Winter farm-sitting day 4: Sunday on a farm
Rutherglen Travel Blog› entry 7 of 14 › view all entries
One of the things I found myself doing at the farm more was listen to the radio. I don't even have a radio back in Melbourne, and I rarely watch tv. But I suppose, in the city it's easy to tell what's going on around you. In the country, the only way you'd really be able to tell is through the radio.
On this Sunday morning I was listening to Macca as I sat in the house having my breakfast. I realised that in the country, a Sunday barely feels like a Sunday, despite hearing Macca on the radio (a Sunday thing). I still had to feed the chooks, the horse, and help Ali with the fish, and pick up the fruits.
The mandarines were ripe and ready for picking. We had to take all the mandarines (even the yucky ones) off the floor because all of Rutherglen has been infested with fruit fly. So that means we can't leave mandarines in the ground to spread the fruit fly. It's been sad to see that recently, much of the once chock-a-block orchard has been cleared, and only a few lonely trees stand there now.
Today, Ali and I went for a horse ride again. Yesterday, Ali fell off Yarraman when he went over a jump. The saddle slipped around; so it wasn't Yarraman's fault. He was actually relatively cool about it (as far as Yarraman goes about being 'cool' with things). Today, however, when I trotted ahead of Ali and Yarraman to open a gate, Yarraman had a panick attack and started cantering to catch up. Ali hadn't told Yarraman to canter, so he tried to make Yarraman stop. They went around in circles, and the dogs went around in circles around them, there was lots of yelling going on and eventually Ali was flung onto the ground. Yarraman's long reins wavered dangerously around his fetlocks; and with ears back and his eyes wide with terror, he bolted towards me and Dobson. He was still in a full canter when he was a mere three metres away from us, and instead of slowing down to a trot, he put his bum to the ground and skidded the last few metres. Then he stood, bewildered and blinking at me and Dobson. I slid off Dobson and took Yarraman's reins. Ali was still lying on the floor. He was all right, except that he was thoroughly sick of Yarraman. In Ali's defense, Yarraman doesn't respond well to his reins being pulled, since his regular owner rarely uses reins at all. It's a good system, because it means that the horse doesn't get yanked around the mouth much, but it was just a matter of getting used to the way of riding, and figuring out what did make him stop. We got back on the horses and walked them home.