GregKidd

Around me are the 25 hectares my brother Philip and I bought three and a half years ago for the development of a yabby farm. At the time, the lot had nothing on it except one dam. No electricity. Now we have not only an electricity connection but seven parallel yabby grow-out ponds plus an extra dam. These additions, along with many others, have taken a heavy toll on our limited finances.

Philip has achieved wonders here because he is creative and skilful with the use of tools. He has the admirable capacity to visualise how a project will work then execute the necessary tasks. And he is transforming a shed into a house for himself, to replace a caravan. All that is very commendable in a man who is still recovering from a broken pelvis!

He applies himself to a certain task until his body tells him to stop. He plops
into his chair in the carport, rests – sometimes over a stubbie of beer – then returns to his labour.

I would love to be able to share the ‘hands
on’ work he does, but my role, acted out
mainly from the Fairfield house 220 kilometres away, is mostly concerned with buying sacks of yabby feed and delivering
them on the visits in which a Melbourne support worker is available to drive me; on the others, I travel to and fro by train, the seventeen-kilogram ventilator strapped onto my lap to work with a local support worker, who distributes feed and attends to maintenance tasks under my direction.

Only Tony has the necessary skills to expand the pond aeration network via the versatility of Polypipe, and he does so one pond per visit.

Since the set-up work has been completed, those visits have become third-weekly or monthly, finances for the trips and the Polypipe permitting.

I give the undertaking my best efforts, which are slotted between the more urgent ones I am impelled to make for the support of
my wife and daughter.

I address one specific task per trip, and usually achieve it. I am secure in the knowledge that in my own way, I too am achieving wonders; they are simply less visible than Philip’s.

The evolution of The Farm includes the agistment of several thoroughbred horses owned by Pat Crabbe. A foal, nicknamed Alex, was born one month ago.

Alex, the third foal Pat has bred on the property, is an energetic chestnut colt who bullies his mother unmercifully. I never tire of watching his antics. A few days ago, when I lured him over to the fence with an extended arm, he allowed me to touch the velvet skin of his mouth.

Another newcomer is the 35 horsepower Ferguson tractor Philip and I bought from our brother Neil and had trucked down from Brisbane. With it came a slasher that is useful for mowing the grass between the ponds.

The Fergie will be even more useful when the remainder of the implements that were part of the purchase arrive.

Shades of my stay as a thirteen-year-old at Sommariva Station in south-west Queensland, and of my time as a fourteen-year-old on the big John Deere on the Darling Downs…