The Opposite of Sense

For the first time since our tree change, I'm mad. Very mad!

It started at our local farmers market this morning. I was chatting, as I usually do, to our local wine maker about the week, the weather, the wine... the usual. Time passed and he mentioned the simmering conflict between vigneron and local government. Now disputes between councils and local businesses are nothing new, except this one really does defy belief, and I'm afraid, only serves to illustrate a much bigger problem we have in Australia.

My journey of wine appreciation is long and still very much limited. Not long after moving to our cottage in the Capital Wine Region of Australia, we heard a series of rather loud bangs followed by what has been aptly described as a recording of a dying cockatoo issuing a distress cry. It was quite clearly a rather simple and effective way of keeping birds off the ripening fruit of the vines. No dead birds, no chemicals, no inhumane treatment; just a simple solution to a very real problem to produce some of the country's finest wines.

Enter the commuter. You know the one: they earn more money than most Australians (perhaps they're the ones lamenting the $150,000 threshold the feds want to impose on middle class welfare recipients); have a keen desire to live in the peace and tranquility of a rural setting, whilst not wanting to take pride in working the land they have bought with their hard (or not so hard) earned salaries. They don't mind commuting the hour or so it takes to get them to their overpaid job in the city, and all they ask in return is a little peace and quiet to enjoy the spoils of their "sacrifice" on a daily basis. But alas, those pesky auditory bird controls on a Saturday morning disturbed their sleep-in. What to do? Easy! Do what any rate-paying, tax-paying, voting citizen would do, and address your concerns to the local authorities. Then, without so much as a "what did you think you were getting into when you bought into a new rural estate next door to a vineyard?" the restrictions start on the use of audio bird controls.

Now I'm a great fan of the local drop, and everyone who I have introduced it to seems to find something to love in it too. Am I to pay a premium price for a wine which is now going to be in limited supply because the birds have taken their share first? I certainly hope not! Economics aside however, where are we going to produce our abundant agricultural bounty if any whinging commuter within cooee of a regular, "noisy" farm complains that the bird control measures are too loud, or the dogs bark too much when rounding up the sheep, or the tractor made too much noise when they slashed the paddocks, or, heaven forbid, the dust dirtied the washing on the line when they ploughed the southern paddock to plant a winter forage crop... then we won't get jack from anywhere near our maddeningly crowded cities.

It gets worse, because many an "informed" contributor to the recent carbon tax debate in this fair country has complained about the impact of the tax on increasing food prices. Food prices, like all things, are a function of supply and demand. Demand is not declining. Quite the contrary. However the supply is largely a function of the cost of inputs and the cost of transport. That being said, if our cities (which historically are located on some of the finest and most productive farming land, hence the longevity and growth of the settlement in the first place) are to expand into surrounding prime agricultural land thus forcing farmers ever further out into more marginal lands, surely this will have a doubly inflationary impact of both forcing up input costs in order to maintain output through the addition of chemical fertilisers for instance, PLUS increase the cost of transporting the finished product to markets in the expanding urban centres (let alone the additional cost of ever growing energy costs even without a carbon tax!). Which ever way you look at it, this scenario is the opposite of good sense!

Back to our local issues... I have it on good authority that local vignerons are collectively not going to stand for this. Stay tuned for updates as the battle unfolds, and please, support your local growers, your local, state and federal politicians/parties who have policies to preserve our food security and advocate urban consolidation, and if you must live on land, spare a thought for those working the land for our individual and collective benefit. Maybe those of us who live on small parcels of land could learn a thing or two from those who do so, and we could all grow some of our own produce and live healthier and more flavoursome lives.

earthkeeper.

Be yourself, and fit in.

It's starting to get cold. Not as cold as it is going to get, as I am constantly reminded by those who have lived through many a southern winter, but the cold that gives you a little slap on the face; the cold which finally make those autumn leaves all over the ground have some meaning; the cold that puts the little snow flake icon on the dashboard of our car.

I haven't written since we moved. No excuses, just so busy, and so tired that even when I have sat at the computer to write something, I can't think at all where to start. So for now I'm going to start with today, and then go forward and backward as the spirit moves...

A student told me today that he liked my style. Ordinarily this is no big deal, but this 18 year old is not the type that gives away complements AT ALL. A friend bumped into someone from town in Canberra the other day who mentioned that their child was in my class at school and thought I was a pretty good teacher... A colleague today asked me for advice for the first time. Probably one of the most challenging things about moving to a town where you know no one, what's more, a town of around 5000 people, is wondering whether you will fit in. Will this outfit make me look a little too urban or coastal? Should I wear a hat? How much should I share about the type of music I like? In the end, it comes down to being genuine; nothing pretentious, nothing other than who I am right now, and what path I am on. Authentic; and the rest will just follow.

