06

fleas. I am not one for using a "Keep out of reach of children" pesticide on dogs, especially when the family will be handling them a lot. Why would it be safe for the dogs and supposedly safe on the dogs if it is not safe in the packet, all nicely trussed up.

So I have changed the dogs' area, perforce, because our piggies, Porgy and Bess, were destroying their old area and about to escape out of boredom, so they now have the bigger area which used to belong to the dogs, and it is concreted, so hopefully piggy-escape-proof.

The fleas don't bother the pigs as, like most flea species, they are species-specific. If a flea bites you that has come from a dog, it is because it is desperate, and will want to leave as soon as it very well can... which will not stop it from biting you again, but rest assured that you are not the only one not enjoying it. Now why does that thought not give us much satisfaction?

So now the dogs co-habit with the cat and her last kitten. Anyone want a kitten? Or a cat? The dogs still have fleas, but nowhere near as much, so at least part of the infestation was due to the dogs' bedding, and now that has changed. I am still combing them on just about a daily basis, but I really should get into the habit of feeding them garlic again, which the fleas can't stand, but I keep forgetting.

But there should not be any fleas, it should be too cold for them. It is a bit like the flies that overwinter. Most drop dead from the cold around here, and give us and the cattle, a break. Not so this winter. The little festers are as thick as, well, flies.

I'll tell you another thing for free, as the saying goes. The tagasaste is out in flower. The smell is lovely, though, but the season should not be. I heard one man reporting that his orange tree has not stopped flowering and fruiting for the last nine months. Hope he likes oranges. From the sound of him, he didn't mind at all.

If you're after free firewood, keep your eyes open. People headed for the tip (dunno the American term, where you take your garbage, especially the large stuff) will happily give you dead bits of wood, and then they don't have to pay tip fees. BE VERY CAREFUL THAT THE TREE FROM WHICH THE WOOD CAME IS NOT POISONOUS TO BURN, NOR THE WOOD TREATED FOR TERMITE PREVENTION. Plants especially to watch out for include liquidamber and oleander.

I am looking forward to far more Op Shop bargains, as I have just landed myself a new job which involves travelling around the South-West. Yay! I just hope I'll have time for them, as I have to pack in a fair few calls each day that I am on the road.

I'm doing a bit of gardening at a couple of places where people can't always help out. Can I advise you to do the same? It gives you a wonderful feeling, just helping, and I tried to maintain anonymity with one place, and did not want any kickback from either, but I have been blessed so much for the small amount that I am doing. Do not volunteer yourself for what you may get out of it in a concrete, tangible sense, but only because you know that it makes you happy to help. To me, it's a bit like getting the chocolate on your pillow in nice motels. You don't book the room just to get the chocolate. But it is nice when you do get a sweet surprise. Think what talents you have that could be of use for someone or some organisation that is needy. Even if you are needy yourself, helping others takes a load off your mind. Every dedicated volunteer I have ever heard talk about the work they do says that they get far more back in terms of satisfaction than they actually donate. Think about it.

We have had such a blustery week. The poor folks to the North of our State (Victoria) have seen more of their precious top soil go off to the slopes of New Zealand. Apparently the mountains there have red snow, because of our dust storms. Bad enough we gave them possums. At least it has been raining here. Quite heavily.

I sloshed out to the chook pen this morning to feed the feathers. At least the liquid state made it easy to clean off my gumboots, but I am still glad that I have set up the bucket with its hard brush nearby. Come planting time, so long as I have not put any nasties in the bucket via the laundry, it will be perfect as a starter for plants. Liquidised chook poo - yummy, yummy, yummy.

The dogs are currently enjoying snoozing in front of the wood burning stove, on the old mohair rug I snaffled when we had the secondhand shop in Adelaide. What a life! Caution was doing her 'poor little me, look at me shiver' routine in the Garden Shed. How could I leave her there, even though the breed is originally German, and would have been out in the snow, hunting and making merry with various critters. I just went into the kitchen, apparently the rug is just not good enough. Mowgli managed to get the pillow from the rocking chair, and when I didn't growl at him, Caution took over the spot and gently moved her son on. So then Mowgli gave me the bald eyeball as he had to put up with sitting on the rug. Poor puppy! Naturally, I took down aonther cushion and let him lie on that.

I have had the most dreadful looks from my daschies when I have insisted that they go outside to relieve themselves. Caution picks up each foot from the cold, wet grass as though she could get contagious frostbite. What a horrible parent owner! She and the cat have at least a once daily spat, and each considers the other a waste of space, but I still haven't figured out the relationship between little Mowgli (Caution's last son) and Cuddles (the last kitten, you sure you don't want another cat? She's cute. Really.). They like the idea of beating each other up, but I'm not sure if they are serious about it.

We have not had the problem with mad cow disease that is affecting the mindset of everyone in North America, but then we have the most paranoid Department of Agriculture in the history of mankind. We even loaned our vets to the UK when they had their outbreak, and there was widespread reporting of the horrors when the vets came back, so everyone on a farm is well and truly aware of what they would be putting their neighbours through if they turned a blind eye themselves.

I'll leave you with the words of Dorothea MacKellar in her ballad, My Country. It has a lovely flow to it, like many of our bush ballads.

The love of field and coppice,

Of green and shaded lanes,

Of ordered woods and gardens

Is running in your veins.

Strong love of grey-blue distance

Brown streams and soft, dim skies -
I know but cannot share it,

My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,

A land of sweeping plains,

Of ragged mountain ranges,

Of droughts and flooding rains.

I love her far horizons,

I lvoe her jewel-sea,

Her beauty and her terror -

The wide brown land for me!

The stark white ring-barked forests,

All tragic to the moon,

The sapphire-misted mountains,

The hot gold hush of noon.

Green tangle of the brushes,

Where lithe lianas coil,

And orchids deck the tree tops

And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!

Her pitiless blue sky,

When sick at heart, around us

We see the cattle die -

But then the grey clouds gather,

And we can bless again

The drumming of an army

The steady, soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!

Land of the Rainbow Gold,

For flood and fire and famine,

She pays us back three-fold.

Over the thirsty paddocks,

Watch, after many days,

The filmy veil of greeness

That thickens as we gaze...

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land -

All you who have not loved her,

You will not understand -

Though Earth holds many splendours,

Wherever I may die,

I know to what brown country

My homing thoughts will fly.

Dominus tecum,

Leonie