Our local Show is only a couple of weeks away. Officially it’s known as the Wallamba District Agricultural and Horticultural Show, a bit of a mouthful, so let’s just stick with ‘The Show’.
There’s talk around town about who’s entering what. You can sense the competitiveness starting to simmer.
Amongst my friends, we’re agreed that it makes the day more enjoyable if you have items entered. We’re not necessarily in it to win it, but I have to say it’s quite a thrill seeing a blue show ribbon on one of your entries when you wander through the Produce Shed or through the exhibits in the main hall.
I’ve been disappointed by our ‘orchard’. I use the word loosely (hence the inverted commas), because when you talk of an orchard, one imagines rows of healthy, lush, shade-providing trees heavy with fruit. The reality of ours is a few rows of struggling, often sad-looking trees spending all their energy fighting off the wallabies, rabbits, bandicoots, and now chickens. ‘Give us a break’, they seem to be saying. We’ve tried. Plastic bottles, sliced up the side and wrapped around the trucks of some of the trees, wire guards surrounding others. The Orchard Rescue Plan is a frequent dinner-time conversation at the moment.
Even the mulberry tree was near destroyed by Dudley the goat. He ripped off and ate half of it before I could get to him. I ran, yelling, scolding, cursing, to no effect. I dragged him back to his paddock while he continued to happily munch on a branch. The mulberry tree has never been the same since. Continue reading →