It’s been a busy week for us at the block. First of all we finished our front gate. We think it’s an appropriate entrance for our little hut one day.
Nigella is doing her best to look like a guard dog. She may look tough but we know it’s not convincing; she loves to meet new people, and seems quite offended when people don’t want to pat her or let her lick their ears!
Then it was the big hay cutting weekend. A few nervous days when we hope that it won’t rain, particularly on the baling day. Baling day is Rob’s favourite day of the year. We cart 150 bales of the hay. He likes packing the bales onto the ute & trailer, tying it down. Driving the ute. Stacking it neatly in the shed. Whereas it’s probably my least favourite day. It’s usually hot, lifting the bales above my head is hard work, not to mention the bits of hay that seem to find their way into all of your clothes, shoes, eyes (not great for someone who wears contact lenses) and lungs. We’re not usually done until 8.30pm. That’s when I feel happy; seeing the bales all stacked safely away. I guess Rob’s right, there is a certain honesty in the muscle soreness, the calluses on your hands from the bale twine, working for hours in the sun, the general griminess.
My favourite day of the year is the day after the hay is done. We can go down to the block and it’s all neat again, the cropped grass already bleached. Nigella knows she’s free to run around without me stressing about snakes, and Rob & I can enjoy a glass of home brew at the block.