More on Doug

After a difficult week nursing my crook back and unbelievable humidity, I can say my recovery is underway. I spent Saturday moving everything out of the tool shed, cleaning it, and moving in the honey extractor and tanks and setting up. Sunday was kind; a perfect, still, sunny day for me to take some honey from the bees and do the extracting thing. None too soon I might add. Some of the honey was already candying on the outside of the combs. It would have been gathered earlier and placed around what would have been brood in the middle of the combs in spring. The fresher honey gathered more recently and placed by the bees where the brood was before, was liquid.

I would guess that about 15% of the honey was left candied in the combs, but at least I have some stickies to put back on the hives for hopefully another fill. There's still another full box on each hive so I have more to do before I can feel too pleased with myself. And of course I have yet to strain, settle and bottle the honey extracted yesterday. The back stood up well to the heavy work. I worked slowly and carefully to avoid further damage.

Of inspiration to me while doing this solo work, was my fond memory of Doug Twaits whom I mentioned in my last post. The extractor I use, and indeed the ancestors of my bees, were Doug's. I first met Doug at a Nobelius Heritage Park annual family picnic day. Gus Ryberg had organized us to supervise the car parking. Gus and Doug had a friendship going back some forty years, having worked together as nurserymen in the early 1950's.

On our car parking duty Doug told me he started a garden on a twelve acre property above the country club soon after he married. He planted many young trees; oak, beech, sequoia, fir, Camellias and others before moving away shortly after. The property stayed in his wife's family and she inherited it at some point I think, if she didn't own it all along. Doug and his wife moved back to Emerald some 35 years after leaving. Doug's wife had cancer and she died soon after. Doug remarried and stayed in Emerald to enjoy and maintain the now mature garden. At this first meeting he gave me his phone number and invited me to ring him and see the garden some time which I did a month or two later.

We toured the garden, I was amazed at the growth of the trees over forty years. The top garden was orchard and roses and in the middle was a beehive that was neglected and rotting. As we walked past Doug said, "You don't know anything about bees do you?"

I hadn't kept bees for a number of years, having sold them and my equipment, frustrated at not having the time to do it properly. Doug added that he'd wanted to keep bees ever since being a POW in Germany where there was a Scottish sergeant who gave lessons in beekeeping. In the prison camp, according to Doug, were people from all walks of life. The Germans let them run educational classes so in the years he was there there were a great many opportunities to learn in subjects that you would have no exposure to in normal life. He'd bought the hive when he moved back to Emerald but had opened it only once or twice before ill health in the form of three heart attacks afflicted him. He had new beehive material and brand new extracting equipment in the shed, never used, but said he'd now lost his confidence to tackle replacing the bees into new material.

So I helped him. We enjoyed building up the hive numbers and producing honey over a few years. By then there was a fair bit of blackberry taking hold around the orchard and so that Doug could clean up properly I moved the bees to my place, temporarily was the intention. They were there for a year or two, I think Doug was pleased to be able to mow through his orchard with the ride on. He sold his property at age 86 looking for less workload, and would have moved to Lakes Entrance in a matter of weeks had he not been killed. Doug's wife Lyn gifted the bees and equipment to me.

Doug was a remarkable man. He loved nature. He gave up pig farming because he loved his pigs and hated selling them for slaughter. He did youth work in regional Victoria. He used his wrestling skills and knowledge of physical fitness to help troubled adolescents, as he had with his inmates in the POW camp. Managing the goldmine in New Guinea he had extraordinary success by ensuring the native workers had good diet and rest. Previous managers had mistreated them with the result that illness and lack of motivation by the workers was a constant problem. As well as a champion wrestler Doug was an all round athlete, winning a major bike race in the 1930's and was an accomplished competitive swimmer. These were popular sports in the 1930's. Later in his working life he established a big nursery out Essendon way and with a mate was the first to do the gardening shows on Melbourne radio on Saturday mornings. He was articulate and intelligent.