Not sure what this has to do with earth keeping... just being a part of the solution I suppose.

Cheers

earthkeeper

Why would you leave The Coast?

My love for country living began as a child, growing up in the Blue Mountains. We had chooks (far too many for our own needs) a couple of jersey cows, goats at one time, a couple of sheep we inherited from Uncle Kevin in Glenn Innes, plenty of fruit trees and a vege patch. Sunday was work day on the small acreage my father decided to call Tallowood Farm, and barely a weekend went by when we didn't spend much of our time walking the paddocks to pull out fireweed or pattersons curse, sitting by the creek when it ran, chasing then catching and riding the sheep (easy to do when their fleece is long and you're a 10 year old boy), digging manure, or the garden or chasing a wayward sheep out of the living room where their favourite dish was mum's ornamental indoor plants. There was lots of hard work, but so much joy when looking back.

These memories are not all rose tinted as anyone growing up outside of suburbia would know, but they are ones that I would wish for my children. There were bushfires, droughts, floods (actually, I liked the floods as a kid - no school!), fetching wayward goats who seem to be able to escape through the smallest hole in a fence... But on balance, it is amazing how easy it is to remember the good times, and forget the tough times. This week our books are packed away ready for our move, so we have resorted to recounting stories from our childhood for our two boys at bed time. They sit transfixed by the tales of coming off horses or motorbikes, getting hit by cars or cows, chasing sheep out of the house, etc... and I cannot help but wonder what stories they will tell to their kids.

Fortunately I found in my wife a kindred spirit and we have been working, sometimes harder than others, at achieving the goal of a tree change for our own family. However it has not been the same dream all the time. We initially thought the Hunter Valley would be our ideal home; a brief thought for the Yarra Valley and Tasmania; the Southern Highlands when we felt rich enough, or a scrubby block waiting to be discovered in the Wollombi valley when we weren't. Sometimes we envisaged a grand residence, complete with artist studio and gallery space, while others we saw a fully self sufficient, environmentally sustainable cottage made out of mud brick, rammed earth or straw bales. The binding factors were the ones mentioned in my last post, and the memories that can only be created in rural settings.

Philosophically speaking, our world view sees the western culture as far too materialistic and consumer driven, and with all the symptoms of Oliver James' Affluenza surrounding us, we have a great yearning to leave the ease of that lifestyle for the closer connections with the earth, regardless of how difficult that may be at times. There seems to be a greater emphasis on community and simpler, slower living; sharing our excess in the good times, and supporting each other in the bad; the muse of poets, musicians and artists is often adversity where it inspires creativity, ingenuity and simpler pleasures; and finally there's the food... well, need we justify being closer to our food sources?

In short, and to answer the question, if the coast could provided all this, maybe we wouldn't leave... but what an exciting journey it will be stepping outside our comfort zone.

earthkeeper

2011 is the year...

...for turning dreams into reality.

The Dream:
To have a farm, in the traditional sense, with a variety of outputs from eggs, pork, beef, olives, and of course wine, in a rural community where my family and I could practice the principles we have always strived to live by. To slow life down and live rather than exist. Find a place to be... to be me; to be free; to be free from the overdeveloped consumer-driven society which is slowly killing us and our culture... but i digress.

Our requirements:
We want to be within 4 hours of the central coast (family and friends from the past 10 years are there), within 2 hours of a major city, within 3 hours of Sydney (for our Sydney fix) in a region capable to producing good wine and olive oil, and with land we can afford without selling our souls to the machine which is modern economic rationalism.

There were other ideals... green rolling hills (okay so that's Tasmania and the NSW south coast... not gonna happen!), a stony creek, a vibrant arts community, a degree of multiculturalism, and some foodies nearby...

Fast forward to November 2010, and after years of waiting, researching, looking, visiting different areas and almost applying for several jobs, the ideal opportunity arises. Just 11 months after deciding that we'll stay put in our suburban life until our 3 year old starts school, a spanner gets well and truly thrown into the works and the resultant roller coaster of the past 2 months has been a giddy thing (Mumford and sons gave me that last line as I write).

My next few posts will be dealing with the past 2 months as we pack up our suburban lives and prepare to move to the country for a new life, with new possibilities and new challenges, but with an expectation of a reality quite different from our present reality. Also, for anyone who has ever read one of my previous posts will attest, I also plan to reinvent my blog as a journal of discovery which is quite a different direction from the old righteous indignation at the state of the world.

I do hope that you will join me on my journey...

earthkeeper.