We worried that we’d be labelled as lifestylers when we first moved here. We genuinely want to make a fist of it rurally, and we’ve made many mistakes over the last couple of years as you know. The rural community is an incredible thing; we need not have worried. Each week, we turn up to the pub, get a ribbing where it is due, are included in the conversations, and have learned a lot. We have made genuine friends in a community that bends backwards to help and wants nothing in return. Something big city dwellers could learn from. So this one goes out to the Gladstone Pub crew; thanks, having grown up rural, it feels like coming home for us.
Here’s how to become an undercover farmer.
10 - Never clean your car or ute
We can spot a townie a mile away because the car is always clean, and it’s an absolute dead giveaway if it’s a shiny, polished ute. Farmers don’t have the time to wash their vehicles; that’s what happens when it rains. Mud and dust are often caked on for days or months at a time, and because stock like new things, they’ve probably rubbed up against them, leaving the occasional scratch.
As for a further tip, generally, when farmers park at the pub, they back into the park when they arrive and drive straight out when they leave. On the other hand, city-dwellers tend to park head first and then back out later. Please don’t ask me why this happens, but we can pick you out real fast between clean cars and the way you park at the pub.
9 - Learn about cattle
Another dead giveaway is not being able to identify your cattle. Having a pint with the locals, you’ve got the dirty car parked backwards, you look across the road, and you point out a bull and say, “That’s a great looking cow.”
At this point, you’re out. This is the same as pointing at a woman in the bar and saying, “look at that great specimen of a horse.” This is perhaps a bad example, as women in the country can be compared with horses, and this is a compliment unless they are referred to as a “nag.”
Back to cattle.
Bulls are usually uncastrated males two years or older who are not used for meat but breeding purposes. You can tell a bull because it’s a big bastard.
Steers are castrated males that are usually bred for meat.
Cows are heifers (we’ll get to it) that have not had a calf. They can be raised to breed, milk, or as meat.
Heifers are female cattle that have not yet borne calves.
Both male and female cattle are called calves when they are young. Once they have been weaned, they are called weaners. Once they hit one or two, they’re called yearlings.
Got it? Too easy. Make sure you can identify your cattle before starting a conversation about them.
8 - You’re a weatherman now
Or a weatherwoman, if you prefer, or weather-whatever if so inclined, I’d hate to offend you.
You must understand the weather and be conversant in the language of it. You cannot turn up to the pub without being prepared to narrate the preceding week’s weather stories, and you must always, I cannot stress this enough, know exactly how much rain has fallen on your farm, in millimetres.
You will be questioned on this, and the farming community collates all that data each week and then makes predictions about next week’s weather. A polite conversation opener is, “Did you get much of that rain last week?”
Learn how to read a weather map and squint at the sky. Squinting at the sky is a sure sign that weather forecasting is going on. You could also grab a pinch of grass and let it fall to the ground, though that may be going a bit too far.
7 - The road rules are different
In the country, there is no road rage. The only exception to that might be if you called your farmer mate’s wife an “old nag”, there might be cause for him to run you down with his tractor.
In the country, the rules are different; once you turn off the state highway in your dirty car on the way to the pub to talk about heifers and the weather after parking backwards, there are a few things you need to know.
First, the roads are narrow, so George is the only person who drives over 80 kph. I’ve seen George, and he moves considerably faster. You can see him coming because of his battery of massive lights on his ute (you can see him from space at night), and he can be forgiven because he’s a busy man.
Generally, everyone drives slower unless on the way to the pub. Because it’s work, why rush around getting stressed out on narrow roads when you can cruise from job to job? Getting stuck behind a tractor gives you an extra five minutes in your day to relax and take in the terrible state your neighbour’s paddock is in so you can mercilessly taunt him at the pub.
Think about it this way. You work in an office, and you have to move around the office to go to the printer, talk to the boss, get something from the stationery cupboard (how do you people do this all day), and so on. You don’t sprint from place to place, do you? Are you that keen on getting all the jobs done? The only time you’d run would be, you guessed it, to the pub.
For bonus points, as you pass other farmers, don’t wave; that’s far too excessive; just raise your index finger from the top of the steering wheel.
6 - Attire
There are five key ingredients to getting your attire correct to blend in with rural folk. Gumboots (Red Bands), woollen socks, short shorts, and a Swanndri winter or summer top.
Farmers aren’t sexist, so this is perfectly acceptable attire for women.
The only thing that changes between summer and winter is the top. It has long sleeves in winter and short ones in summer. All Swanndri farming attire makes you look as if you weigh 120kgs. Some of us do. Just saying.
This attire is acceptable for the pub but remember to leave muddy boots at the door or enter the smoking area via climbing the fence if you wish to continue wearing them.
If you are going out somewhere special, such as the Buckhorn in Carterton, which do excellent meals, I must say, get dressed up in jeans, cowboy boots, and a collar. Swanndri does some excellent, more formal wear.
