Sunday, 26 June 2016

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.







Wednesday, 30 March 2016

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...