This is the garden gate, in operation as our wash stand for showering using bore water from the hose. Dad made its trio of flying tin ducks.
After a long period without rain last year, we ran out of drinking water for only the second time in the last decade. Decent rains finally came in January/February, otherwise we would have been in drought again. Dams had already dried up into mud…
We found out that the tank was dry at breakfast time, when our tea absolutely stank of the rank and sludgy water at its very bottom. The smell is so disgusting and strong that I had to the throw away the kettle.
Before buying a tanker of drinking water, we had our pair of tanks cleaned. The man who did this for us was a former dairy farmer, from a long line of dairy farmers, who told us a most beautiful story.
He had sold his herd of cows to a dairy near Bathurst, a long way from the Hunter. A year and a half later he was in the area, so he went to see his herd. While he was still a long way from a paddock, he saw a cow start running towards him, kicking up her back heels, out to the side, in excitement.
By the time he got to the fence she was there. It was one of his herd and she had recognised him from afar, when he would have been just a small human figure. But she had known him immediately, even though it had been so long and even though she had been taken so far away and even though she could never have expected to see him ever again. He stroked her all over and was moved to tears.
We showered out at the gate for the couple of weeks it took to get the water sorted. And then for a few weeks more just because it was beautiful.