dairing day-

Korero (AEWS), Volume 2, Issue 13, 3 July 1944, Page 3

dairing day-

A KORERO Report

It is true in a sense that a dairyfarmer’s day is never done. Like policemen, doctors, and soldiers, he is on duty twenty-four hours a day, if he has a conscientious interest in his farm, but in practice the keyword is organization and planning, Though his responsibility is always with him, foresight and system gradually lessen the actual demand on his time, until the improved farm is eventually almost running itself. There is, of course, a multiplicity of jobs throughout the year, especially on an unimproved property, and even after improvement there is a periodical round of maintenance-work, but there are many compensations, particularly for a family man, and for about two months in the year work tapers off sufficiently to enable the farmer to think of time off and holidays. Even milking-time, highlight of the dairying day, need not hold the terrors of drudgery usually associated with it by townsfolk. For medium-sized and large herds, milking-machines are well within the reach of competent men, and few parts of New Zealand’s dairyfarming country are inaccessible to electric power. Consider the case of a well-established and proficient dairy-farmer in New Zealand’s best-known butter and milk province—Taranaki. This man has a 90-acre property near Inglewood, on the sunny side of Egmont. He took it up a few years after returning from the last war, and though hard work was demanded to get it into shape, he had set to with a will, and, having bought wisely in the first place, soon had the satisfaction of seeing his labours bear fruit. The farm is in the heart of Taranaki’s beautiful rolling downs, rich in soil, and well watered with clear streams.

Like most farmers in the district, this man early appreciated the value of trees, and now his cows have ample shelter from cold winds and shade from the heat of summer. Moreover, not content with bare fences or intractable gorse, he hedged his fields with barberry—a close-knit, sturdy shrub, also popular in Marlborough and other parts of the South Islandthat provides shelter against the wind. Perhaps his most strenuous task in the early days was the clearing of stumps, and fencing, with little outside help, and no family to lighten his labours, but it was a job worth doing, and well accomplished, the land now bearing no trace of its original rugged appearance. Cowsand Joey the —are by no means. all the domestic animals on the farm. This farmer runs quite a profitable side-line in pigs, and has his own chickens and ducks. For haulage and similar work he has three draught horses, and, of course, the indispensable dogs complete the picture. Add to these a large and nutritious vegetable garden and flower plots, and you are well on the way towards self-support, in foodstuffs at least. A Day’s Round As it is the season of most work, take a day’s round in summer for an idea of what a dairy-farmer’s life entails. Reveille is at 5.30 a.m., when the farmer and his family—he has four young sons helping him nowrise, and, after a cup of tea, milk the cows and feed the pigs. The whole herd of fifty-odd cows can be put through with the machine in about two hours, and, after cleaning out the shed, the family breakfasts at about 8 o’clock. During the morning and afternoon the workers have many

tasks, mainly maintenance, such as harrowing and weeding ; harvesting of hay ; wood-cutting ; sundry repairs to fencing, gates, outhouses, and so on ; carting shingle for muddy’ gateways ; gardening ; digging and clearing of drains ; top-dressing ; and many other odd jobs that crop up on such a place. The midday meal is taken at 12 o’clock, and the evening milking is begun at 4.30 p.m., so that normally the days’ round should end by 6.30 or 7 p.m. Hay is harvested during the months of December and January, and the farmers of the neighbourhood usually co-operate in this work, both in labour and in the use of equipment, keeping down what would be otherwise •

high costs. This spirit of cooperation, shown in harvesting, is also seen in many other ways among country folk, especially in times of sickness or hardship. The most important task, is of course, that of getting the cows milked, but the whole herd need only be milked twice a day for about ten months of the year. Various cows are brought in late in the year, and some early, so that for about two months during the “ dry’ ” period enough cows—from eight to ten—are in milk to carry the farm over until spring. Winter is used for general main-tenance-work and preparation for

spring and calving. Even the concreting work around the farm, such as in the milking-sheds and sties, can be done by an industrious and enterprising farmer, and, of course, during the cold weather one of the boons of afforestation is a plentiful supply of firewood. Planning the Day It can be appreciated that a day on a dairy-farm could be an exhausting round of drudgery, but looking ahead and planning against the unlooked-for can reduce it to a fairly predictable routine. Sound workmanship right at the beginning is all important, of course, and pays

dividends in lightened labour in later days, but the competent farmer must be watchful— for that rickety gate, that growing gap in the hedge, the loose boards in the milking-shed, the blocked drain, and a dozen other potential sources of irritation and inefficiency. A 90-acre farm such as this Inglewood farmer owns covers a fair tract of country, and its upkeep can entail a great amount of walking in all weathers, but here again planning can ensure that a man need cover no more ground than absolutely necessary on his rounds. There is a well-meaning, if unfortunately worded, advertisement which says “ Don’t kill your wife with drudgery

—let electricity do the dirty work ! ” The intended meaning is clear, however, and the slogan has a real meaning for the dairy-farmer as well as his wife. In the homestead there is usually found most of the boons of the busy housewifeand no housewife is busier than the farmer’s wife — including refrigerator, vacuumcleaner, range, and the necessary luxury of a radio. As for the

farmer himself, electricity works his milking-machine, provides a reliable supply of hot water, and drives his pressure pump if he has a source of water on the property. All these installations serve to lighten the labour of life on a farm, and—wartime perhaps excepted—are in reach of a prudent and progressive farmer.

A Family Man For a family man the life has mu oh to commend it, in spite of the lack of many conveniences found in towns. It is the healthiest life in the world, and most boys find the work congenial, with a mixture of grown-upness and healthy play that anneals to them. The life

gives children a sounder scale of values, and an appreciation of the simpler things that town children often lack.

A wife with similar interests and ideals is all-important in the life of a dairyfarmer, and it would be hard to find a more perfect partnership anywhere than that between a well-suited farming couple. The work is hard for the wife, no less than for the man, but in the home, too, planning and foresight can accomplish much. It is not a life for every couple— every happily married hard-working couple—but it would be hard to beat for the right people.

Many a returned soldier will consider dairy-farming as a career after the war, but he would do well to think the whole matter over first, to know his own capabilities and shortcomings, and to be careful in buying his land. Many a failing farm could be run successfully by the right man, and, on the other hand, a prosperous place could be a poor proposition in the hands of an incompetent or easy-going farmer. It may not be a get-rich-quick career, but it can provide a happy, healthy life for a man who wants an open-air existence.