We’ve named the property Tabula Rasa — clean slate — which felt right for both of us. We’ve each had our own farming journeys and now we’re building something together from scratch. The land is a lot flatter than Tasmania — which after years of nearly vertical paddocks is either a blessing or slightly boring depending on the day. There’s a big dam that’s roughly five times the size of the house, a smaller dam that spent a few nervous months nearly empty before the rain finally came good, and a seasonal creek down the back that’s apparently deep enough to swim in once you get enough rainfall. I haven’t tested that yet.
The grass is different up here too. It doesn’t have that same lush green that Tassie spoiled me with — you have to work a lot harder for it. The horses help manage it, which is handy given there are so many of them.
130 acres is a huge amount of space compared to what either of us have experienced before. But since Mrs. Farm breeds horses, we needed the space. The horses also needed the space, as the grass up here isn’t as good as down south so they need more room for the same amount of food. So where 60 acres was enough for 52 horses in Gippsland, Victoria, We can really only handle a dozen or so up here on double the land.
Speaking of which — the horses. There’s Annie, a beautiful Gypsy Cob. Cloud *also Gypsy Cob), who will lean her entire body weight into you if you scratch her belly in the right spot. Ruby, a retired thoroughbred racehorse who, by all accounts, was not particularly successful at racing but is excellent at being lovely. Then there’s Pesto, the minis, and a few others who are mostly too busy eating to bother introducing themselves. Polly I’ve been specifically advised to keep my distance from. I’ve respected that advice. We will introduce everyone as we go.
Then there are the sheep. Frosty has been with Mrs. Farm for years — she’s eight now, a bit lazy, feet a little sore, and absolutely living her best life. Toro and Victor are newer additions. We named them after lawnmowers, which felt clever at the time. They have since eaten most of the rose garden. Just sticks now.
Four dogs round out the crew — Pancake, Cooper, Rowan, and Finn. Three dachshunds and a Jack Russell. Rowan in particular has yet to grasp that the brown snakes, red bellies, and death adders we keep finding around the property are not friends. We’re working on that.
It’s a big, beautiful, slightly overwhelming blank slate — and I can’t wait to show you what we’re building here.
