Cremona Hillside Farm

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Cremona Hillside Farm

Cremona chalet and school is a new dream fro an old retired farmer. A garden is being reestablished . He's a bit of an animal whisperer all round.
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The former school principal's house ( builtin 1916) and the one room school ( built in 1890) are being substantially renovated and restored. Alex and Kate Serrurier moved to this little 120 acre farm eight years ago after finding 15 acres was not quite enough to do all the things they wanted to do. Alex has always loved goats and loves breeding and showing . Kate is a passionate forager and experi

menter who makes lots of things herself and readily uses anything no one else wants - excess fruit or vegetables, old clothes, furniture, bits of wood or metal become reinvented . Life on the farm is like a dream come true. A few interruptions with ageing, surgery, cancer and a couple of fires have meant slow progress, but it seems to be coming together now ....

25/07/2024

FFFF #289 2024
“Fresh flowers”
This week a friend brought me some daphne from her garden. A big bunch which looks stunning in a pink vase on a pink tablecloth and perfumes the room. It was a beautiful gift.
Margaret Ollie (one of my favourite painters of interiors) apparently said that if your house was messy and dusty and few things were out of place, then the simple decorating solution was to just put vases of flowers everywhere. I’m with her on that one. But you DON”T NEED TO GO OUT AND BUY FLOWERS!!!!! I am sorry if florists and flower growers are struggling and I will support them when I can, but in reality, in every season one can FORAGE beautiful floral arrangements – grasses, berries, leaves, lichen covered branches, smooth twigs, wild South African Ixias and Sparaxis and Freesias in the bush…
Flowers make a house look as if someone cares about it. And you know how much I loathe minimalist grey show off neat houses. No toys, no stickers on the fridge, no musical instruments lying waiting to be played, no pots on the stove, no soul. Poor children….
Today I am FOSSICKING big branches of hawthorn berries to decorate the hall. The red is exquisite.
Of course I regard myself as a very lucky person, and my luck continued this week when my daughter came to help remove (nearly) the last of stuff from the farm. It’s taken far too long and the new owners have been more than patient. In the church I discovered a small stained glass window which Alex had been carting round for over forty years. It is going into the new enclosed back part of the verandah because one of the chaps on the job has just finished a course in leadlight making and repair (see how lucky I am?). Sometimes I think things are lost and then they are found! Amazing grace.
The miracle of the week was my neighbour from the old farm buying me a “lamb bar” to make feeding all the little ones easier. What a difference it has made. No more sheep jumping on my lap to grab bottles. Fewer bruises... and he also bought a bag of lamb pellets which they are trying. So far thirteen healthy and hilarious little survivors.
The bargain tip of right now is that Aldi sells lamb mince (speaking of lambs). Because I have less than the ideal number of teeth, this is extremely appealing. Patties, Middle Eastern cumin flavoured rice dishes, moussaka … Being a FRUGAVORE I bought several packets to store in the freezer for ron.
On the mini FARMING side of things, a very versatile fellow came and trimmed my goat’s hooves ( got too long and wet weather makes their feet sore), vaccinated and drenched sheep and goats. Arthritic fingers and hoof trimming are a combination designed to end in bloody disaster. In the process of us getting sheep into shed we discovered that a neighbour’s chook had been laying eggs in the sheep shed hay. Bonus…
One day when I was in Beaufort (I go to the chemist there now) I witnessed an event which touched my soul. A rough looking character in a beanie (cold day) was walking his staffy/pit bull type dog on a lead down the street. The dog was straining and they turned into a sort of lane off the main street where the dog immediately jumped up on a seat there. His master took off the lead, gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered something, then said: “Off you go boy”. Seeing a much loved companion dog gladdens my heart. It gives me great joy to see that bond. There are too many lonely dogs out there…..
I will briefly boast about Op Shop bargains- a Mondrian inspired Country Road pure merino lamb’s wool jumper ( $1.00), a linen skirt , shirt and William Morris Scarf ( $ 5.00 the lot). I have beautiful clothes, I am just lousy at combining them. I don’t think it is something into which I put enough effort. Whether style evades me or I am lazy I am unsure. Being modish/ stylish was something I did in the past. White vinyl boots, an uncut purple velour zip- up hot pant suit with white ribbed skivvy underneath. I wore a switch to make my beehive look bigger and heavy real fur false eyelashes. Pale lipstick. Inner channelling of Diana Rigg. Bit over the top. Later – hippy phase – was a penchant for silk nighties worn with a leather jacket. Boho p**n. Again, far too much. Went all Western District for a while – floral linen shirts, tweed, tartan skirts worn with RM boots. I am too short for that to work. Does style matter? Not sure. Art does, and style is a form of art. But I just feel safe and warm and comfortable and not at all vulnerable in my farm gear.
(My favourite song in 1968 of the hotpants before I really discovered feminism)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTdNBXOdBDE&ab_channel=ronbryant
I like not having a telly which works. I decided to live stream the ABC News the other night, but so felt sick that it was an all American fest of discontent and drama and turned it off. Why? You can just ignore what is happening in the USA. We can’t do a bloody thing about it. People (individually and en masse) make ridiculous decisions. Fact. Just do what you can here in Australia in the real world by FRUGAVORING ( that is not wasting anything ) FOSSICKING ( for stuff you need ) FORAGING ( for wild foods and ideas and discarded goodies ) and FARMING in whatever small way you can to help the earth, feed yourself and others and connect with community.
And don’t forget the flowers. Joy to the home. \
And listen to this brilliant song written by a primary school teacher. She would be an asset in any classroom with such a philosophy.
https://www.facebook.com/reel/774116247946362

