Graduation

Yes, this week was graduation. I feel the same proud trepidation now as I felt leaving university all those years ago. The ceremony (read: dropping my Aunty and Uncle at airport) took place on Thursday and the reins to the farm were officially passed over. The weight of the keys in my hand seemed as heavy as the responsibility that came with them. For some reason I was instantly reminded of some wisdom from my childhood, and it's that advice that I'll keep with me during my time on the farm. Through every rain soaked delivery of hay; every electric shock I get after forgetting to turn the fence off; every time I wonder if I remembered to shut a gate; and especially every time the alarm goes off at 6am and it is still pitch black outside, I will not TRY to be a farmer, I WILL be a farmer.

To be honest, the changeover had begun for both Jo and I earlier in the week. First it manifested itself in an odd desire to pray for rain as opposed to willing the rain to stop. It seems being in a drought will do that to you. Other things were more tangible, such as our wardrobes. I've already mentioned what is inappropriate attire:

(I was attempting to jump over a fence at the time of the incident. The only plus side it that I looked pretty awesome doing it.)

So we thought we'd better get some proper gear. After all, we weren't going to be the apprentices any longer, we were going to be the masters.

BEHOLD:

Trackpants and Gumboots!!! The wonders will never cease.

Of course, Jo and I still had a few last minute lessons to learn before my Aunty and Uncle took off on their European sojourn. The first of these was shifting the lord of the manor (otherwise known as Andrew):

This is me thinking that it might be best to get out of his way:

It turns out I didn't actually need to worry that much as he's a pretty big softy:

Well, either that or he was distracted by the hay.

As for Jo, she was asked if she would mind planting some cabbages for the garden. She's the first to admit that it's not her favourite pastime. Especially when bloodthirsty predators sneak up on you from behind:

I've yet to tell her about the much worse hairy beasts that tend to inhabit hay sheds. Because of the lack of rain we've had to start feeding the cows hay. To them, we're pretty much meals on wheels.

And now here we are. In charge. As I mentioned last time, we have been into the big smoke a few times. According to Jo's friend Auckland is "road works and little else", which is certainly what we've been encountering. Although they do have an enormous Real Groovy record store and suburbs like Ponsonby, which is just cafe's and shops; something Jo is pretty pleased about.

I also mentioned last time about the clay bird shooting, and it is with those photos that I leave you with. Rest assured that these first few days have been good. While we may not be about to have a complete career change, the clean air and quiet countryside are doing us both good. And I personally think that the trackpants and gumboots are pretty fetching too.

Enjoy:

My cousin Richard in charge of the clay bird thrower thingy. You can tell I'm good with this kind of thing.

This is me missing. One of the many times.

My cousin Joshua collecting the clay birds he missed. Okay, that I missed.

And this is a photo of me moments before I actually hit one. With the weakest gun of the lot. I'm pretty sure that being a better shot with a less powerful gun means that I am actually a great shot. There's logic in there somewhere.