TheGreatReset(of2020)

If there was no legal requirement, would you still do it?

Raison D’etre

This is a real middle of the night, I can’t sleep, kind of conversation.

Its 4am. For reasons I won’t delve into right now, we don’t have power. Nothing to do with a mal-performing / run-by-idiots power utility. Although it must be said, someone fiddled with the solar power settings, so maybe, run-by-idiots is not limited to government run institutions.

Oh, do I detect some biting cynicism so early in this morning?

It must be the true me, which nicely loops back to what kept me from falling back into a comfortable slumber. What is the reason for existence. Not in a hypothetical sense of the universe, but very much down to self-centred all about me. What drives me?

Just over 2 years ago I started this blog. The Great Reset of 2020. Following a period of global self-reflection, with dolphins (allegedly) prancing through the (at that point, surprisingly clean) submerged and abandoned streets of Venice, the whole world was taking a moment to reflect on how nice our environment can be if we stop abusing it.

Why are we abusing our world if it can be such a nice place? Do we really need to have legislation to make us behave in a responsible manner towards our fellow man and generations to follow?

For a change, I went straight for the essence of my internal debate this morning, and now I have run out of words. This piece of writing will probably change shape this morning still because I am not yet sleepy, and its still a long way till sunrise.

Coming back to the Raison d’etre. Usually, at this point I would look for a nice practical Wikipedia definition of the term. Party to elucidate the term for some of my readers (who might not yet be followers 😊 ), but mostly to ensure I have spelled it correctly. 😊 . But having no power, the internet is down, so you are left with my “more or less on track” ramblings.

I am driven to add value. There, I’ve said it. In some spheres of my professional life , my role is prescribed by legislation. Which by its very essence contradicts my internal drive. Let me clarify. Just because in a particular scenario my role is prescribed by law, it does not mean I automatically add value. Other than being able to tick a box. So, if that piece of legislation did not exist, would I still have cause to exist in that role? We need to be honest here. Especially at 4:30 in the morning when no one else is around, so you don’t need to impress anyone. I try. By looking at the root cause of why legislation prescribes that role. But more so by looking at the impact I can have on the people around me in that role. If I want to add value, what is it that they value. (In this context, this is a statement, not a question. There is no mistake in my grammar). That is why I enjoy facilitating risk workshops, because I see how participants realise how they are actually already doing risk management, and I see how they connect to their colleagues who face similar issues.

Furthermore, I am grateful for the value I gain from those around me, occasionally expressing in no uncertain terms that gratefulness. At other times my appreciation is expressed subtly by attempting a measure of value in return. Occasionally I try getting away with inserting some humour just because its not necessary to take everything so seriously. Like that time I inserted a tongue-in-cheek Terry Pratchet quote into a formal financial analysis report.

It is less complicated in my personal life. And maybe that is why I love farming even though I am a born and bread city girl. OK, maybe city is a bit of over-reaching. A town girl. The simplicity of the question here is Raison d’etre distilled. Here my role is not prescribed by law. Here my role is temporary caretaker. I have a piece of land, and a few animals for whom I need to care. If they don’t have water, they will die. Taking it up a notch on Maslow’s hierarchy of basic needs, I want them to be well fed and happy. So I need to provide a little more nourishment than merely access to grass. And occasionally I need to remove pests and administer reviving medicine.

The same applies to the vegetable garden. Applying “please go away and eat something else” pesticides, rather than destroying a bug’s own right to existence through poisonous pesticides.

And in return? I enjoy a fresh garden herb salad along with a delicious free range meat dish of the day.

While this may come across as righteous virtue, it comes down to the distilled essence at my very core : I enjoy it. Whether prescribed by law, or a most basic life necessity. By giving value, I get value.

Independent observations of life force given dynamic weather changes

AKA, look at how pretty spring has dressed herself.

Everyone in the neighbourhood (relatively speaking) agrees (whole heartedly). Spring bounded upon us in full force. When I say relative neighbourhood, it is in the true Namibian sense. Our nearest neighbours are 6km away (as the crow flies) and that is actually quite close. On average, farmsteads can easily be 30km apart. Statistically speaking, Namibia has 1 person occupying every 2,5 square kilometres. Imagine the peace and tranquillity on any given day of the week. Yes, I am in the hospitality trade, and yes, we long to have our foreign friends visit us again.

