

The car is loaded – luggage for four adults, 2 children and 2 dogs. Plus car seat, wheelchair and wheely walker.

Dogs in their baskets ©irene waters 2013

Dogs in their baskets
©irene waters 2013

The dogs take the back seat with me. 1 adult and 2 children going by train.

Our grand hotel ©irene waters 2013

Our grand hotel
©irene waters 2013

The Grand Dame waves from the grand balcony © irene waters

The Grand Dame waves from the grand balcony
© irene waters

The grand view from the grand room © irene waters 2013

The grand view from the grand room
© irene waters 2013

The grand staircase ©irene waters 2013

The grand staircase
©irene waters 2013

The adult by train takes the two dogs for a wander © irene waters 2013

The adult by train takes the two dogs for a wander
© irene waters 2013

dogs are catered for with room service © irene waters 2013dogs are catered for with room service
© irene waters 2013

Never having been in such grand surroundings prior to this, I soaked it all in. That combined with the grand views made this a truly grand weekend.

the outdoor spa and water exercise course ©irene waters2013

the outdoor spa and water exercise course
©irene waters2013

the indoor pool ©irene waters 2013

the indoor pool
©irene waters 2013

the restaurant's veggie garden. nothing but fresh ©irene waters 2013

the restaurant’s veggie garden. nothing but fresh
©irene waters 2013

the children's pool and play room © irenewaters 2013

the children’s pool and play room
© irenewaters 2013

the infinity edge outdoor pool ©irene waters 2013

the infinity edge outdoor pool
©irene waters 2013

one of the lounges © irene waters2013

one of the lounges
© irene waters2013

the terrace ©irene waters 2013

the terrace
©irene waters 2013

from the terrace © irene waters 2013

from the terrace
© irene waters 2013

A truly grand hotel ©irene waters2013

A truly grand hotel
©irene waters2013

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Finding Donkeys: Trog and Other Animals

donkey @irene waters 2013

donkey @irene waters 2013

Rod was still determined to get a couple of donkeys and the donkey woman from Krambach had told him that she knew of an Irishman who had a couple for sale on a property slightly to the east. Krambach was a small village which consisted of  Bucketts Way, the main road which is flanked on either side with small old timber or fibre houses, approximately twelve in total.  It also has a general store (until it burnt down), a post office, pub and a petrol station which also had a good reputation if you were in the market for a chain saw. A road came off the main road which went to the Pacific Highway and there were some more houses here. Probably there were no more than twenty houses in all. So it was quite surprising to find a nunnery with primary school attached and a golf course. Rod played once at the golf course which had the greens fenced. When you got to the green you had to open a gate to go inside to do your putting. The reason for this was to keep not only the cows off  but also the kangaroos. The fairways had an abundance of these creatures as well as a large variety of bird life.

Not long after leaving Krambach we saw the Irish flag flying which was our indication to turn into the driveway. It was a long forrested drive crossing a couple of dams,  which were full of geese and ducks, before arriving at a clearing which held some ramshackle sheds and an old caravan. The Irishman, Sean, greeted us and took us over to a small fenced paddock. An old race horse that was almost blind and had virtually no teeth was standing at the fence.

“I saved him from the knackers yard. He’s a beautiful beastie but I don’t think he’s long for the world. He’s finding it hard to eat. When he goes I’m going back to Ireland. I want to see the old country afore I go.” Sean didn’t seem that old, no more than ten years older than Rod but he did seem to be in a degree of pain.

“He’s beautiful.” I said. “Look at the donkeys!” I exclaimed, tugging on Rod’s arm. The two donkeys were coming at a run. They obviously recognised Sean and from the way they were nuzzling him when they arrived they obviously loved him as well.

“I hurt my back at work” Sean was saying “and I’m on permanent disability but I got a compensation payment so I can afford a trip to Ireland. I have to make sure the girls are well looked after afore I go.”

“We’ll make sure we look after them. How much do you want for them?” Rod asked.

“Afore I let them go anywheres I have to come and look and see its suitable for the girls and if it is I’d be happy with $250 for both. I don’t want them separated. They’ve been together all their lives.” We petted the donkeys for some time and got the ins and outs of donkey husbandry. Foot care was the most important aspect to good donkey maintenance as being a desert animal its hoofs need regular trimming and protection from diseases and abscesses caused by being on wet soft ground. Shelter was also required as the donkey’s coat would soak up the moisture from rain which make it very uncomfortable for the animal.

We went with Sean whilst he fed his chickens and geese and locked them up for the night and then had a cup of tea in his caravan. Birds flew in and roosted on various trees, chairs and shed rafters, coming to Sean when he came out with food for them.  We were impressed with how this man lived alone, communing with nature, isolated from any modern conveniences. Although some may say we were doing that very thing, in reality it was quite different as we had the luxury of modern conveniences and hopefully one day people to share it with.

 

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Shadow

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Alone, no not now

My faithful shadow follows

company, always there.

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Blue Tongue: Lingering Look at Windows

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A lingering look

A Blue Tongue on the louvres

Climbing up to where?

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Mrs Wiggins: Trog and other Animals

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“Not to worry” Darrell said when he heard about the loss of our pig.  “I’ve got a lovely pig fer yer. A good baconer. Long and lean. She won’t try and get out. Fact is yer don’t have to pen her. Too big for a dingo ter take.”

