Lest we forget...

In a week that has been frought with misfortune and stress, I was reminded today of how fortunate I am to have what I have and to be doing what I do. It is so easy to dwell on the bad things that happen to us in life, and every now and then we need to stop.

breathe.

reboot.

About 2 weeks ago, I had to drive to the bottom of the farm to rescue dear Pops from the mud (Yes! Mud! - the rains have arrived!) in my good old faithful cruiser that has seen better days, I must have seen at least ten different bird species, along with several Reed buck, a banded mongoose and a jackal. The birds included all three crane species - rare and endangered birds that we are lucky enough to have on the farm. I drove along the headlands of our maize lands, the sight of mini maize plants standing to attention in their straight lines such a simple joy to eyes accustomed to cracked earth and dry dams. The scattering lapwings with their cacophony of protests as I disturbed their morning sojurn with my noisy, mechanical beast that rumbled past, inspecting the lands and revelling in the muddy slips and slides that added an exciting element of adventure to our little outing. To top it all off, I got to watch as a Gymnogene swooped in to harass a tree full of weavers and, hanging from a branch by one leg, used the other to pluck an unsuspecting weaver out of the nest he was building, and then fly off followed by a flock of frenzied weaver bombers.

Gratitude.

Being grateful for the small things in life. 

Being awed by nature's bountiful offering of life (and death) and appreciating the simple thruths and wonders of the world. 

For the bad times that make you appreciate the good times so much more than you would have if they had come more easily. 

For the struggles that result in hard earned rewards and the satisfaction of a job well done.

For little people who test your limits and full your heart with joy.

For the tantrums and fevers that eventually abate and the giggles and kisses that replace them.

For differences of opinion, yet unconditional love.

For health and happiness.

For Life.

Hi, my name is Leigh, and I am a pluviophile...

The rains have arrived!

Glorious, saturating, overflowing, rain...

I never thought I would be so happy to see mud again. Every time I head out onto the farm I intentionally drive through every puddle so that the resulting spray painted effect of muddiness covers my bakkie like a coat of armour which is then flaunted around the village with pride and joy - until Corks forces me to wash it all off - such a spoilsport...

I just cannot get enough of the stuff. I know that in about 3 weeks time I will be hating it, but for now I'm going to revel in the splendour of glorious wet earth.

In the last two weeks we have had close to 100mm of rain. There is actually water in the top dam near the highway for the first time in over 6 months. The picture on the left was taken just over a week ago - the entire dried out surface of the dam littered with the skeletal remains of thousands of fish. If you look at it today, you would hardly believe that it even looked like this at all. It's such a sight for sore eyes to see precious water once again flowing into the dam.

The weather has been tumultuous, to say the least. The storms have blown in fast on strong North Westerly winds and dumped torrents of rain amid flashing lightning and deafening thunder. There has been a wild kind of desperation to them, as though they're in some sort of race. I'll even admit that the thunder has made me jump on several occasions. Mother Nature deserves the utmost respect and lightning is not something to smirk at around these parts...

Luckily, so far there has been no real damage from these storms, apart from the odd fallen tree and stuck vehicle. Just lots and lots of much needed rain and runoff. The pastures have awakened with renewed vigour - who could have imagined that the Kildare desert still had some life in it after all? - and the cows were absolutely thrilled to return to eating grass again after an 8 month period of being fed anything that we could find to keep them going.

The drought has broken and our hearts are full of hope once more...

There's a new Spring in my step!

Spring has sprung in the Midlands!

And not a moment too soon as we are still desperate for some rain... Temperatures are soaring and everything is "greening up" - a welcome sight for tired eyes. Tired of looking out over dust and brown, dead nothingness. All of that is changing now, and there is a glimmer of hope on the horizon. One thing is for sure, everyone is a lot happier now that the grass is growing! It feels like a dead weight has been lifted off our shoulders. We still have a long way to go, but it feels more bearable now with everything around us making an effort to be alive again!

And boy have we had life in the last few days! A baby boom from the heifers - 25 new babies in 2 weeks! There are calves EVERYWHERE! It's such a welcome sight to have all these little moos running around. Its awesome to watch those first few wobbly steps as a new born calf finds her feet, and so incredible to see them instinctively head for that udder the minute they have the standing thing wrapped up. Nature is amazing.

 Being Spring time, there is the mandatory need for a major change. This usually comes in the form of an epic spring clean. This year it has come in the form of a veranda face lift! Out with those raggedy old draughty windows, and in with some functional spacious retractable doors! Gin and tonic evenings on the stoep just stepped up a level...