Back to the observations, interspersed with photographic evidence.

There are more baby Gemsbuck than before, and much earlier than before.

In a matter of one week, the trees, who had shed all semblance of life at the previous overnight frost a mere month ago, put on their most cheerful display of blossom bouquets, even if they did not have any greenery yet.

And by the next week, the juices of life worked their magic on the budding green leaves, and the trees are making the landscape perk up in a rapidly increasing verdant colour scale.

Taking a walk through the veld, or even just standing on the stoep in the balmy glow of a fiery sunset, one can almost feel the sweet aroma of the veld. A veritable honeybee heaven.

In a matter of hours, after unwrapping the lemon tree from its protective winter pyjamas, its branches and leaves were outstretched to maximum full lung capacity.

The goats have done their kidding thing, and the joyful bleating and rock/tree climbing activity brings even more life to the veld. The sheep have lambed, the cattle moms are bringing their calves out to show. The chickens have kicked up production a notch and a half. It an abundance of life.

I took advantage of the clearly plant life affirming conditions and christened my new raised vegetable beds with all manner of vegetables. Not even one week, and the spinach was peeking out. Another week, and you can’t keep the good beans down.

I have learnt some lessons this winter. Come hell or ~~high~~ freezing water, just get through it. Even if it looks like all is lost, come those first friendly vitamin D rays, things will look up.

Basil come to life

An equally important lesson: Preserve some of the abundance of summer. Therefor I shall get busy in the kitchen, and you can look forward to a range of pesto’s (the wild rocket is especially peppery), pickled brinjals/eggs/pumpkin/etc, chamomile tea, etc. But not before we have had the first freshly harvested goodness from the earth, in about 2 months’ time. I dont quite have the knack for feta cheese, at least not consistently, but if you are a willing guinea pig….

Friends, family, and followers, stop, stick your head out the window, and smell the joys of summer.

I kid you not, goat is a universal language

OK, my puns are a bit rusty. That is what will happen when you no longer write regularly. Having not done this in a while, I chose to start with a heading, and now need to take it somewhere.

SO, I guess I will head in the direction of my goat herd.

Its near the end of the cold dry winter we have in these parts, and there are green shoots appearing everywhere. I wish the green shoots of a shot economy were as tangible.

Just over 2 years ago, for my nth birthday, I got a goat. Yes, you read right. In mathematics N being a symbol for natural numbers. In real life N being a number, I do not particularly want to say out loud. And yes, it was a goat, for my birthday.

Anyway, not long after Kruispad Cecil arrived, along with “his papers” I realised that a lone male goat is a plaintive thing. Nagging about being lonely. So shortly thereafter, we bought him a lady friend. De Mille.

Now, if you are well read, you will start to recognise the combination of names. Or, if you are a follower of my blog, you would have seen the hints before. Failing which, if you are persistent, I will share that with you after a few more lines of prose. (Says she with a mouth filled with hot potato).

Cecil and De Mille were a hot item, and so we were confident that if we introduced another 20 ewes, their relationship could withstand the competition. It did, she remained ewe number 1.

That was two and a half years ago. Today we have one additional ram, Curt, one swop ram Coetzee and I just learned, 29 little kids We are at 160 units of livestock, not counting the young rams we sold over the last two years.

I would be as bold to say my goat farming is doing well.

Those are the facts of this scenario. Now its onto the vibe of goating. They are soo cute! In anyone’s language. Most notably my Chicago dwelling niece & nephew, who engaged with the other kids as if they had known them forever. Just like kids do everywhere.

The character of goats, explained visually:

And they are fast

Speedy Gonzales

Before I forget – Cecil Blount DeMille was an American film director, producer & actor. Not of an era that I would be directly familiar with, but that is the way pop culture works. Osmosis. Somehow you absorb your surroundings, which nicely brings me back to my topic. Surrounding oneself with life and joy. Looking forward to seeing you soon.

The Big Stain, the encouraging story of a novice

I cannot recall when last a posted a blog. But I can check…It was 20 Feb, which tomorrow, will be 2 months ago. (Wait till I start on string theory, to confabulate the concept of time and dimensions ). It is a far cry from what I had pictured in my mind, when I started my blog 2 years ago, with 2 posts a week.