22/07/2024

Philosophy of the Week #30 2024
"The world's big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.”
John Muir

“What people say to grievers”
My daughter bought me a book. Written by a friend of hers. I already have lent it to several people. Apparently it was put together by a friend of hers. It is at once shocking, disturbing and in some cases laughable. The book is a collection of true Australian things people have said to those in grief (recent bereavement).
I guess the aim of the book was to expose our ignorance and inability to deal meaningfully and compassionately with death in our contemporary community. It’s not about elaborate and twee and over manufactured ceremonies for which some have a very neurotic fondness- it’s about the callous comments, the blatant misunderstanding of appropriateness, the blind ignorance or lack of thoughtfulness in what people say to those who are bereaved..
For instance, having a husband die is NOT like going through a divorce. The death of a child is NOT something planned by God. Explaining that the dead person is in a “better place” is NOT helpful. The sudden death of a spouse does NOT happen” for a reason”. An aged parent dying CANNOT be compared to the death of a young person.
Anyone who has been bereaved will notice that there are some people who say nothing. They have no idea what to say (try Googling it, you Google everything else and every other protocol) or they adopt some cute over simplified and clichéd religious response they think should be comforting (Alex, for instance, did not want to meet Jesus, some folk just find harp music irritating) or their own anxiety makes them tell you to “get over it and move on”.
That’s why we widows stick together a bit- we actually know what to say to each other. Real things like “I don’t like living by myself, but there is not much choice at the moment” or “of course he wasn’t a perfect husband, but he was a hell of a lot better than most”
I highly recommend the book as extremely honest and offering very sound and sensible advice.
Oh and if anyone says to me when I explain that my husband is dead “Sorry for your loss” I just want to scream. “I see” would be fine.
“After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn…
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure…
That you really are strong
And you really do have worth…
And you learn and learn…
With every good-bye you learn.”
Veronica A. Shoffstall - You Learn.

19/07/2024

FFFF #288 2024
“The relevant earworm”
Growing, ripening, aging, dying — the passing of time is predestined, inevitable.
There is only one solution if old age is not to be an absurd parody of our former life, and that is to go on pursuing ends that give our existence a meaning — devotion to individuals, to groups or to causes, social, political, intellectual or creative work. In old age we should wish still to have passions strong enough to prevent us turning in on ourselves.
One’s life has value so long as one attributes value to the life of others, by means of love, friendship, indignation, compassion. ~Simone de Beauvoir