Doug was compassionate to the underdog. It was his gentle caring nature that endeared him to people. He was a great friend. He loved a beer and a yarn at the end of the day. My memory of him could not but give me inspiration. In Gus Ryberg's book the Four W's, at Gus's request, Doug gave an account of his wartime experience. Without checking for detail, as I recall his battalion on Crete fought a rear guard against a German army with far superior air support. They ran out of ammunition and were stranded as the British evacuated by ship. This after the Nth. African campaign, a battle in Greece in which Hitler's crack paratroops were decimated, and surviving the sinking of their ship by a fighter bomber. He nearly died of dysentery and exposure on the train trip to Germany in cattle trucks in freezing conditions with no ablutions. He eventually escaped the Stalag toward the end of the war and made his own way to England hitching a ride with an American pilot.

He survived all of that to be claimed on Wellington Road at the Berwick turnoff after what must have been an error of judgment on his part.

A Good Year For Hydrangeas

Dave Suters' Hydie

Doug Twaits' Hydies

The plentiful rain this last spring and early summer has revitalized our hydrangeas. Those in the lower photo were struck for me by my friend Doug Twaits, I would say about fifteen years ago, maybe more. He took some hardwood cuttings in winter and planted them in a row in his vegie garden then dug them up and gave them to me in the spring. I Potted them and later planted them in semi shade under our eucalyptus and they did very well for a few years as I manured, pruned and watered them.

Along came our prolonged drought and after several years of struggle to keep the water up it all became too difficult. Water restrictions meant I was limited to a small water tank on the shed so I let them go. As conditions get drier the eucies get more voracious, massing roots wherever you water, and I was wasting my time, particularly as the hydies did not produce a financial return to speak of. Amazingly most survived the most extreme conditions and neglect although some died and others are stunted as they hardly had energy to return.

But hey presto as the photo shows we have a show this year. Robbie weeded them. They were full of wire grass and blackberry and the pokers were taking over. If there's a heaven Doug would have made the cut I reckon and if those in heaven can see back here I'm sure Doug would be pleased as punch. Doug died in a car accident in 2002 I think, aged 86. He was an Australian champion wrestler in the late1930'sand missed Olympic selection as the 1940 games were cancelled. He was captured on Crete by the Germans and spent the rest of the war in Stalag 83 in Germany. He had an interesting life post war including learning the building trade and building houses for the country club estate in Emerald, pig farmer, nurseryman, gold mine manager in New Guinea, nurseryman again, and naturalist bird expert writing for the Trader in his retirement. We kept bees togther at his place for a few years before he died.

The other hydie, top photo, we bought at a fete in Eaglehawk about twenty years ago. We went to a fair at which our friend Dave Suters, whom I visited in Albury on Boxing Day, was playing and marching in his Bendigo Pipe Band. We have always called it Dave's Hydrangea. It too has struggled through the drought but has the advantage of being more in a garden than bush setting.

My friend Grace Delarue offered me a big old Hydie last winter. I'd picked flowers from it for years, it's a particularly good one. Her gardener Glen Binstead dug around it and we put a rope round the base and pulled it out with his Ford station wagon. It has done well with all the rain and I took numerous cuttings and planted them strategically on the other side of our house, the west side but where they get some tree shade. Most of them have grown but I've had to water them through a few dry weeks which isn't too bad as we have water tanks now that have been full nearly all this summer. It rained over 20ml this afternoon again topping them up.

On a not so happy note, I hurt my back on Jan 4 the day after my last post. I was cutting long grass in our steep paddock with a brushcutter when I stepped backwards into a wombat hole giving my back severe jarring. That night it went WHANG as I got out of the lounge chair and the next day it was all downhill till I was virtually unable to walk, with agonizing spasms. Six days later I resumed my morning walk with great discomfort, this morning, and I'm still in quite a bit of pain with the back locking up on me intermittently with the accompanying spasm agony. Needless to say I haven't been able to work, exascerbating my predicament. I should have extracted honey last weekend but no way could I and I'm praying I'll be able to next weekend. The honey on the bees is ground flora which candies quickly, and if it candies in the combs before I extract well it's good night nurse for this year as it won't come out and I have no more combs for any more honey which may be coming as there's a bit of messmate blossom starting.