5 - General Hygiene
While working on your farm, it is perfectly acceptable for you to take showers every couple of days unless you have been doing something particularly stinky. It is entirely unacceptable to turn up at the pub smelling like a heifer or smelling like Lynx.
Use your judgement.
4 - Work Hours
There is an old saying that farmers work in acres, not hours. This is true. There is no such thing as a workday in farming; there is only work life. The farm will demand you work as much as you require something from it; this can lead to very long hours over consecutive days.
There is no nine to five; there is only dawn till dusk and sometimes through the night. The only downtime farmers have is the pub. This time is sacred, and the entire farm world revolves around this.
Frankly, this is how life is meant to work, rather than being stuck in a battery hen like cage system in an office. There is however the very real danger of burnout and farmers will drop what they are doing to help whenever someone needs an extra pair of hands on the farm, adding to more hours.
3 - Cuisine
Farming cuisine is simple. It’s the correct way to eat and will ensure a long and healthy life; throw out the fancy diet that is just stressing you out. Meat and three vegetables, at least once a day, is all that is required.
Our mate Mark reckons that he can live off mutton chops. I suspect he’s right. You can fry them, grill them, bread them and fry them some more, casserole them, or put them in a boil up. There are so many ways to cook delicious, delicious mutton chops.
Nothing is more satisfying than pulling a cold lamb shoulder chop out of your pocket in the middle of the day, somewhere in a far off paddock, and eating it in front of your sheep.
Another favourite is steak sandwiches. We are lucky enough to get venison from a good friend of ours. Cook a couple of steaks the night before, when you’re cooking your lamb chops, and then put them in the fridge.
When hungry, the next day, take two slices of white bread, soak them in tomato sauce, put the whole venison steak in the middle, and your lunch is done.
2 - Musical Taste
One of the problems with farming is that you end up half deaf. All that machinery over time does tend to wear on your hearing, so in terms of musical taste, my recommendation is that it’s loud and Country.
Modern music will not do; let’s get that clear. If you turn up to the pub in your convertible BMW, nice and clean, playing “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard”, you’re likely to get a burning hale bale thrown through your roof.
When in doubt, 60’s and 70’s rock will suffice.
Another tip is that because farmers are hard of hearing and spend the entire day shouting at each other across paddocks, yelling at stock and dogs, the voice volume is dialled up high. It is perfectly acceptable to speak in booming voices at the pub and other venues.
1 - Optional Additions
You can make a few additions to become the perfect undercover farmer. These are slightly more advanced techniques.
You can buy a pipe, like Mark. Mark has an excellent pipe that only comes out late at night and is used sparingly because pipe tobacco is more expensive than whitebait. It adds a mystique and gentlemanly air to the smoker but only should be deployed late in the evening as is the tradition.
Paste a piece of carpet on the front of your ute, procure a dead deer, and strap it down. This shows you have been hunting, and fun fact, the reason that utes in the country have carpet on their bonnet is to stop the carcass from slipping off. Plus, getting an entire deer in the ute is hard work (trust me, I know), and you can proudly drive around town showing it off for a bit before you take it to the butcher.
Learn about cattle condition. If you can identify the type of cattle, breed, and condition score, you are in for many long conversations at the pub.
Summary - Putting it all together
Now you have all the knowledge you need to leave the city and become an Undercover Farmer. It’s time you put it all together.
Leave your farm block and travel at low speed to the pub. Never mind the city folk behind you suffering road rage at your pace; that’s just music to your ears. Make sure that as you pass other farmers, you raise your index finger (make sure you get the correct finger; otherwise, you’ll be in trouble, it’s not your middle finger) to give them a nod.
Roll into the pub carpark in your dirty ute, optional deer strapped on the front, blaring John Rowles, and make sure you reverse into the park. Step out of the ute in your Red Bands, shorts, and Swanndri. Shout greetings at the top of your voice as you see the whole gang and leave your boots at the door.
Get a real beer: Export or Tui. In a plastic jug with a little glass, then wander in your woollen socks to join the crowd.
Immediately start talking about how much it rained over the week and where, make wild predictions about next week’s weather, talk about your stock’s condition if it comes up, and enjoy the banter.
At some point during the night, either procure from the bar mutton chops with potato and gravy or, if you were thinking in advance, eat the cold chop that you have in your top pocket.
As the night progresses, carefully extract your pipe, fill it with tobacco (commenting on how expensive it is), tamp it down, puff to achieve optimum temperature and casually hang off a bar leaner.
Repeat until necessary to destress, connect, and make some bloody good friends who give you damn good advice. Listen, learn, contribute, and breathe.
Postscript: Apologies for the long delay in the articles. It’s been a mad couple of weeks. When you are busy, inspiration can be hard to find. I promise more soon, including Gisborne Part II. Please share this if you like it.