“I’m more worried about the dam” Rod said.

“That other one got a bit of wild blood. Yer no have to worry with this one.”

And so Mrs Wiggins arrived on the farm. This time I loved her. She was friendly and very, very pink. Mungo, the dog, and she formed a close attachment. Every morning Mungo would do the rounds of all living creatures to check that all was well. When he was let out of the laundry in the morning he would race up the stairs to our bedroom, sliding on the polished timber floors, legs splayed in his eagerness to greet the person still in bed. Off he would go then to say good morning to the chickens, Snowflake and Mrs Wiggins. We erected a beach umbrella above the dam as we didn’t want Mrs Wiggins to get sunburnt and she and Mungo were often seen lying under it together as though they were at the French Riviera.

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We had enclosed an area under the house for Mungo for the rare occasion that we had to leave the property without him. We arrived home one day to find that Mrs Wiggins had broken the fence separating the house from the paddock and was lying stretched out along the wire on one side of Mungo’s enclosure whilst Mungo was stretched out inside, as close to each other as they could get. This became a regular habit until we arrived home to find Mrs Wiggins had dug up our septic system. The stench was horrendous and she had created a quagmire of grey slimy sludge.

We were in a state of anxiety as we had been working away at being approved for bed and breakfast status and with a development application in to Taree Council we knew an inspector would come and check our facilities any time in the near future.

Having spent that night researching the internet for the mechanics of a septic system we set out the next day to do our version of a transpiration leech field. This is the area that the almost clean liquid waste from the septic tank drains to and in the process of soaking through the soil and feeding roots from the vegetation above does the final cleaning process and eventually returns into the water system as crystal clear water. The system that had been there prior to our pig uprooting it was purely a pipe which discharged the fluid into a shallow gravel pit and then it soaked into the soil from there.  Now it was this grey sludge which we sank into, almost up to our knees. Even our gumboots did little to protect us. We decided that we needed to increase the field in which the fluid drained and to this end we used ag pipe across the top with two L joins at the end and several T sections so we could continue down the hill. This we laid in trenches filled with gravel and we laid shade-cloth over that (to prevent the holes from clogging) followed by more gravel and then covered all of that with soil and planted ground cover over that. It was a huge amount of work, all done by hand, in difficult terrain. Starting at seven am and finishing at five pm we finished in four days.

The building/health inspector arrived two days later. We held our breath but all was declared satisfactory.  Mrs Wiggins was confined to the huge new pen we had built for her  but it didn’t stop Mungo stopping to pass the time of day.

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Black and White Buildings

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Our First Pig: Trog and other Animals

One day we came across some donkeys in Krambach. We got talking to the woman who owned them and from that time we were determined that donkeys would  roam our paddocks. This would ease our concern that Snowflake, the miniature horse, was lonely and we hoped donkeys might give her some company.

“Wada yer want donkeys fer?” Darrell asked when we next saw him. “Good fer nuttin.”

“I thought I might teach them to follow me around with saddle bags that I could load with wood. I’m finding it difficult lugging the wood up the hill.” I had exhausted the supply around the house and thought this might be a way around it.

“Donkeys don’t do nuttin yer tell em to. What yer need is a pig.”

“What do we want a pig for?” Rod asked.

“Them tourists that stay here’ll like to see a pig.”

That was probably true. “But we don’t know the first thing about pigs.”

“Yers can keep it next to the chickens. Already got a pen there just needs fixing a bit but yer can let the pig out to wander during the day. Just lock him up of a night.”

I was almost sold on the idea. Glancing at Rod I could see he would need a bit more convincing. “Pigs are supposed to make great pets.”

“Did yer see that program on the telly t’other night. Woman had a pet pig. Lived in the house. She even let it go on the lounge. I think that’s a bit much but a pig shore do make a place a farm. I ‘ve got one you can have.”

I looked at Rod pleadingly. “ If you want one you can get it but I still think we should get some donkeys.”

“Thanks darling” I directed to Rod “yes we’ll take him” directed to Darrell “and I agree we should get some donkeys” directed to no-one in particular.

 

similar pig (but mine was even uglier) taken by Christopher Hume Invasive Animals CRC

similar pig (but mine was even uglier) taken by Christopher Hume Invasive Animals CRC

The pig arrived five days later. I was a little disappointed  as I was expecting a pink, almost hairless pig but instead we found ourselves confronted with an ugly, black and white bristly haired animal that held no appeal whatsoever. It held even less appeal as the days went on as it was an expert escapologist. No matter what repairs we did to the run next to the chicken house it was out the next morning. Most mornings we found it rooting around in the dam and we feared that it would destroy the little water holding ability it had left. We were at our wits end about what to do when on the sixth night it was with us it disappeared without trace. We are convinced that it became a snack for a dingo or fox but it lives on as a dinner party story told by our friend Helen who likes to tell of the pig named Helen after her who was eaten by a dingo.

 

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Silence

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“Cold and silence. Nothing quieter than snow. The sky screams to deliver it, a hundred banshees flying on the edge of
the blizzard. But once the snow covers the ground, it hushes as still as my heart.”

― Laurie Halse AndersonSpeak

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