Before...

Destruction!!

The end result - magnificent!

There is finally some water in the dams (thanks to 24hour pumping out of our new boreholes) and we have been grafting at pivot maintenance to get the irrigation back up to speed after 8 months of dormancy! Replacing stolen cables, resurrecting hidden hydrants, and digging up 600m of old pivot lines to build new transfer schemes, have all been worth it just to see that first bit of water being irrigated onto the Kildare desert after the most debilitating drought in over a century - something that could become a more regular occurrance with global warming. It literally brought tears to my eyes watching that pivot start up again for the first time since I got back to work after Isla was born. That's how long it has been! Hard to believe that a whole year has passed since the arrival of our little monkey changed our lives forever...

At least someone is appreciating the warm weather - hows this sexy little chick in her cute farm cap? She cant wait to get into the little pool her aunty Robz got her for her 1st birthday. Definitely got those thighs from her mom. Not too sure about that complexion though - must be a serious throw back from the Irish/Welsh genes!

I'm pretty sure that she will have to share her pool with a couple of labradors though... they cannot wait for Summer. Neither can we to be honest - that rainfall!! Bring on the floods!!

Cloudy with a chance of the white stuff...

For once in my life I can honestly say that I am actually hoping that it snows this weekend. The forecasts look good, and we are so prepared for it, to the point that if it doesn't snow, I might even be slightly disappointed!

What has happened to that crazy ranting tourist hater who usually condemns snow and the tourists it brings to the farm? I've put her in her box for this weekend only. She needs to know that this year a big snow event will be a much needed lifeline to this floundering vessel. The more we get, the better for our pastures and dams.

So, bring on the white stuff.

I promise to behave and try be nice to tourists. I wont even do donuts over your snowmen in the John Deere, or offer you some yellow snow. I MIGHT even smile and wave. Stranger things have happened.

One thing is for sure - I will definitely enjoy sharing Isla's first snow experience, after which we'll all snuggle up in front of the fire place with some gluwein (not for Isla, of course), and marvel at the winter wonderland outside. There's nothing more peaceful than that silence when snow is falling. 

It might not be so bad after all...

August 2012 - Feeding in the snow, not fun

Beautiful but not fun to work in!

Catchup...

Life has been crazy for the past few months. Every time I sit down to start a blogpost, something takes me away again after a few sentences. Needless to say, my draft box is full of half-posts that are incomplete and now also largely out of context and irrelevant. Ahh...the life of a working mom! Hence, I do apologise for the lack of witty and entertaining posts over the last few months, but now I hope to beguile you once again with my scribblings, as I seem to finally have mastered the art of parenthood...hah!!(Not really, but I'm trying to convince myself that I actually have my sh*t together and I'm not a complete gibbering wreck of my former self...)

Dismantling the parlour in the old dairy at Fordoun

Now - I realised yesterday that, amidst all the chaos of becoming parents and struggling with our worst drought in a century, I never updated you all on the move into the new dairy! The last time we spoke of it was a few days before Isla's unceremoniously early entry into this world. That was over 9 months ago...crazy, I know. So I wanted to get you all "caught up" on the goings on at Kildare Farm!

Moving an entire dairy operation in one day is no easy task. You have to still milk the cows, twice a day, one way or another. So, our day started bright and early (whats new) on Fordoun farm, where we milked the whole herd from 4-7:30am. A daunting task lay ahead after that morning session - to dismantle the entire parlour and move it across to Kildare in time for afternoon milking at 2:30pm. And lets not forget that I weighed about as much as a cow at the time - 38weeks pregnant and feeling like my drying-off period was way overdue! Needless to say, I think I was about as comfortable as a hippo in a leotard...

Once everything was stripped out of the old parlour, and after it had been cleaned and tested, it was then reinstalled in the new dairy, one stall at a time! A laborious task indeed... and finally, at around 4pm, the girls all queued up for their afternoon mammary massage. Don't they look excited?

The first milking in the new dairy, 15 September 2015

All stations go! 15 September 2015

Support crew - making dinner

A few teething problems here and there, and a lot of dunging cows that required some protective clothing on our part (and a good shampooing later on), resulted in a successful first session that wrapped up at about 10pm - clearly far too strenuous for this pregnant mama who ended up popping a whole week early as a result! Luckily it was a whole team effort, and many happy smiles and helping hands really pulled everything together.

After eight months of watching the new structure come together, our patience and tenacity was finally rewarded as we watched those buxom bovines enjoying their new high-tech dairy. It was almost as though they had a twinkle in their eyes and a spring in their step as they crossed the threshold into a new era of dairy farming on Kildare farm.