It’s been bloody cold this week and I have had a persistent earworm. This song with hilarious words which was sung by Pete Seeger and the Weavers. That, and “Hallelujah I’m a bum” were two of my father’s favourite songs (he was a nerd, he also liked hymns).
None https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&q=The+Frozen+LOgger =ive&vld=cid:da48404b,vid:-gXr31zLBxM,st:0
So lambing in this sort of weather (chill factor, rain, wind) is not good for the lambing ewes, their progeny or the careful farmers who check on stock at birthing times. My neighbour at the old farm always gave me his orphaned lambs to rear when his mother (now 95) retired from doing so, and I continue to have that arrangement. The little ones stay inside in the warm near the AGA till they are ready to be outside with the others- in a paddock with a snug hay-lined three-sided shed which even has a partial wall to the east. Then they huddle together in a big cuddled heap and rush to me with the basket full of bottles three or four times a day – depending on their age. I wear a beanie (wool) and two jumpers (wool) and an overcoat (wool) and they wear their own woolly jackets. It’s not cute rearing lambs- but rewarding if they survive and thrive.
We don’t have control over weather, but we do have control over keeping ourselves warm without resorting to puffer jackets full of Dacron or plucked feathers. I would look ridiculous in a puffer jacket- like an inflated tyre on steroids. I just look like an old farmer covered in muck at this time of year. And I have discovered that red dirt is remarkably sticky.
It has been a week of full on excitement. A local who has an expensive lamb scanner offered to come and check whether my does were pregnant. The long beep appears to say yes, but their hairiness might give a misread. Goats are hairier than sheep. I am waiting now and giving them extra treats. Bananas are thankfully quite cheap, because those are top favourites. They also relish the zucchini which was in a throw out bin and I chopped into appealing pieces. Their shed faces East as well, so plenty of shelter from the weather threats.
A dear young friend who used to be a circus performer suggested that his stairway ladder might aide in hanging pictures up the stairs. It now looks wonderful!! Like a proper art gallery. Thank you James. I reserved the etchings for this space, so can now I can genuinely ask if you would like to see my etchings (no weird stuff mind you…). On the same day a woman who loves cleaning and her seven foot tall husband arrived. They took care of architraves, walls and skirtings which needed a good scrub to remove cigarette smoke. Now to hang more paintings up high.
My dear friend Barbara visited for a few days and brought beautiful food (and wine). WE talked art and politics and philosophy and laughed. This is the spice of life!!
Then the linden trees I ordered arrived. Three to shed their limelight (language joke) over the outdoor kitchen area. I may need to practise my yodelling there. https://www.facebook.com/reel/416856314388246.
(I saw the Topp twins live and laughed my heart out)
Or perhaps this- which is the kind of Flamenco I could actually perform.
https://www.facebook.com/100000477657445/videos/3351375738221648
or this https://www.facebook.com/reel/1641957383255201
Isn’t Flamenco so honest and sensual and exciting?
I have secretly been buying things on Temu- which shocks and thrills me at the same time. It’s all a bit flimsy and tacky, but who could resist a William Morris dish drying mat? Or some “Nordic” socks at $2.00 a pair? Or some tin signs which say “fresh eggs “and “organic honey” and “pesticide free vegetables”?
You see, my latest fantasy (I have lots) is to open a very small “shop” called “The School Tuckshop” which sells my eggs and honey and veg and some preserves. I also (mistakenly?) purchased a sign which says “Apothecary”, so I will probably have to manufacture more soap, perfume, deodorant and secret tinctures. In my head this welcoming mini grocery looks like the tiny weatherboard tuckshop at my own school -which in winter smelt deliciously of pies and in summer sold lemon cordial and memorably fresh salad rolls. Just need the building now…
Speaking of building, I am “extending” the chalet by enclosing a windswept verandah which receives icy winds from the south, hideous westerlies and presumably hot blustering northerlies in the warmer months. I will finally be able to use a huge stained glass window I have been carting around for a few years. A nice chap who lives nearby is restoring the window and manufacturing a Cremona sign with antlers to go with the Swiss theme. Then the laundry and second bathroom will be moved onto the verandah so that the internal laundry will be a pantry off the kitchen.
Cheap renos have been one thing I have learnt about. There must NEVER EVER be a toilet off a room where one eats. Laundries ought to be outside and double as mudrooms. Kitchens are the most important room in the house and I like them expansive and multiple. Three might be enough. One in the school, one in the chalet and one outside. Recently a small visitor was disturbed that there was no longer a shelf of toys in the kitchen the way there was at the farm. I will remedy that in the school when it is tidied up.
My beautiful carpet/rug I commissioned from artist extraordinaire Jackie Gorring has arrived. Jackie is a champion of using recycled materials, is amazingly creative, has a sense of colour and pattern which I envy and just knows about beauty. Here is the rug, on the floor, made of Alex’ old jumpers interspersed with my cardigans and colourful woollies. I just LOVE it and will treasure it forever. I have a hat made from Alex’ old linen shirt by a neighbour and another friend is making a quilt. Soon I will wear, lie on and sleep under Alex’ relics. Bit odd? Just honouring a wonderful man who had quite specific taste in clothing…
Given that it is mid-winter here and this place is so much more exposed than where I lived eight weeks ago, I am so happy to have an electric AGA for me and the lambs and for drying clothes and many lamb rubbing towels. I’m much sookier than the frozen logger, though I always remove and squeeze tea bags with my hands…