Talking about expectations and the like, you may have seen my post a few days ago, indicating that I would post how to stain, or how NOT to stain a cement floor, depending on the success rate of this Easter Weekend project.

It is time for the big reveal, and yes, you can assume a sense of excitement and delight. Silver lining and all, even when the project does not turn out how I expected, I love the unexpected. I call it Talita’s chaos theory. Even in chaos, there is a sense of wonder, wondering whether you will get out of this in one piece (for the pessimist) or wondering what adventure awaits at the next turn of events (for the eternal optimist).

The colour was blue. In theory. (Link not mine, but it is a beautiful blue finish)

https://th.bing.com/th/id/R.fa52992fac7c43acca30f720978b733c?rik=8UWBsl%2bdl%2b7%2bTQ&pid=ImgRaw&r=0

In practise: We live in the beautiful red Kalahari sand. Red sand + cement + blue stain = green effect.

Even better, because now the stoep blends in with the surrounding abundant grass. Namibians especially appreciate the transient nature of green grass, so it is especially serene to have the inside blend with the outside. For the rest of the year, it is pretty much dry savanna (if you are lucky) or red Kalahari sand dunes.

Enough of the ethereal wafting. Down to practical basics.

This blog will fill a gap in the world wide web. Nowhere could I find an example how to stain with my product, making patterns or abstract art. There are some advanced examples of epoxy floors made to look like aerial views of Sunkissed beach sand and cool crashing waves. Or lava streams flowing down mountain tops. I think you get the picture I had in my mind.

So there is a reason those posts are with epoxy, and not with cement stain. Cement stain is not predictable. It depends on the colour of your sand, the porosity of your cement, the degree of trowling a smooth finish, the moisture in the air and in the cement floor, and so on. Best I can determine from my experiment of 1, is that you can choose a “Nguni type” finish, or a more evenly spread mottled look.

Nguni is a native cattle brand. Very sought after for their dappled white/brown/black hides.

Baby cow as at August 2021 vs same, but now, Lady cow as at April 2022

The area I had to cover was 117m2.

I had 3 x 5 litter containers of stain. Following instruction to the letter, I first put masking tape on the edges of the floor. Even my friends know I am not a very neat person, so taking that extra precaution is worth the investment unless you like the stain to creep up the walls.

I then applied the stain with a roller brush (short hair), and had a separate small container handy, with which I wanted to create “islands of blue ocean”. I would pour on some stain (the more stain, the more intense the colour), and direct it into shapes by gloved hand. Gloves are important, that is pretty obvious at this stage. The cement drank in the colour, so I was not very convinced whether this was going to work. But, once I start a project, there is no way but forward, so forward I went.

Leave to dry for 24 hours. Sweep it up, (the stain has by now dried to a powder), then wipe with a sacrificial squeegee so as to not wet the floor again.

Phase 2 commences

Then the 2-part sealer, consisting of a ~~polyeurothane~~ ~~Polyurothrane~~ polysomething mix and an activator. Mark your mixing vessel to indicate 4 parts poly, and then another mark for 1 part activator. It is essential not to mix the two tins in their entirety, because pot life is stated at 45- 60 minutes, but you will soon see whether it is more like 30 minutes before the mix becomes a mess of silicone bits stuck to your floor. We recycled the stain container, and clearly marked the one cup level, and +4 cup level to make mixing easier. Using tongue depressors, (or ice cream sticks?) as mixing tool works well.

I had 4 sets of 4+1 litres, but 3 was enough to cover the entire 117 sqm twice.

Having Johannes on standby to cut the corners (in this case, it was not about cheating, it was to apply sealer in the corners which is impossible with a roller brush), and to mix another vessel of 4:1, was a life saver.

Roll one direction for layer one, wait 24 hours, and roll at 90 degrees for layer two.

Sealing process – Sorry – my IT abilities do not reach to rotating videos!

End of story.

PS – do not forget to remove the masking tape as you progress with cutting corners on layer two. Failing which you will have a gel – sealer – crack disaster.

PPS – most important – clean your equipment thoroughly in between sealing layers. The Polysomething mix is touch dry within 30 minutes, but, if you mix the next batch (even 24 hours later), you end up with silicone consistency flecks of semi-dried sealer in your next layer, and that aint pretty!

