The Fixer

It’s unflattering to be outwitted by rodents. University educated. Top mark in Accounting Theory. Professional and community status. A dab hand at rock breaking. All to naught, for yet again the the cheeky little scamps proved that rat cunning is mightier than a solid grasp of abstract concepts! Over the course of one night, they’d dug a tunnel under the house firewall, and gained access to the cosy protected underneath of the building.

This week has felt positively wintry. A storm blew up across the Southern Ocean from the frozen continent, Antarctica. It’s sure must be cold down there. Grey skies and chilly breezes ruled supreme. Few things are as unappealing as being pelted with ice falling from the sky. The big dog Ollie, usually a solid companion, took one look at the approaching storm, and ditched my arse. Boss, I don’t want this man! OK, so I let him back indoors where the wood heater leant some late spring cheer. No such luck for me, the chicken enclosure needed it’s daily maintenance. At least when inside the shed attending to the birds needs, a person was protected from the stinging hail. Ollie chose well.

Clearly the rats have been feeling the combination of wintry weather and late spring lean pickings, and thought to themselves, possibly wisely, that conditions were utopian in the house. So they attempted a break in, again. Unlike the tiny mice, rats are way too physically large to get inside the house. But once under the floor they’ll make toasty warm nests in the thick insulation, which is a nuisance. Who knows if they decide to sharpen their teeth on electrical cables or plumbing pipes? Best if they can’t enjoy such comforts!

The rodents know the rules about not getting under the house, they just don’t care! So on Friday morning (the only sunny day last week) we’d been planning to take the day off any and all work. Except there was this rat hole to deal with. The perimeter of the house is checked every day for incursions, and I can assure casually confident readers, the rats never stop testing the boundaries. Remember that the next time you’re considering how to store feed, any food stuffs.

Presumably it takes a lot of effort for a small creature like a rat, to dig a hole. And once there is an established tunnel, the rodents can take their time checking out any wins from this new source. Fortunately, the rats have to eat, and so they can only throw so much energy at an exploratory excavation project, before they have to go back to hunting in their more usual habitats. On the first night, there wouldn’t have been much time for exploration, so their project work was something of a gamble.

It is impossible to fill these sorts of tunnels with loose material, for the rodents simply have an easier time of it on their next dig, which from experience, will take place the following night. We abandoned our ideas for a day off, and fixed the problem before it escalated further.

A long trench, about a foot deep was dug at the rear of the house.

During the digging, alert readers will note that I accidentally broke some lower sections of the fibre cement sheeting. The bright blue moisture barrier can be seen, which itself sits over 16mm / 0.625 inch thick fire rated plaster and a strong frame. Tough stuff, and the combination has been tested to survive 90 minutes of direct flame contact without failure.

Longer term readers will recall that after the Lesser Mouse Wars earlier in the year, we’d done this exact same task around most of the house. Except, hubris being a very real problem, I’d presumed that this side facing into the courtyard had already been done. Turns out, I was wrong. The trench stopped abruptly at a small test concrete section which was done a few years ago – thus my confused memories. Oh well, the rats are ensuring this particular job is going to be done both well, and thoroughly.

The test section is a different arrangement, but as it seems to work just fine, I left it as is. The material removed from the trench was mostly crushed rock with lime, and to that I added cement powder in a ratio which produces a water resistant concrete. A wheelbarrow was used to mix the lot up.

The broken section of fibre-cement was re-glued to the backing, using roof and gutter silicone sealant. Then the wet cement was carefully placed back into the trench and smoothed out.

The wonderful thing about this system is that despite their rat cunning, the rodents dig into the crushed rock with lime, only to discover an extraordinarily hard material – the cement. If they begin a tunnel from further back and go deeper, they again hit the cement. They’ll never give up trying, but there is no need to make their lives easy is there?

As the concrete cures, presumably moisture content in the mixture is reduced, and so the colour lightens up.

The remaining question which bothered me was: Were the rat/s now trapped under the house? Fortunately there is a simple test to resolve this last uncertainty. A small plate of rat bait was placed under the floor with exactly ten pellets. If any are consumed, then there is the answer. As of Monday morning, the bait remains untouched. Sometimes you have to act quickly.