16/07/2024

Philosophy of the Week #29 2024
"It's a good idea to sort through your beliefs now and then and throw out the ones that don't serve you."
- Annie Kagan,
The Afterlife of Billy Fingers

“Them’s Fighting Words”
Words of course are powerful and can soothe or incite harm/anger. So this week I have been thinking about words which annoy me.
Not old fashioned sayings like “ ‘ave a go ya mug” but far more incisive.
I admit to using the C bomb in the paddock on occasion when frustration gets the better of me. And I am always ashamed. The name for women’s genitalia should never be used as a form of denigration. If you want to have a go at someone, have a go at their beliefs/ ignorance/ false assumptions/behaviours /language / politics/bad taste/ethics…. But not their nether regions.
I have now decided that the word I most dislike is the English word is the word “should” when used about oneself or others. Let me give some examples:
( I say these things to myself )
• Kate, you should be more organised.
• Get a grip Kate, you should just get up earlier
• You should lose weight Kate
I could go on, but you get my drift. Not helpful stuff. I’m actually fully capable of sorting all these issues – if they indeed are important or need to be sorted.
However (perhaps well meaning???) types say these things to me
You should
• get rid of more stuff
• downsize
• have a holiday
• buy yourself some new clothes
• have your teeth/eyes/ nose/ life fixed
• have fewer animals
• drink less
• join a gym
Well thank you for your unsolicited advice which implies (in order) that you are totally organised , have a perfect lifestyle, go on cruises ( YUK ! YUK ! YUKKETY YUK!!) are more fashionable and stylish than I am , visibly more physically/ aesthetically attractive and healthier than I will ever be. . And bully for you. But “should” is a very ugly word.
I am actually a very happy person and you should keep your opinions to yourself. And take a flying…

12/07/2024

FFFF #287 2024
“Joy”
I have been astounded to learn recently that there are some people who do not experience joy. This may be chemical (I’m clearly not a psychiatrist) or to do with longterm stress and hypervigilance (not a psychologist either), but as an amateur philosopher with some academic background in aesthetics, I have reason to believe that finding joy is attitudinal. You don’t need a million memes with butterflies and sunrises to encourage a joyful attitude. You just need a mindset. A childlike one which wonders at weather or likes jumping in puddles or sitting near a bonfire. A curious mind which is always seeking to learn and understand more. A sense that having enough is an absolute privilege.
This week I had several what I term joyous events. Firstly I had an appointment about my eyes. The macular issue in my left eye has not progressed and I have no cataracts. I have chosen ridiculously over- the –top glasses with gold bits to celebrate such news. Further to all this, my short sightedness as decreased (a miraculous thing occurring in dotage, which is good) and the oculist said that my eyes were “very good for my age”. I am never sure if this is a compliment or not.
A few days ago a very nice electrician chap moved the ugly air conditioning unit off the verandah and around the corner of the house where it is less obtrusive. There is now in situ a table and chairs for having drinks on the verandah or a morning coffee to watch the sunrise. My grandchildren amused me again for the whole of one day and had a friend to visit. The three of them played non-stop and there were no sulkings. We went pelican hunting because there are some on Lake Learmonth at the moment. We only saw one- but it was beautiful and elegant and huge. Pelicans are my totem. The kids were also keen to find a pig which is roaming free, but we didn’t sight that creature.
In other joyful news my chooks are laying. I lined their sheds with straw to encourage this. Isa Browns, Dorkings and Scots Greys first off the rank. If you want fertile eggs in spring let me know!! I have a few incubators, but will try for natural hatchings if they sit. Alex (as always? ) was right. Chooks start laying almost immediately after Winter Solstice.
The lambs my neighbour brings me have had about a 90% survival rate. Some have succumbed to pneumonia, a couple have had gut infections and one I suspect had tetanus. The last one was the noisiest lamb I have ever come across…Lambs are forever optimistic and think sunset is the best time to frolic. I love watching them.
My dear friend has grown me three different varieties of Rosemary for hedging- there is Creswick Neighbourhood House, Gallipoli and a brilliant unnamed blue. I have planted them as borders. I use herbs nearly every day, and rosemary is essential for bread making, lamb roasting and flavouring stews. Oregano is marvellous with beans, on pizzas and meat sauces. Thyme is my favourite – with everything and especially grilled cheese. Cuttings of salvias are doing well now and my garlic chives are very happy. Herbs are one of the most rewarding plants to grow and I plan to have a LOT of them!!
I have been Op Shop FOSSICKING a few times on boring trips to town. An exquisitely soft pure lambswool jumper, a gold key ring (to match the glasses), very fashionable Country Road track suit pants, a hand knitted wool rainbow scarf and some grandchild contingency wear. Grandchildren can get very very dirty, sometimes wet, covered in mud, have blood noses and drop food on themselves. I do this on occasions too, but my entire wardrobe lives here.
https://www.facebook.com/reel/1840697333107897 ( a great joke about aging )

