Sheepshit on the Brain

The shearing quarters turn quickly from an abandoned shed and empty yards to an area with massive commotion full of noise and activity. The sheds lie dormant for 11 ½ months and are only revived for a couple weeks of the year when shearing starts not long after mustering.  Here, it lasts just over a week based on a very strict timetable. It begins at exactly 7.30am and end the day exactly on 5.30pm; during their day there is morning and afternoon tea breaks and lunch which again start and end on the dot. According to many shearers, the most tyring part of the day is not dealing with the sheep but dealing with the next sheepshit on the brain shearer beside them. Constantly racing and working harder –“the irresistible compulsion to shear more sheep in the day than someone shearing alongside, or ultimately, to be a ‘gun’, and ‘ring the shed.” (Prato, 2004, p. 55)The shearers sheep count ranges anywhere from 230- 270 sheep per day which is a definite sight to see especially if a quite petite woman is keeping up with the loud mouth strongmen.

We yard up the sheep drafting them into 3 separate pens based on sex and age. Ewe’s (female) and young lambs go in one, weathers (males-de-sexed) in another, and last year’s lambs in another. Last year’s lambs are usually smaller which makes shearing easier, shearers are paid more per lamb, and their wool is worth double of a normal Merino so they are treated as motivators raising productivity tenfold. Yarding can be very difficult especially when Dave is standing in the wrong spot or I’m not yelling enough to push them up. Dave and I did test out rousabouting for a day and successfully mastered the art of throwing a fleece ...which at times didn’t look so ‘art’ like. Dave also learned the art of classing wool, although Dave agreed that he would make a rough wool classer. Basically involving looking at the wool and deciding how good the wool is and where it should be put. To most people all wool looks the same, but as we’ve learnt it is far from it.

(Dave) Another exciting chapter in our jackarooing on the station was being involved from start to finish of lamb marking. As I’m guessing at home all the girls are thinking of heaps of cute looking lambs with their mums, but us blokes looking at these fat lambs thinking which one is best to eat. What an adventure this is, how hard can it be to muster up a big group of lambs and yews at a water tank and walk them 2km to a shed using our bikes? Painful is the answer. When they first here a bike they run as fast as Usain Bolt from the water trough to nearest scrubbiest, sandiest bushland possible and make us chase through on our bikes at speeds between 50 to 80km/hr hoping we don’t hit stumps or end up picking out half the mulga bushes we’ve gone past from the cuts in our shins. Once rounded up you simply walk them to nearest fence down to shed, but there’s more, whoever thought sheep were dumb they aren’t. The minute these older Yews get to the last scrub before the gate they speed off in 5 different directions with only two people on bikes chasing (figure that one out?) Finally when you get them back together as there finally going through the gate there’s one more surprise –Lambs go stupid, the mums go through the gates and lambs turn around and run straight back past you back into the paddock, ahhh. Time for back up grab Jack the farm dog on the back of bike and hoon after the lambs, then when your 20m away let him jump off and pounce on its tail or wool and carry it back in your jacket to shed. That all just happened in 30mins!

After a few days of buggerising around the MOST exciting day was upon me.

After mums passing L, the crazy planning, and frantic phone calls almost every night, my dad met us at the farm! The moment I saw his car in the driveway I started crying! All those calls saying ‘I miss him’ and ‘not long soon’ had finally come to an end. I ran out to him as quick as I could and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a 65 year old man jump out a car so quick either. It was truly the best feeling I’ve had this entire trip.

The last week on the station included many random slow and boring jobs but the last night was a complete ball. It was the farmer’s, son’s, girlfriends 21^st and seriously do these people know how to drink and have a good time. For anyone who knows the show The Farmer wants a Husband, Beck was there and still looking for a husband. She is a loose cannon that one.  There were bomb fires everywhere, drinks at every corner, and racks of lamb roasting on at least 4 barbeque's.

Waking up at 10 o’clock with a massive hangover suggested something.  Few hours later we said our goodbyes to the whole family which was quite emotional. Megan and I had a few thankful words and shared a few tears as over the 3 months I did consider her my second mother. Dave and Dave had their manly words; ‘don’t work too hard’, and ‘Adelaide Crows sucks’.

Dave and I cannot thank the family enough for their time and damn right persistence with us.

We have surely learnt a lot from this and will be great stories to share later down the track.

Thanks again farm family. You have been a real highlight in our trip!

Nice photo to end...