grahamg
Old codger
- Location
- South of Manchester, UK
Here’s a poem which tells the story of farming years.
The Dairy Farmer,
The mob who had employed me, were on the big "downsize"
It was definitely "game over" though not time, for my demise
I'd reached the age of 45; I'd made my way ok
The kids had finished Uni, I had to move away
The time had come for me, to really deal with life
The banks and other mobs, were all in real big strife
I had a sum of money; it was all I'd ever earned
I had to use it wisely, not let myself get burned
I had my pride; I wanted work, but not just any job
Then there came, a great idea, it was perfect for the Bob
It would park my money safely, and employ me just the same
Whilst giving me some dignity, some credit to my name
I traveled out of Melbourne, searched my home state far and wide
Looking for a dairy farm, a place to gain some pride
I found it near the Murray, it was broken down and cheap
I knew my many talents, could transform the crumbling heap
I arrived to find machinery, and a run down milking shed
I'd begun to face reality, what had gone on in my head?
I was too unfit and lacking skills, I sat and pondered long
This time I'd bitten off too much, this time I may be wrong
I wandered round my all new world; I checked the sheds and tractor
I saw I didn't have a clue, there was so much more to factor
I really faced a challenge, it was conquer this or die
There were just so many questions, the one most asked was, why?
I stood among the silence; I felt the hot sun burn
I looked about and saw no one, I felt my first concern
I could see the cows, the dairy shed, and the stack yard full of hay
My previous life in Melbourne seemed so very far away.
Still, I wasn't one to throw the towel; I'd never backed away
I bit the bullet, and fed the cows, two or three of rolls of hay
That day I drove a tractor, which I'd never done before
I learned to use a hay cart; I'd opened up the door
So here I was, a farmer, though I had a way to go
I'd have my learning problems, but my brain, it wasn't slow
My body screamed in agony, I pushed beyond the pale
I just kept on working, because I didn't want to fail
The days all joined together, like one long and endless chore
Even in the darkness, there was always something more
Like irrigation, calving down, topping, or repairing a fence
It was all so very exhausting, but to me it all made sense
I first took on the dairy shed, and soon, it was complete
It was calving time, and soon my shed, a deadline had to meet
The cows began to flood in, my calving skills soon grew
I was full on Dairy Farming; once again, I'd broken through
They said I wouldn't last, no one could do alone
The massive task I'd taken on, I'd be worked down to the bone
They watched and heard me curse and swear, they saw me struggle on
The word was out, I'd never do, and soon I would be gone
But alone and unassisted, I'd gone off up the track
With very little knowledge, and a badly damaged back
I'd taken on a monster, and to all who watched, t'was clear
That "city bloke" was hard to beat, he'd survived another year
Soon all the fences were replaced, and a brand new bore was sunk
The tracks were graded, the delvers cleared, and the drinking troughs were drunk
The cattle were mostly choppers, but I slowly persevered
To wind up with a cell count, that would have me loudly cheered
My body had grown stronger; I'd let nothing block my way
Be it digging out a broken pipe, or unloading rolls of hay
I'd start my days at 3.00 am and stop with last chore done
It was nothing short of slavery, but I just wouldn't run
The sun beat down and sapped my strength, it burnt my pale skin
But I was now in battle; there was just no giving in
So I milked, and topped, and watered, and I fixed up my machines
To make my lot reality, not just the stuff of dreams
I farmed with basic instincts, on my piece of fertile ground
I never asked for favour, though I helped all those around
Always an assistant, a labourer, or less
I made myself a "Dairy Farmer", out of a rotting mess.
Despite the snide remarks, of the cynics far and wide
Who wished I'd fail, or give it up, or run away and hide
I knew that I was different, not your ordinary bloke
To me the local critics, were nothing but a joke
I'd dread the roar of semi's, on a forty degree day
Delivering, five hundred rolls, of winter's fresh rolled hay
I didn't have a loader, so it was push and shove
I wrestled every roll by hand, that job was hard to love
Then there was the drenching, where I'd stand all day and fight
The head of every animal, as they dealt with inbuilt fright
Size just doesn't matter, nor experience it seems
I took it on, all by myself, and realised my dreams
So many jobs and all so hard, all sapping of my power
Most days I'd be so tired, I didn't even shower
I'd come inside and fall asleep, and wake again next morning
Rush outside, and milk the cows, as another day was dawning.