The reason we wanted the day off work, was because the previous night we’d travelled an hours drive up north to an inland town in order to see a band perform, local legends: The Rubens.

Must be something in the water this week, for that night also went a bit off the rails, before order was soon restored! We’d decided to have dinner at a pub near to the venue.

Down Under, the chicken parma is the meal by which the quality of a commercial kitchen can be judged. What is a parma? It’s a chicken schnitzel with napoli tomato sauce, with a layer of ham and cheese. If you haven’t tried it yet, you’re missing out! From hindsight I probably caused the food drama. The meal is usually accompanied with either salad and chips, or vegetables and chips. It’s not my usual behaviour to request alterations to meals, and the reason for this level of caution is the ‘onion / mushroom soup’ scene in the Fight Club film, if you know, you know.

However, it’s accepted practice in this country that a parma comes with either the salad or vegetable option. Having access to a garden full of fresh salad ingredients all year around, I avoid commercial salads. How could they be better than what I can harvest? Mostly they aren’t. Some disguise the lack of freshness with aromatic Balsamic vinegars, but it doesn’t change the underlying issue – freshness. So I prefer the vegetable option, and asked what should have been a simple question: Does the parma come with chips and vegetables? And that’s where things went wrong. Turns out it didn’t, and neither did the meal ever arrive. After a pint of cider on an empty stomach, an hour of time, several confused conversations, the owner apologised profusely for the total mess up and gave me a refund. I had the impression that as that happened, the meals were in the kitchen being made, but too bad, so sad for them. They need better systems, and we had to leave the pub to catch the show.

The venue was only a few minutes away, so at the gate where tickets were being checked, I discovered that the band had changed ticketing agents months ago. Another fine mess up. The new ticketing folks announced with a cold hard certainty based on flawed information, that we were not on the door list. Cool as a cucumber and without conveying emotion, I explained that the VIP tickets were bought from the bands website, and it doesn’t get any more official than that. At that moment a guy working at venue with impressively thick facial hair and a personable manner, checked out the tickets and smoothed everything over. A lovely bloke, and he took us on a tour of the venue and answered the many questions we had, like how do we get up to the seated balcony area – it being a standing only gig. He even gave good advice on how to bring food in, and where to get it. The night was saved, and a most excellent dinner of a basket of fries and a gourmet pizza were enjoyed. How many venues allow patrons to take ceramic plates of food into? Lovely stuff, and all very country-hospitality like.

And because we were early, we nabbed front row balcony seats for the show. The band were awesome, and the ear plugs reduced the risk of industrial deafness! Respect to the Mr Fixer who sorted everything out and left only good memories.

Earlier in the week a poorly sited fruit tree was dug up and relocated. It had been over shadowed by stronger companions, but deserved a second chance. Years ago we’d become enamoured of the whole ‘food forest’ concept, but abandoned the idea after a few seasons of testing. The thick vegetation at ground level meant that rats and rabbits had the best time ever in the orchards. Long ago we cleared all of the undergrowth. It is possible food forests work somewhere, just not here. Unfortunately some of the fruit trees had been planted too close together, and over time we’ve been correcting the spacing.

It’s worth the effort to dig up and relocate such trees, and here is another Apricot which was done about the same time a year ago.

Over the course of a year, the plant has settled into its new more sunnier location. The tree has produced some lush growth. Observant readers will notice the rampant rootstock. These multiple trunks will be cut back over the next month or so because eventually they’ll outcompete the grafted and more desirable part. But it’s also a good idea to allow those extra leaves to harvest some sunlight and provide extra energy for the developing root system. It’s all a compromise this stuff.

The freezing icy hail yesterday left some damage on the more advanced Apricots. What can I say? They’re at their climactic southerly margins here, and some years the trees work, others, not so much. The tiny chunks of frozen water burn the leaves and pock mark the fruit. This produce would be rejected by most sellers, but it has zero impact on the flavour or texture – it’s just a skin texture issue. You can see the cold burn marks on the leaves and fruit, big deal! Most purchased Apricots taste like cardboard to me, and this is a travesty, for when they’re sun ripened, it’s a real treat for the palate!