The rain was welcome (further joy) because on the sunny day I planted some old seeds which were labelled “ autumn” . I think the weather is autumn enough for them to be tricked into flourishing. Poppies, calendula, Star of the Veldt, clarkia, forget me nots, corn flower… just the beginning of some colour in this garden. Promisingly the citrus have survived a huge number of frosts and the apples are budding up well. The beautiful red limbed linden also has shoots.
I have been thinking about joy because I have been watching children play. I have an occasional cleaning job where there are also school holidaying children who insisted that I pretended to be a ghost whilst I cleaned the kitchen. This involved my saying “ WHOO” menacingly. Much hilarity. My little grandies can make fun playing with lambs or unpacking the dressups. Interestingly, when I asked the older one where the little one was he replied “Out on the oval somewhere”. Apparently the spirit of the school (which closed in 1974) is still alive and well, though a local farmer who went to the school drove past and shouted to me” I see you are putting in an orchard on our footy oval”. Joy is infectious, and can be caught through minimal exposure. If you don’t currently have available children, try watching them in a shopping mall or an ABC Program I have just discovered called “Little Lunch”. Wonderful values. Great humour. Or get a pet. Furry joy.

09/07/2024

Philosophy of the week # 27 2024.
“Life as competition”
“The doors to the world of the wild Self are few but precious. If you have a deep scar, that is a door, if you have an old, old story, that is a door. If you love the sky and the water so much you almost cannot bear it, which is a door. If you yearn for a deeper life, a full life, a sane life, that is a door.”
― Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves

I am sometimes (briefly) distressed by the competitiveness of some people I vaguely know or see only on TV/ social media/read about in the news. This competitiveness is reinforced and marketed by Real Estate agents (what is even remotely “real” about them?? ) who encourage hugeness in a house as desirable and in fact necessary. You simply have to get the children out of the way- to the home theatre/games room/ rumpus where they rump and make noise. You then go into your ‘parent’s retreat’ where you can relax with a drink or lie luxuriating in a spa. Of course “entertainment’ is important, so a swim spa or pool is necessary. I could go on, but this rampant competitive consumerism is in my opinion damaging children. These poor little mites are screen addicts isolated from the family dinner table and uptake of Vitamin D.
Of course b**b enhancing, slimming, fitness promoting AI imaging of the “perfect body” is an industry in its own right. Fake tan, eyebrows, body sculpting and hair extending products fill shelves of chemist ware houses.
The competition to be “successful” at work encourages toadying and sycophantic boss pleasing behaviours.
Competing against each other on the home front, or as sexualised and stylised women (or men) and forever “winning” in the workplace – well they are stressful. No wonder people have to keep down two jobs. It all costs a lot.
When I am worried about these odd and unhelpful behaviours, I go into the garden. Walk in the bush. Retreat into a book. .
Because seeing all this rushing towards idealised perfectionism makes me sad.
I personally have enough. (hey you who give unsolicited advice about my stuff- I have enough happiness, friends, joy,…. The stuff is just what I collect and assemble and play with!!).
The doors which have opened for me and provided me with energy, great insight and a sense of a full life have been these
• Moving to the country
• Being part of a community
• Having children and young folk around me
• Sorting a life after earlyish widowhood.
• Running a farm on my own
• Meeting like-minded types.
.
I am not now competing in any way to open more doors or make them wider. The sane peaceful life is enough.