The house was always empty, the place was never warm
It lacked the feel and voices, of the usual family swarm
Nobody to talk to, no one to lend a hand
No one should ever envy, a lone bloke on the land.
I'm a bit of a perfectionist; I like to do things well
I wanted a reward, for my life in that dammed hell
Every milking, I would check, each tiny little thing
I hoped my endless diligence, a trophy would soon bring
It took years of endless effort, to finally reach my goal
Each time I'd find myself so close, then fall back in some hole
But in the year of 99, some suits came up my drive
They had my long sought trophy, I really felt alive
I now had all the secrets, I had proven myself alone
All those hard long years, set my future in cold stone
I’d worked in total perfection; I’d left not one thing to chance
I’d covered all the angles; I’d earned my merry dance
I'd finally reached a level that few would ere achieve
Especially alone; it was so hard to believe
Of fourteen thousand dairymen, I was in the top five hundred
I'd taken on the impossible, and all their trophies plundered
You've never seen a prouder man; you'd better believe it mate
As I screwed each "excellence award" upon my farms front gate
I now had something tangible; to show I'd earned my title
"Bob P, Dairy Farmer", to be "something" was so vital
I had no rotary dairy, or all their fancy gear
But I showed those country boys my heels, year after flaming year
It took all the effort one could muster, to achieve those hard earned prizes
There was no room for error, short cuts, or compromises
Most lifetime farmers you will find, have never been awarded
So it's fair to say, my hat trick, must surely be applauded
One has to understand, I did three peoples work alone
Yet I did it all in excellence, the credit's all my own
I'd taken on the Milk Co Ops, the Water Mobs and all
I'd gone absolutely feral, and was standing very tall
Outside the gate, the enemy, the blood sucking parasites
I took them on, and kicked their butts, I knew my flamin rights.
The years began to take their toll, my neighbours one and all
Had each decided to call it quits, they'd hit the flamin wall
But on I went, still milking strong, until I saw it clear
It was time to bite the bullet, a drought was very near
I made a brave decision, and sold off all the stock
By locking up the farm, I made a giant grassy block
I called in all the contractors, to cut, rake, and roll, my hay
And soon I'd made enough hard cash, for another years pay
And then there was the water, Mother Nature's liquid gold
It wasn't long, before I heard, the Auctioneer say "sold"
The time had come to take a break, with my work dogs Cass and Jack
I took off with my trailer, into the great outback
I travelled up to Darwin, across to Broome and down to Perth
Then out onto the Nullarbor, covering half the nation's girth
But back home there awaiting, was the wind up of the farm
Though another crop of hay, wouldn't do me any harm
So I went about my planning, as I waited for some offers
I sold that seasons hay and water, a bit more for my coffers
It seemed the drought had scared away, any potential buyers
Or was it just those agents conning; the dirty rotten liars
They'd come up the driveway, in their flashy flamin cars
They'd talk to me, as if they thought; I belonged with the Galah's
They'd say that things were looking crook, the market it was flooded
But I wasn't anybodies fool; I'd been well and truly blooded
They'd soon be sent upon their way, their tails between their legs
I gave that lot, real short shift, the stupid flamin dregs
I knew the scene, and I was sure, despite their tales of woe
Sooner or later, like everything, we all reap what ere we sow
The farm was fast depreciating; the plant on it last legs,
And then from out of nowhere, came a couple of city eggs
They both had several horses, and were after a "tree change"
They saw themselves as "frontiersmen", out on the flamin range
I saw through their delusions, but I didn't make them wise
There was no point; I'd seen the lust, of farm fantasy in their eyes
So off they went excited, by the deal they thought they'd nailed
As I went back inside, believing, I should probably be jailed
Within the next three drawn out weeks, both titles they were sold
And I was very happy, though I felt a little bold
They'd offered up great sums of cash, which I took without guilt
And pretty soon the "frontiersmen", their new lives they had built
The day had come to end the task, it was clearance sale day
As the Auctioneers did their job, I kept out of their way
The locals they had gathered, there were bargains here they thought
They roamed about inspecting things, and soon they'd all been bought
Twelve years had passed, I could stand proud, I'd done a real good job
I'd stood alone, fought my fights, and made a few more bob
I could walk away, with head held high, the time was right to move
I'd survived alone, in a hell on earth, there was nothing left to prove
These days I’m a pensioner; I've spent the cash invested
And just north west of Melbourne, you'll find where I'm now nested
Breakdowns, crook cows, and incompetent flamin fools
Have all been put behind me, I've downed my farming tools
The Dairy Farmer,
The mob who had employed me, were on the big "downsize"
It was definitely "game over" though not time, for my demise
I'd reached the age of 45; I'd made my way ok
The kids had finished Uni, I had to move away
The time had come for me, to really deal with life
The banks and other mobs, were all in real big strife
I had a sum of money; it was all I'd ever earned
I had to use it wisely, not let myself get burned
I had my pride; I wanted work, but not just any job
Then there came, a great idea, it was perfect for the Bob
It would park my money safely, and employ me just the same
Whilst giving me some dignity, some credit to my name
I traveled out of Melbourne, searched my home state far and wide
Looking for a dairy farm, a place to gain some pride
I found it near the Murray, it was broken down and cheap
I knew my many talents, could transform the crumbling heap
I arrived to find machinery, and a run down milking shed
I'd begun to face reality, what had gone on in my head?
