Every time it Rains I feel like a Bath

So, when it looks like rain, it is an exciting event. Having heard when we moved here, that the drought had lasted for 10 years, we felt wary about using water.
We needn't had worried, with 4 water tanks and 3 months of almost every day rain, we have so much it just comes right out of the tanks again. But water saving is now such an ingrown habit that every time it rains, I assess whether or not enough has fallen so I can have a bath.
The process starts by looking over the balcony to the gutters, where they feed into the water tank. Then, at the tank over flow. I feel like if I can get the bath going, I can trap some of the water for good use before it spills out over into the drainage ditch and is wasted on growing some more uneaten grass.
The length of the rain shower determines how many times I can fill up the hot water before getting out.
Truly it is a luxurious occupation. Until you have lived off tank water, and knocked on the side of the tank every week to feel the level, you have never appreciated the rain. It dictates how deep the washing up water is, whether you can afford to wash the years of ingrown dirt off the walls, whether you can even have a little bath in the ducky pool.
Watching the rain pour into the tank is like a winemaker watching the free run juice fall into the stainless steel tray on the underside of the press. You know it makes the best baths.

Ye Olde Back Yard Public Toilet - Dont you have one?

This is our Ye Olde Public Backyard Toilet, complete with handy frog infested shower. Not everyone is lucky enough to possess such a wonderful useless building in their backyard. A relic left over from when our home was a homestead. For us, the enclosing of the backyard with Ye Old New Fabulous Fence to keep out the moo cows so we could hang the washing out, meant that the toilets were enclosed and became the focal (fecal?) point of our lovely backyard. Having been told by The Farmer that our toilets harbour frog squatters, we cleaned up the loos with half a bottle of exit mold and the hose, then left the doors open to let in the sunlight. (Apparently froggies are second cousins to Dracula and dont like sunlight).
Now, the loos are home to our growing rubbish pile, as well as my ducky wading pool that only I have ever been in (the ducks are abit snobby about their wading preferences). Hopefully one day we will actually have people around (maybe camping) to enjoy the you beaut convenient backyard loos.
Failing that, we must be the only people in Grandchester to have more toilets than we have bedrooms. If anyone comes to visit I will feel compelled to offer them their choice of the M or F or indoor loo to match their bedroom. Froggies still are a standard feature, but most of them moved inside the house after they were evicted from the outdoors and our kitty has made lickerty friends with as many as she can. It makes for careful stepping in the middle of the night and a scrutiny of the underside of the toilet seat every time one feels the need to visit. Never mind that slapping noise in the middle of the night, it is the froggies trying to crawl up the curtains in the bedroom. I bet you cant wait to visit.

The Thank You Lady

There is not a huge choice for dining locally if you are looking for something more special than fish and chips or chinese. However, we found a fantastic cafe at Forest Hill, about 15 minutes away.
Its discovery was somewhat left to chance. Last year we had a 24 hour blackout, and having no electricity or water, we were forced to go out just to eat or go to the loo. We asked around and were recommended to this quirky place that has an Italian flair.
Since then we have been about 4 times, it is bit of a treat. We usually go for breakfast because it is the only place I've been that serve pancakes with bacon, poached eggs and maple syrup (yes, abuit strange, I know).
The food is not really what makes the place stand out, it is the service. The Thank You lady is the only person who ever serves us. She says 'Thank You' every time she comes to the table, whether she is giving us menus or coffees or taking our plates away. It is not just polite but obsessive, and the temptation to say 'Thank You' back is enormous.
Michael and I love going there as no one knows us, and it is always quiet and smells amazing. There are loads of great things to look at on the walls and the dessert selection is pure Italian indulgence. You can buy anything from pot pourri, to railway sleeper coat hangers, to pajamas to fake pearl necklaces, or you can just say 'Thank You', over and over. Forest Hill is a very small town with 3 pubs and a main street. It is right in the heart of the Lockyer Valley and has no forest and there is not a hill within 50km. Really, the QLD way of naming places is just bizarre, but this place is a real find.

The grass, she is tall

See here, in this photo, this is what our yard (in all its enormity) looks like on an average 'cows come by' day. The good ole cows munch it down to cricket pitch level and you can see sweeping views, well certainly you can see the kitty once she gets off the porch.
Now we only have ten cows, who hate me, and so they never come up to the house and therefore our grass is now pushing the 1m in length. Michael has this little push mower, but the question is, when you back into property that large, where do you stop mowing? Pretty soon it will be above my head and I will have to trawl through to find my car.
It will be 'welcome to the grass safari, watch out for lions'. Which brings us to the duck. One of the two ducks - 'Duck' and 'Pinot' are missing, we dont know which one because they only come by the house when it rains and we cant tell them apart. But the other one has found a boyfriend amongst the native duckies and has moved in with him. We think that the missing duck may have been disposed of in a jealous duck on duck friendship bust up. Will keep you posted.

Its a blogging blog blog

Yep, its time for a blog, for my friends down south and my friends way up north to keep up with my silly life here on the farm.

Anyway, as you know Michael and I live on a farm at work. It usually has 2 humans, 2 tame ducks, 1 tame kitty, about 40 cows with their baby calves (would like to say tame, but they are just crazy, heaps of green frogs and most recently 2 snakes (that we've see anyway).
So latest news on the farm, the cows have been rounded up for counting and branding and all that stuff. We have been left with NEW cows- 10 cows and 5 calves, who Hate us I might add. This means that they never come to the house to eat our lovely long grass. Hence the rise in the snake population.
Given the number of snakes we regularly see at work I have got over the heart stopping icky feeling I have everytime I see a snake (mostly because we usually just see green ones). However, I was not prepared for the green ssnake I found sticking out of the letter box the other day when I got home. He had posted himself through the newspaper hole, with a tale sticking out one end and his head out the other. He was not impressed to be interrupted trying to catch the fat froggy who has been living in the letter box for a month. Funnily enough, I didn't reach for the camera, which is really strange for me. I reached for
the phone and called Michael, who was inside the house. While I was not scared, I was mortified that he had been there all day and let it happen! (obviously still not completely rational in prescence of snakes yet). Anyway, snakey took off as soon as he saw my nokia (he probably thought I was calling the snake man to take him away). Would be glad not to see him again.
In other news, we had a tremendous amount of rain yesterday and our creek was over the road last night, which was pretty cool. I am wondering when we will have our first flood day when we cant make it to work (I dont own gumboots and will not be wading across the ford for anyone). But the water receeded by this morning and just left a bunch of debris. At least we have water, last year they were in drought, but now, every time it rains and the water comes out the overflow part of the water tank, I feel justified to take a bath. It also happens to be the only time that the ducks actually come home to eat. Usually they just hang out at the dam with the other ducks, I imagine this is what it would be like to have grown up kids who have moved out.