05/07/2024

FFFF # 286 2024
“You may say that I’m a dreamer”
https://gathervictoria.com/2017/11/14/rewilding-eco-feminism-the-reclaimation-of-magic/
(A website I have just discovered which inspiring a whole host of FORAGING plans)
Maybe because I have more (sort of) time on my hands now with less land and fewer animals to look after, I have more time to think. This is a good thinking place here at the chalet and school. The skies are wide, the weather is obvious from all directions, the mountains are protective, and it is peaceful. My mother used to call me “Dreamy Dora” (this was a put down, not a term of affection) which behaviour -in retrospect- was an escape from her; but none the less I spent a great deal of my childhood ( and now adulthood) imagining how things could be better/ happier/ kinder/ simpler in this world. This imagining has been the cause of denigration in the workplace, eyebrow raising at meetings, criticism in the community and most surprisingly mockery in my own home.
It is, apparently, naïve to believe that people can collaborate, that meetings should have purposes and outcomes which are real, that communities should be inclusive, that power is best distributed and home remains an emotionally safe place.
Was John Lennon naïve? I would have called him visionary. Donald Trump is naïve.
Over the rainbow in Addington, dreams really do come true. For instance, I couldn’t wait to find my dream man with a Landcruiser, so I bought one for myself.
Because it is school holidays, I have been entertained by the youngest grandchildren. Apart from having spells cast on me ( usual) which now involve involuntarily eating slugs, I have been able to participate in a favourite game called “ Grandma’s Undies” I love it. Someone is “he” (and is called “Grandma”). Others in the group have to make up a question to which Grandma must reply “Grandma’s Undies” without laughing. Once “Grandma” laughs the person posing the question becomes the Grandma. Sort of like Cards Against Humanity in the playground. The grottier the better. Like “What did you use to wash your face this morning? “or “ What is that interesting hat you are wearing?”. Great game. Harmless.
After teaching me the game, these two innovators did heaps of jobs moving feedbags, bringing in wood, bottle feeding six lambs I am rearing from a neighbouring, shifting stuff. Then they spent hours playing with the orphaned lambs. I heard a plaintive singing of “Hallelujah” from the pen and was informed that they were lulling the lambs to sleep. Later I discovered I had a drum set (from the tip?? ) which had been in a container. Erected in the paddock, this did not send the lambs to sleep. Fortunately neighbours are a fair way away and did not seem too alarmed by crashing cymbals and an insistent thumping bass on a windless sunny winter afternoon. I had no drumsticks (other container?), but there is plenty of odd shaped kindling here. No screens, an occasional snack. Toasties for lunch. Wonderful children.
https://www.facebook.com/reel/971413577873429 (if your children are bored in the school holidays, this is cheap entertainment)
I had a surprise visit from a Facebook friend who has become a real and very valued personal friend. She brought me a heap of plants for this new garden, including Lions Ears, Pepino, Comfrey and a Native Flax. I’m on a survival mission with the Lions Ears. Dell also dumpster dives and supplied me with original glazed donuts which I consumed for dinner. Because I can…

Yet another friend who is a tip scrounger extraordinaire had a box of “school” stuff saved for me. You will be able to experience Social Studies from 1960s and practise calligraphy when the “school” finally opens (need to put all the books away first).
Meanwhile here in this little part of the world on this tiny farm, there has been no rain. Every morning is a stunning sunrise, a paddock covered in frost, a low fog and glorious sunny days. I believe unseasonable weather is due to climate change, but being an unapologetic romantic I am enjoying this winter magic.
And here is a very poignant poem to make you both laugh and question how you are being conned.
https://www.facebook.com/reel/363067362938826 ( brands these days)

28/06/2024

FFFF # 285 2024
https://www.facebook.com/reel/983625743439582 (Alice in Wonderland)
‘Women have another option. They can aspire to be wise, not merely nice; to be competent, not merely helpful; to be strong, not merely graceful; to be ambitious for themselves, not merely for themselves in relation to men and children. They can let themselves age naturally and without embarrassment, actively protesting and disobeying the conventions that stem from this society’s double standard about aging. Instead of being girls, girls as long as possible, who then age humiliatingly into middle-aged women, they can become women much earlier – and remain active adults, enjoying the long, erotic career of which women are capable, far longer. Women should allow their faces to show the lives they have lived. Women should tell the truth.’
Susan Sontag - The Double Standard of Aging (1972)