Apricots are a touch cold sensitive. The rest of the plants shrugged off the icy Antarctic blast over past week. Check out the kitchen garden.

Minor hail storms with near freezing air, are no problem for selected citrus trees. One of the more interesting varieties growing here is a Pomello, which someone crossed with an orange, and despite its youth, the small tree produces some tasty brekkie treats:

Observant readers will note the steel welded mesh which protects the tasty bark from pesky hungry rabbits, and also a thick band of petroleum jelly which protects the leaves from overly active ants. The ants are a nuisance for they farm sugar sucking aphids on the leaves. I’d be OK with the ants activities, except the leaves soon become completely black with aphid poop, and the health of the tree declines. If the insects can’t decide to share, they’ll get none. They can’t have nice things.

I’ve long been trying to obtain seeds for the North American pawpaw. With no evidence, I have a vague feeling that the tree will grow well here, but can the seeds be obtained easily? I don’t think so. A few years ago I trialled some, and it turned out they were incorrectly labelled. So now, in addition to the Asian and European varieties of chestnut, we have a North American chestnut growing – from seed. It’s flowering this year at the same time as all the rest. Funny to think that this vigorous tree has become endangered in it’s own bioregion.

Mulberries grow well here, and we’ve got a few different varieties. My observations of other areas suggest that this tree needs plentiful heat and sunlight. I didn’t optimise for that, and all but one specimen grows in a shady-ish locale. The fruit requires a hot and dry year to produce decent flavour. There’s enough climate variability here that this will happen, but maybe not this cold and wet year.

By next month, we’ll be flooded with black and red currants, gooseberries, jostaberries and their ilk. These must be the easiest of all plants to grow and reproduce, for they’ll happily take from hardwood sticks planted into the ground at the right time of year. The tart tasting fruits are used for wine making, although can be eaten fresh.

I’ve noticed that as the trees age, the root systems seem to be able to harvest more minerals and watr, for the fruit gets larger. And it’s worthwhile mentioning that none of the trees here are irrigated. We don’t have the water reserves for that! Far out. Plum trees in particular seem to be having a good year.

Peaches are another funny tree here. When young, they’ll entirely succumb to the dreaded curly leaf. In years gone past, I’ve sprayed fungicides on the trees, and it didn’t seem to matter. The initial crop of leaves would simply look blistered, then fall off. Another set of leaves would re-grow, and it sure would be hard on the tree. Eventually I gave up spraying, and just let nature do what it will. The oldest peach tree is a local variety known as Anzac, and there is no curly leaf these days. The younger trees have a mix of affected, and unaffected leaves – but I do less work and reduce costs by not spraying. The outcomes are much the same, here at least. Things may be different elsewhere

Pears are some of the tallest of all fruit trees, and I do worry that they’re getting a bit out of hand. However, they also seem super-hardy. We grow both Asian and European varieties, and both are tasty, but different. My favourite are the red European pears.

I’m unsurprised that apples are considered the ancient fruit of wisdom. Above all other varieties of tree fruits, they’re the hardiest and most productive. We could easily lose half of the entire apple crop to the parrots and possums, and not notice. Most of the harvest is used to make cider.

There are some other unusual tree crops growing, and the self fertile Carob tree has produced heaps of pods this year. Bizarrely, they’re ready to harvest when almost rotten looking, and in the next photo you can see three stages of ripeness.

Woe is us, for a late February large hail storm wiped out all of the tree crops earlier in the year. Up until that point, it looked like we were going to enjoy a bountiful hazelnut harvest, but no, all gone in under an hour. This summer may make up for that lack.

One of the fig trees growing here is huge, whilst the rest are pushing around six foot, but will grow larger. When the fruit is good (and they’re technically edible flowers), they’re very good indeed.

One of the tree fruits which the birds love, are the Cherries, and we get a few, but not many. Still, the parrots have to eat too.

Fingers crossed that the local climate doesn’t produce too many more shocks for the trees.

Onto the flowers:

The temperature outside now at about 10am is 15’C (60’F). So far for this year there has been 1,111.0mm (43.7 inches) which is up from last weeks total of 1,069.0mm (42.1 inches)