I cannot believe that it has almost been a year already that we have been in the new dairy, time has flown past! Just shows you how preoccupied one gets with having a little person entering the equation! Now all we need is some rain, and hopefully these cows will start to earn their keep again.

Come on Spring - GET HERE!

Champagne to celebrate a successful first milking in the new dairy!

A great change is coming...

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

Excerpt from "A Tale of Two Cities" by Charles Dickens

The Winter of despair. Words that ring so true to my ears as I look out over the scorched patch that used to be our main dam, now reduced to a muddy puddle overcrowded by birds, frogs and fish, that squabble with each other over the last few drops of natures most precious resource. The cracks beneath my boots shatter the landscape in all directions - 20 hectares of dried earth. The pumps ran dry months ago, hence the desert-like landscape of our pastures, where every last blade of grass has burnt off and returned to dust. 

Dust. Everywhere. 

The dry Winter breeze picking it up and throwing it into the air in mini tornado's that spiral upwards towards the crisp, cloudless heavens and race away across the desert that should be lush pastures of knee-high rye grass. Skeletal irrigation pivots that tower over the parched land - brand new, used once, just standing, parked, waiting. Planters and Discs and other mechanical monsters stand parked, desolate, waiting. All waiting. For the rain that never comes.

A brand new dairy, wonderful, latest technology - but a herd that dwindles as the bills keep piling up, cows being the only currency during these trying times. Desperate times calling for desperate measures...

Utter devastation. 

Yet, amidst all of the despair there is a small beacon of hope. It is evident that, in times of struggle, the truly amazing people of this world reveal themselves. We have been blessed with such people in our lives. Selfless, caring friends who have organised 200 donated bales of hay to be delivered, free of charge. Friends who have also divined and dug a brand new, 12000litres/hour borehole to help supplement our water supply, as our dams are literally empty. Friends who continue to support and encourage us to keep our heads up and soldier forward. True friends. Greatly appreciated friends.

Drought relief arriving at Kildare

Borehole diggings - different types of rock at each level - down to 120m

The new borehole

Pumping the water into the existing system

Looking out of the window this morning at dairy - the cows munching away at their silage and hay, quietly processing their food into valuable litres of white gold - I realise that, although we are experiencing a really tough winter, life carries on and we just have to hang in there and do the best we can. With over 800 mouths to feed every day, one cannot just roll over and go back to sleep. The air is fresh, the sun is up, and another day has dawned with new challenges. 

Take a deep breath of clean, crisp morning air, and J.F.D.I.

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy."

Martin Luther King, JR.

The quarter quell

A quarter of 2016 is gone.

25%

91 days out of 365...

Can anyone tell me please where the time has gone?? I feel like it was only yesterday that we were cutting christmas cake and drinking too much champagne....and only now has the proverbial "New Year's hangover" kicked in.

The first month of this year honestly felt like the aftermath of a frontal lobotomy. My brain was completely donated to my daughter at birth, of this I am 100% convinced. Trying to juggle going back to work and still dealing with being an amateur at motherhood is hard! On a good day I feel like a complete muppet, and I can only hope that this is a temporary affliction - it really is quite difficult getting by without one's brain...

In my moments of lucidity, I find myself wondering how we must have spent our spare time before bubs came along. My conclusion is that we probably spent it poorly, and definitely did not appreciate it at all, as it now seems to be some sought after fantasy that is forever out of reach. How I miss those selfish walks alone, and the irresponsibility of being able to drop everything and disappear to Durban for a quick evening treat at the movies. On the same note though, I couldn't imagine my life without mini-me. She has brought such joy and happiness to our lives, I wouldn't swap it for anything in the world!

But I still really would like my brain back...

Drought

Dust in my throat, my eyes

Blue skies

Flies

Buzzing around my head

Dead

Eyes staring, pleading

Needing

Rain

Parched soil, cracked earth

Wasted girth

Birth

Of another scorching day

Away

Over the plain

Ever elusive

Rain

A brisk wind, a cloud up high

Trees sigh

My

Eyes turn to the West

Thunderous claim

A chance

Rain

Joy, fear, doubt, dread

Thoughts rush through my head

Lead

Drops on a tin roof

Heavy, promising

Fleeting

Disappointing

Drought

Nothing compares (Caution: Baby Story!)

