I HAVE to confess to feeling more than a little daunted – but excited at the same time – at what lies ahead in the next couple of months.
But just between you and me – and please don’t mention it to anyone else – internally I’m completely freaking out.
So don’t forget, you and I are going to keep that on the quiet.
Right?
Right.
And speaking of right, right now I am getting asked (more than a few times a week) just how is the farm going.
So what’s the honest answer?
Right now, I reckon it would have to be somewhere around a two out of 10.
But a solid two, mind. And even more importantly, I really can see some of that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.
Which should arrive in Lake Boga around about April (well, I didn’t say it was a short tunnel, did I?).
We have steadily been bringing our young stock home during the past few weeks – and looking around the paddocks there is now about 800 of them poking about the place, with a few more still to come.
And that’s exactly what they do, and are doing – they poke about.
Our fences are geared for the more traditional, fat old dairy cows, whose paddock-hopping ambitions are just distant memories (some of occasional successes), curtailed circa 2023 by a combination of gravity and their huge bellies.
Nope, the days of high jumping are long over for these stately ladies, they’re better off (and happy to be) leaving it all to the girls to be the ones trying to leap our fences with a single bound.
So with all these cows in residence, and more to come, the big question is: “how am I going to manage irrigating 3000 acres in the autumn?”
I’m confident I can do it – in the right combination of circumstances.
Such as my phone, and my hoping it doesn’t ring all the time to divert me to other activities.
And then there’s my dodgy foot – it needs to stay at its current diagnosis of dodginess, or better. Or else.
Having access to cheap water is not something any of us ever have all the time, but we have it now.
Which means we need to make sure we have all systems running at full tilt to take advantage.
The key start date of March 1 is approaching fast, and there is a lot of preparation and seeding to be done before then.
All this new land of ours is not really geared for livestock.
Lots of big paddocks, no internal fencing.
Lots of big paddocks, no water troughs.
Lots of big paddocks, no laneways for stock movement.
We have had two lots of fencing contractors here in January and have not made a dent yet. Did I mention lots of big paddocks?
I’m concerned about how we are going to pay back this new farm.
As we all know, and frequently regret, it’s really easy to buy new things, it’s harder to pay for them.
My first bank manager used to say “farm expenditure expands to consume all available income”.
The milk price is good at the moment, the milk production is terrible (due to the wet winter and spring) and for the first time in a couple of years we have nearly caught up with our bills.
But knocking this new bit of land into a useable format for us will keep us poor for some time (see above for big paddocks).
With all these problems ahead of me there is really only one sensible solution to keep my mental health in check.
Go and buy a big, shiny new toy (who mentioned big paddocks?).
