This year’s planting is done. It took us 4 weekends, with the weather getting warmer and the clothes fewer as we went. 800 Kalamata in the ground. The young trees root structure was not very good. Some nurseries seem to concentrate more on getting the trees to grow fast rather than ensuring robust well-developed root and vegatative structures. In the long run they will suffer, the trees if it is dry, and the nurseries because they will lose good customers. We will have to cosset them. It is surprisingly dry and there is very little sub-soil moisture. Luckily we have a good size dam, which, although we are into our fifth year of below average rainfall, will see us through summer.

The first weekend of planting was misty and freezing cold, and as we went about our tasks there was a dampened silence about the farm. Even the bird calls sounded far away, and Simon would disappear into the mist as he worked his way down the row cleaning grass off the tree stations. Roger whacked the stakes in, dug the holes and dished out a dollop of pig compost, Anna moved in with the tree, snipped the ties, planted the tree pulled the old stake out and moved Zak, the bloodhound-cross- race horse down the row with her. He is a city dog and becomes quite overwhelmed with delight about the wide open spaces and glorious smells. He forgets himself, and needs watching like a hawk so that he doesn’t give the kangaroos a run for their money with his plate sized feet and ill fitting ears which dance joyfully in every direction as he lopes across the rows.

Gigi, the German Shepherd, likes to stick with the station clearer and hole digger as there is a goldmine of grubbies down there, and no tree will be planted until she has eaten every one of them! Joss brought up the rear with the taping gun, Spotlight’s finest piping for the top tie to the stake, and finally the tree guard.

The second weekend we had Roger to help, and having prised him out of bed early, he only woke up at about 10.30 to discover that Spring had sprung around him, and it was just too beautiful! 5 young snakes and a rather surprised frog were unearthed, admired and tucked back into their havens, the kangaroos watched us with interest from about 10 rows away, and Gigi took to lying looking picturesque in the grass with a small red mud line over the top of her nose denoting that grubbies had been plundered again.

Michael made it for the third weekend. The sun shone, the yellow daisies and wattle had burst into flower, and the scrub was beginning to show a pink tinge as the buds formed. Galahs wheeled and twittered over us in great banks of pink, then grey, and the first mewing of baby magpies could be heard from high up in the grey box trees. Parkas and jumpers came off, leaving our skin to bask in the soft warm breeze as another and another row was completed.

Finally it was just the two of us. The wattle was going over, but still breathtakingly bright and beautiful. With the green paddocks it was not difficult to see why the national colours are green and gold as Olympic excitement began to take a hold! The scrub was a mass of pink and white blossom, and, lying in between the bushes watching us, (thinking, as usual, that we couldn’t see him), was George – the wallaby. His little black ears flicked lazily above the scrub as he lay dozing in the warmth. Bigiboy, the kangaroo that chased us a while back, was there with the girls too, appearing to be just a little put out that we were occupying their favourite part of the grove. As manpower diminished and tasks increased, our bodies became used to the exercise of hoeing, bending, crouching and walking up and down the ridges, our lungs flushed our bodies with wonderful spring smells and fresh air. While we were sitting on the lawn having a cold beer in the evening and enjoying the banjo convention being held by the frogs down on the dam, we couldn’t help thinking how lucky we are to have to work so hard over weekends!