I think for the next experiment, I would consider using a spray pump to get a more even mottled effect, but then you must tape plastic halfway up the walls.

It looks a little like a google satellite map of our region. The very definition of semi-arid country.

In any event, I hope you find this post useful. Do not be mistaken, a blank canvas is daunting, but when that first stroke hits the cement, push on through, and accept the surprise the universe throws your way.

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Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

It is the first time I start a blog with no idea where to start, never mind where it was going. You won’t know this, but by the time you hit the second paragraph, I had already rewritten the 2^nd para a few times, and have rearranged the two paragraphs. Yes, it is possible to rearrange two.

It’s been a tough, but good, corporate week. However, it was now weekend, and I wanted nothing more than “work the cattle”.

I’m no Dapper, but this is a pretty picture

So, I guess this blog will be for your lazy Sunday afternoon entertainment, if you had ever wondered about cattle farming.

Our cattle farming started 2,5 years ago, a few months after we bought the farm. We bought tollies, which are neutered young bulls, and our plan was to host them until they gained some T-bone structure.

It is important that I tell you it was a few months after we bought the farm, because then you will appreciate when we say that a couple of months later, upon shipping the tollies out again, we discovered we had 2 young cows amongst the tollies. Never mind, it was in my mind to become more self-sustainable, and farm with cow and calves. So, we dispatched Daisy and Mable to our neighbours to sow their wild seeds.

Daisy came back “with young” but Mable was perhaps a little prudish.

Earlier last year, Daisy gave birth to Valentino. Can you guess his birth date? .

We could not understand why Valentino was not picking up weight, until we discovered Mable was supping on Daisy – hence her nickname “Milk Thief”.

It was around this time that we decided even if both cows had come back pregnant, and had they been two heifers, it would take, say 99 years for us to build up a herd.

So, we procured another 38 cows. And one handsome young gun. Unfortunately, a bit too young to take a stance with the ladies.

We asked around, and would you believe the nice neighbourliness we have here; a friendly fellow farmer proffered his bull to chaperone the ladies.

It was quite cute when we brought the bull over. The minute he stepped through the gate, young Mable, who had been lazing in the lush green ground cover, stood up with a “well hello there” stance, and sauntered sexily over to bull number 18. He was her first, and she produced our first.

It is now one year later, and the cows are “producing” left right and centre as the colloquial saying goes.

It is still a small herd, and we had very good rains last year, so our (or rather, the cattle’s fodder) is more than we need, so we had the opportunity to diversify our income streams, and we are renting out two camps to another herd.

It was that herd we had to work this weekend. It was relatively easy, but essential work. Here comes the technical part of the blog.

You need to treat the heifers before they reach 8 months, with Brucella which protects them against abortion later in life. And once a year, treat all cattle, in fact all animals, with a general all round vaccination, which in this case was MultivaxP.

That syringe is the reason I always look the other way when I donate blood. But, if you know where, (in the hollow below the shoulder blade) and you can move fast before the cattle pin your arm in the manga, it is done very quickly.

We don’t have a prodder, and in a way I prefer that, because I think a carrot works better than a stick. Having said that, the cattle don’t necessarily understand what treats wait for them on the other side of the “head scissors” so it takes some coaxing with a rubber pipe across the rump to get them moving. Trust me, the pipe makes more noise than it makes pain, and the cattle do understand the instruction then.

Let me clarify, a head scissor is not a euphemism for removing the brain from the body, it is actually a clamp type structure, which keeps the animal more or less still while you administer the eye drops, or other necessary treatment.

One last task was to document the unique tag numbers of each animal, for control purposes. Not only for ourself, but also for the meatboard who issue all tag numbers. Have you tried reading a moving 8 digit target? Not such a simple job after all.

The treat on the other side, in this case, was a refreshing shower, with “eue de anti tick” aroma. Administered with the fire fighter. I can see one wild rave party theme happening here.

And that was that. A most relaxing weekend:

When you do what you love, it’s not work.

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If there was no legal requirement, would you still do it?

Like this:

Independent observations of life force given dynamic weather changes

Like this:

I kid you not, goat is a universal language

Like this:

The Big Stain, the encouraging story of a novice

Thank you for your response. ✨

Like this:

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

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