Diary of a (Sodden) Farmer

It’s the first day of daylight saving time and there was torrential rain all night. I got up at 7.30 (that’s 6.30 real time) to give the horses some hay. They looked miserable. The bottom paddock sported a puddle several feet across. I worried for Doug, Juan and Juanita, I do hope they haven’t drowned in their beds.

A quick check on the stream reassured me that it isn’t even halfway up the banks. Plenty of fast rushing water though. It would be a great day to kayak, most of the rocks that usually stop our progress have been covered over.

The stream once the sun came out

Fed chickens. A few small puddles in the chicken run and an overfull water tank. The white chicken with the broken leg (that’s a story for another day) is moving around and the leg looks to be weight-bearing now after nearly 3 weeks. I guess my amateur splinting treatment worked.

Thought I should check on the state of the lane. Halfway down the driveway I see a huge pile of debris. From that point on a lot of water is streaming along the drive. It is forming a large pool on the land next door, and I can see the lane itself will be next for the overflow. A vague memory returns of a conversation at the street party last summer about the lane flooding ‘when the [unknown farming term] at your place gets blocked’. Oh. This will be the blocked [unknown farming term] then.

Go and find the rake and spend best part of an hour clearing the [unknown farming term]. At least I assume that’s what I’m clearing. It’s some sort of ditch like structure anyway. The debris is wet and heavy and made up of pine needles, leaves, twigs and some quite large branches. By the time I’m finished I’m soaked to the skin with rain and sweat.

It was too wet, and I was too busy to take photos while raking, but here’s the evidence.

Back into the house, leaving most of my clothes at the back door (advantages of having only far-away neighbours). The young dog has been out and about with me, but I have to wake the old dog to give her breakfast. After a cup of tea and some AntiGene granola I feel quite human again. It’s 8am (real time) and it’s stopped raining. As I type this at 8.45 (real time) I’m looking out of the window onto blue skies and brilliant sunshine. The Forbearing Husband returns today from a conference in the Big Smoke. Things are looking up!

The ponies look a lot happier now the rain has stopped.

Off to change: into dry clothes, and onto daylight saving time. Here’s Hone Tuwhare to keep you company.

Rain

Rain
I can hear you
making small holes
in the silence
rain

If I were deaf
the pores of my skin
would open to you
and shut

And I
should know you
by the lick of you
if I were blind

the something
special smell of you
when the sun cakes
the ground

the steady
drum-roll sound
you make
when the wind drops

But if I
should not hear
smell or feel or see
you

you would still
define me
disperse me
wash over me
rain

— Hone Tuwhare