I was too unfit and lacking skills, I sat and pondered long
This time I'd bitten off too much, this time I may be wrong
I wandered round my all new world; I checked the sheds and tractor
I saw I didn't have a clue, there was so much more to factor
I really faced a challenge, it was conquer this or die
There were just so many questions, the one most asked was, why?
I stood among the silence; I felt the hot sun burn
I looked about and saw no one, I felt my first concern
I could see the cows, the dairy shed, and the stack yard full of hay
My previous life in Melbourne seemed so very far away.
Still, I wasn't one to throw the towel; I'd never backed away
I bit the bullet, and fed the cows, two or three of rolls of hay
That day I drove a tractor, which I'd never done before
I learned to use a hay cart; I'd opened up the door
So here I was, a farmer, though I had a way to go
I'd have my learning problems, but my brain, it wasn't slow
My body screamed in agony, I pushed beyond the pale
I just kept on working, because I didn't want to fail
The days all joined together, like one long and endless chore
Even in the darkness, there was always something more
Like irrigation, calving down, topping, or repairing a fence
It was all so very exhausting, but to me it all made sense
I first took on the dairy shed, and soon, it was complete
It was calving time, and soon my shed, a deadline had to meet
The cows began to flood in, my calving skills soon grew
I was full on Dairy Farming; once again, I'd broken through
They said I wouldn't last, no one could do alone
The massive task I'd taken on, I'd be worked down to the bone
They watched and heard me curse and swear, they saw me struggle on
The word was out, I'd never do, and soon I would be gone
But alone and unassisted, I'd gone off up the track
With very little knowledge, and a badly damaged back
I'd taken on a monster, and to all who watched, t'was clear
That "city bloke" was hard to beat, he'd survived another year
Soon all the fences were replaced, and a brand new bore was sunk
The tracks were graded, the delvers cleared, and the drinking troughs were drunk
The cattle were mostly choppers, but I slowly persevered
To wind up with a cell count, that would have me loudly cheered
My body had grown stronger; I'd let nothing block my way
Be it digging out a broken pipe, or unloading rolls of hay
I'd start my days at 3.00 am and stop with last chore done
It was nothing short of slavery, but I just wouldn't run
The sun beat down and sapped my strength, it burnt my pale skin
But I was now in battle; there was just no giving in
So I milked, and topped, and watered, and I fixed up my machines
To make my lot reality, not just the stuff of dreams
I farmed with basic instincts, on my piece of fertile ground
I never asked for favour, though I helped all those around
Always an assistant, a labourer, or less
I made myself a "Dairy Farmer", out of a rotting mess.
Despite the snide remarks, of the cynics far and wide
Who wished I'd fail, or give it up, or run away and hide
I knew that I was different, not your ordinary bloke
To me the local critics, were nothing but a joke
I'd dread the roar of semi's, on a forty degree day
Delivering, five hundred rolls, of winter's fresh rolled hay
I didn't have a loader, so it was push and shove
I wrestled every roll by hand, that job was hard to love
Then there was the drenching, where I'd stand all day and fight
The head of every animal, as they dealt with inbuilt fright
Size just doesn't matter, nor experience it seems
I took it on, all by myself, and realised my dreams
So many jobs and all so hard, all sapping of my power
Most days I'd be so tired, I didn't even shower
I'd come inside and fall asleep, and wake again next morning
Rush outside, and milk the cows, as another day was dawning.
The house was always empty, the place was never warm
It lacked the feel and voices, of the usual family swarm
Nobody to talk to, no one to lend a hand
No one should ever envy, a lone bloke on the land.