“Alice in Wonderland and other surprises”.
Unfortunately I am still moving stuff from the farm, and discovered in a container near the goat shed that Alex had stored a whole heap of boxes which we had carted over from Haddon. These boxes were mostly labelled “ Children” and did not in fact contain children but the contents of a” shop” I had planned to open in a converted garage. I remembered about half of the stuff ( I didn’t pack any of it) l but there were some nice and odd surprises. I think I have better taste now than I did in the early 2000s. At that time I had a penchant for ridiculously humourous china- a tea pot for instance which is a smiling apple. Off to (or back to) the Op Shop it went.
The greatest excitement for the week was the installation of the 3 oven electric AGA. John Jenkin- the famous AGA man- who had originally installed the stove (which he insists is called a “cooker”) near Woodend, went and picked it up for me accompanied by his son who is now in business with him. They brought it over here and put it in the chalet kitchen. A touch of the British in the Swiss décor. I think she is beautiful and have named her Gretel. Should keep the kitchen warm and manufacture many preserves and roasts and biscuits. I’ll be back into all that by next winter.
John and James are also restoring the wood fired four oven Rayburn to put in the school – there may be some community workshops there next year too! She (Raelene) will be Post Office Red and make the school a joyous warm and happy place. Which is the way schools should be…
Further excitement on this mini FARM involved the birth of three healthy Finn lambs. Why sheep insist on lambing when the rain starts remains a mystery to me. Perhaps Finn like to make sure their lambs are accustomed to crappy weather. I have several friends who are now breeding the very beautiful Swiss Valais sheep. They are still very expensive (genetics only arrived in Australia several years ago), so I may have to wait till they are more affordable to create the total Swiss experience. Nevertheless the Finn lambs are small, hairy, cute- faced and extremely feisty. Finns have litters (sometimes six) rather than singles or twins, and I await the next birth(s).
During Op Shop FORAGING I met an old friend. Just as I was considering buying some trousers labelled size10 which looked as if they might fit me. My kind friend assured me they would and I commented that I would love to be a size 10 (again). She said it was called “Aspirational shopping” and I have now adopted this term which could apply to anything. For years I have bought “good labels” second-hand , so that when I am posh and rich and can afford them new I can say ( rather offhandedly) : “ I’ve always worn Lauren …/other known French label”. I once bought a small wooden boat believing it was a step in the direction of owning an ocean going yacht, and a large stained glass window for a bathroom overlooking a lake. The boat eventually sank in the dam and I have brought the window here to the chalet to be installed on the wall of a verandah which is too windy. Aspirations….
I FOSSICKED on MARKETPLACE and bought some more gates (I do have a plan). Beautiful wrought iron driveway gates with matching handgate. Cheap IMHO. But the buying adventure also had me meeting a stunning pet macaw who talked and did tricks and was free to go wherever he wanted. Quite a treat. Amazing colours.
In further wonderland experiences after the Macaw, I discovered an Alice jigsaw puzzle in a shed FOSSICK, an exquisite woven pink mohair poncho in my wardrobe, how much more perlite to use as insulation in the stove, that my hops have sprouted and that I can fix leadlight windows with Gorilla Glue.
Aging is a wonderland in itself where things/ people that really matter are fun and the stuff which is unimportant disappears and those who throw tantrums /whinge keep to themselves in the end. I have just come back from lunching with a very lively ninety two year old woman who claimed (quite seriously) that the secret to her continued good health was Sav Blanc. She assured me that red wine had more antioxidants and I should stick to that. She said this quaffing a second glass of champagne and claiming that midday drinking was not her usual style.
https://www.facebook.com/reel/1763449884185735 101 year old painter

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Our Story

Alex and Kate Serrurier moved to this little 120 acre farm ten years ago after finding 15 acres was not quite enough to do all the things they wanted to do. Alex has always loved goats and loves breeding and showing . He's a bit of an animal whisperer all round. Kate is a passionate forager and experimenter who makes lots of things herself and readily uses anything no one else wants - excess fruit or vegetables, old clothes, furniture, bits of wood or metal become reinvented . Life on the farm is like a dream come true. A few interruptions with ageing, surgery, cancer and a couple of fires have meant slow progress, but it seems to be coming together now ....