Having bought the farm in 2004, we first of all made the house liveable. Once the most glaring dilapidation had been addressed in the farmhouse, we tackled obstacles lying further afield.

Near the house and bordering the access dirt road to the main dwelling, were numerous sagging fences with broken droppers and wires that needed urgent repair.

The stony farm trails were overgrown by thorn trees that scarred any passer-by. Often, live tall trees had been used as fencing posts: steel wires eating mercilessly into tree trunks and disfiguring them grotesquely.

So, the transformation had to begin: Bowsaws, crowbars, wheelbarrows, a cement mixer and much more had to be obtained and put to work. Sagging access gates to several camps were levelled, trees and encroaching bush were either felled or cut to open existing trails, and new trails (once obscured) were discovered. The ringing of sledgehammers on steel stakes to create holes for new fence posts was heard daily. Extra men were hired to clear encroacher bush along perimeter fences.

Then one morning the old 1965 Massey Ferguson tractor bluntly refused to raise its three-point hitch. A nauseating, sinking feeling of despair grew in the pit of my stomach. In my mind’s eye I could see more money disappearing into a dark hole, a greedy pit. There was no close friend or knowledgeable mentor to give guidance. There was only one alternative: solve the problem or die trying!

At that stage I had only one worker, but fortunately he was one of a rare breed: he was smart and had already proven his ability. So we dismantled the seat and removed the heavy cover plate underneath to access the intricate array of gears and levers surrounded by thick black oil in the belly of the tractor. Most of the oil could be scooped out, but we still felt lost. For two days we struggled and then, voilà!, a small missing part had mysteriously dislodged itself in the remaining oil. It took some time to figure out how and where to fit this small part but luckily fortune smiles on the brave and we were successful. When we started the engine and engaged the hitch, it rose immediately. Joy unspeakable!

Next, we had to pay attention to the cattle crush (manga) at the cattle pen (kraal). The head gate, I discovered, was not attached to the cattle crush and had to be welded into position for safety and stability. In addition, we made an opening in the side of the manga to fit a small metal door to make it easier to brand our cattle on the rump, as prescribed by law.

And then came the day one of the windmills decided it needed some TLC too. But that is a story for later.


Nickey van Zyl