I'm a bit of a perfectionist; I like to do things well
I wanted a reward, for my life in that dammed hell
Every milking, I would check, each tiny little thing
I hoped my endless diligence, a trophy would soon bring
It took years of endless effort, to finally reach my goal
Each time I'd find myself so close, then fall back in some hole
But in the year of 99, some suits came up my drive
They had my long sought trophy, I really felt alive
I now had all the secrets, I had proven myself alone
All those hard long years, set my future in cold stone
I’d worked in total perfection; I’d left not one thing to chance
I’d covered all the angles; I’d earned my merry dance
I'd finally reached a level that few would ere achieve
Especially alone; it was so hard to believe
Of fourteen thousand dairymen, I was in the top five hundred
I'd taken on the impossible, and all their trophies plundered
You've never seen a prouder man; you'd better believe it mate
As I screwed each "excellence award" upon my farms front gate
I now had something tangible; to show I'd earned my title
"Bob P, Dairy Farmer", to be "something" was so vital
I had no rotary dairy, or all their fancy gear
But I showed those country boys my heels, year after flaming year
It took all the effort one could muster, to achieve those hard earned prizes
There was no room for error, short cuts, or compromises
Most lifetime farmers you will find, have never been awarded
So it's fair to say, my hat trick, must surely be applauded
One has to understand, I did three peoples work alone
Yet I did it all in excellence, the credit's all my own
I'd taken on the Milk Co Ops, the Water Mobs and all
I'd gone absolutely feral, and was standing very tall
Outside the gate, the enemy, the blood sucking parasites
I took them on, and kicked their butts, I knew my flamin rights.
The years began to take their toll, my neighbours one and all
Had each decided to call it quits, they'd hit the flamin wall
But on I went, still milking strong, until I saw it clear
It was time to bite the bullet, a drought was very near
I made a brave decision, and sold off all the stock
By locking up the farm, I made a giant grassy block
I called in all the contractors, to cut, rake, and roll, my hay
And soon I'd made enough hard cash, for another years pay
And then there was the water, Mother Nature's liquid gold
It wasn't long, before I heard, the Auctioneer say "sold"
The time had come to take a break, with my work dogs Cass and Jack
I took off with my trailer, into the great outback
I travelled up to Darwin, across to Broome and down to Perth
Then out onto the Nullarbor, covering half the nation's girth
But back home there awaiting, was the wind up of the farm
Though another crop of hay, wouldn't do me any harm
So I went about my planning, as I waited for some offers
I sold that seasons hay and water, a bit more for my coffers
It seemed the drought had scared away, any potential buyers
Or was it just those agents conning; the dirty rotten liars
They'd come up the driveway, in their flashy flamin cars
They'd talk to me, as if they thought; I belonged with the Galah's
They'd say that things were looking crook, the market it was flooded
But I wasn't anybodies fool; I'd been well and truly blooded
They'd soon be sent upon their way, their tails between their legs
I gave that lot, real short shift, the stupid flamin dregs
I knew the scene, and I was sure, despite their tales of woe
Sooner or later, like everything, we all reap what ere we sow
The farm was fast depreciating; the plant on it last legs,
And then from out of nowhere, came a couple of city eggs
They both had several horses, and were after a "tree change"
They saw themselves as "frontiersmen", out on the flamin range
I saw through their delusions, but I didn't make them wise
There was no point; I'd seen the lust, of farm fantasy in their eyes
So off they went excited, by the deal they thought they'd nailed
As I went back inside, believing, I should probably be jailed
Within the next three drawn out weeks, both titles they were sold
And I was very happy, though I felt a little bold
They'd offered up great sums of cash, which I took without guilt
And pretty soon the "frontiersmen", their new lives they had built
The day had come to end the task, it was clearance sale day
As the Auctioneers did their job, I kept out of their way
The locals they had gathered, there were bargains here they thought
They roamed about inspecting things, and soon they'd all been bought
Twelve years had passed, I could stand proud, I'd done a real good job
I'd stood alone, fought my fights, and made a few more bob
I could walk away, with head held high, the time was right to move
I'd survived alone, in a hell on earth, there was nothing left to prove
These days I’m a pensioner; I've spent the cash invested
And just north west of Melbourne, you'll find where I'm now nested
Breakdowns, crook cows, and incompetent flamin fools
Have all been put behind me, I've downed my farming tools