Everyone says that you'll never be fully prepared for the enormity of having your first child. They fill your head with horror stories of how "you can just forget about your free time" and how "you'll never sleep again", or that you are "trapped for the next 20 years of your life"... You are constantly regaled with other peoples' stories about their Life After Children/Kids (which shall forthwith be appropriately referred to as LACK), that all seem to have a common patronising undertone and are inevitably negative.

What bollocks.

Having been inundated with such nerve wracking drivel, it should come as no surprise to you that I was super nervous, and quite frankly, terrified, of this new little person who was about to enter our perfect little lives. What had we let ourselves in for? Would our lives change so drastically that we would hate every minute of every day with our little bundle of poop and tantrums? Would we come to regret the day we ever decided to multiply, and wish that we could go back to the perfect serenity and freedom of just the two of us again?

Preparations were frenzied - we shopped for all the things that we were told we would need. Babies need special sterilisers, and special creams and shampoos, and everything you buy/get has to be washed dozens of times before baby comes so that baby doesn't develop a rash from new clothes etc...all very complicated and daunting this LACK story... And of course in the meantime, the scary stories and patronising comments kept coming - "you're doing cloth nappies? Good luck with that, you'll be back on disposables within a week!" and "nothing ever works out the way you planned, it wont be perfect no matter how prepared you are."

Wow.

My experience in those last few weeks before baby was due is that people are really intimidating towards new mothers. You'd think it would be enough to just smile and ask how you are doing, but the constant comments and "advice" were actually no help whatsoever when it came to putting us at ease about our new little person's imminent arrival. Luckily for us, we generally take most opinions with a pinch of salt, and although the nerves were there (who wouldn't be nervous about having a baby?!) Dale and I couldn't wait to start this new chapter in our lives.

Isla Rae Thomas made her arrival into this world a week early on the 17th September 2015. We had planned to try for a natural birth, but after several hours of "trying", and after thousands of litres of "happy gas" had been consumed, she was very unceremoniously removed via emergency c-section, a welcomed relief for mom who promptly fell asleep after baby left theatre with dad to go get all cleaned up! All the grand ideas of a gentle natural birth and skin-to-skin contact straight after birth (things that were very important before going into labour), completely disappeared into thin air as we marvelled at the tiny little creature in our arms, safe and sound and healthy. There is no feeling that can compare to that feeling you get when you hold you're own child for the first time. It really is profound. I never thought I could ever love something with my entire being the way that I love her. She is remarkable. Every moment that I am away from her I have the most ridiculous FOMO...I just don't want to miss a second with her.  

So...what about all those comments on how our "lives would change forever" and that we'd "never have time to do anything for ourselves anymore"? Yes - Our lives have changed forever. Is this a bad thing? Most definitely not. If anything, Isla has made us appreciate how lucky we are to have been able to live the lives that we did before she arrived. Yes - She has changed the way in which we have to do things - we have to actually make plans to go away as opposed to previously being able to lock up and go whenever we wanted to. But this means we've actually spent more time at home, working on home projects and nesting, which has been great fun. Yes - We are sleep deprived. But as she gets older, she is sleeping longer, and being awake at un-godly hours throughout the night enables you to see and hear things you never would have had you been sleeping - the howls of the jackals, the hooting of an owl, and watching the sun rise at 4am are all beautiful new experiences for someone who has never been a morning person. Add into the equation that you are cuddling the most gorgeous little human being in your arms, and what more could you actually want in life?! Yes - She demands a lot of time and attention. But every moment is fleeting, and she grows so quickly that you appreciate every moment you get with her. She'll never be that small again. It's so sad how quickly she is becoming a real little person - I want her to stay small forever!

Having said all that, what about the flip side? No - We do not feel trapped in any way. We love spending time with Isla, and if that means staying at home a lot more, we're happy for it. Also, when we need to do our own things (like Midmar Mile, Dusi, Sani2C), we tag-team it! That's why there are two parents... the same applies to comments on freedom and free time. No - She does not just poop, eat and sleep. Although she does all of these things for most of the time, she is also developing every day and it is fascinating to watch her turning into a real little person with thoughts and desires. But I will admit, those poop-splosions (AKA poo-namies) are quite impressive at times, and extremely entertaining! No - There are no regrets whatsoever. None. Nada. Niks. We're actually talking about #2 already...

So, all being said and done, this whole baby thing boils down to one major point for me:

Attitude.

Get your head in the right space before trying to make another human. As fun as it is getting that little person in their little incubator (AKA having sexy time...), they are going to demand a lot from you. And take what other people say to you with a pinch of salt - they may only be trying to help, so don't get nasty with them, but make up your own mind on how things are going to work out. You are, after all, in charge of your own happiness.

And right now, happiness is....