A crook back is a disaster in my particular circumstances. I have a lot of beech to pick for orders tomorrow. Jod has covered for me this last week, picking all the easier stuff. I'm hoping to have made a miraculous recovery by tomorrow. Jod can't pick the higher harder stuff, that has always been my task. It's not an easy life for self employed farmer/gardeners. I think of my retired in laws with their first div tattslotto sized super payouts with some mirth, particularly when I hear them whingeing about this or that, but it does not help me and I don't want the tone of this blog to descend into miserable self pity so shut up Carey and go to bed. Goodnight.

PS. I'm enjoying War and Peace although I'm only up to about page 400 of 1400.

Let's Have a Good One

Young Scott came two days before Xmas and took out the Cedar Wattle. He and his mate were superb. When I left for the second time at 2.30pm, they were still at it, after arriving at 7.15am. Not a shrub underneath was damaged, which showed the care they'd taken. I have no hesitation in recommending them. (Scott Purton, Green Care Tree Service, 0407 099 249)

We left for Wangaratta about noon on Christmas Day. I was so looking forward to driving over the Bonnie Doon bridge and seeing water below in Eildon Weir which had filled to 75% capacity. Alas we were detoured at Yarck because of a fatal accident in the morning, going via Euroa instead.

I had some consolation on Boxing Day. I met my old mate Dave Suters at the Hume Weir which is 100% full. I hadn't seen Dave for 15 years or thereabouts. We met at the appointed place, and each thought the other was late when in fact we'd walked past and looked at each other a couple of times without realizing we were us. Such is the cruelty of aging. We both were looking for a younger man. It wasn't until Dave's wife Pam arrived and looked at me that the penny dropped for us at the same time. It was great to see them.We had lunch at an Albury club. I met Dave at the Qld Ag College in 1974. We became close friends, our contact dropping off only in recent years. It's satisfying this has been corrected.

I was on my own having left Lib and the boys with Molly and Lib's sister's family as I was absorbed by nostalgia on the drive south back to Wang. I visited the Wang cemetery to give my respects to Kel, who died late in 2008. Two other team mates from the Greta Football team of 1980 are also there. 'Brains' was killed in a car accident in 1983 and ditto 'Swampy' in 1988. It took me a long time to find their graves and also Fred Sargent's and Lib's dad Bill's plaque.

I came across someone I can't recall thinking of for over 30 years. When I first moved to Wang in 1976, I rented a flat in Oven's St. It was a house divided into two flats, the other flat occupied by an attractive young girl by the name of Karen. We shared a clothesline in the back yard but I rarely saw her to talk to. She had a tumultuous relationship with a boyfriend who called regularly. Between the flats at one point there was a non opening door separating the two, I could hear their noisy lovemaking, arguments, and often yell and scream, bang and crash fighting. It was a bit of a worry but I must admit it was entertaining. I can't remember the details but I did have a minor altercation one time with the boyfriend which was verbal involving no fisticuffs, but violence was threatened which I took pains to avoid while at the same time not backing down.

I had to leave that flat. The motel that owned the building changed hands and the new owners wanted it for their relatives. A couple of years later after a couple moves I was in a flat in Green St. near the hospital, in a block of about a dozen flats, mine being one from the rear end on the second floor. One night I was comfortably minding my business when there was a frantic banging on my door, accompanied by a woman's voice yelling for help. She was almost hysterical when I opened the door, gibbering that a man was threatening to kill her girlfriend and was cutting up all her clothing.

I think I told her to use my phone to ring the police and went to the flat full of nervous apprehension but acting on adrenalin. I barged in and was in his face in the bedroom in a flash with as much authority and bluster that I could manage. It was the girl Karen's flat and the enraged bloke ransacking it was the same boyfriend of two years previous. He looked at me with surprise he was being confronted, briefly arguing absurdly, but thankfully ceased his activity and went to the door with me right on his hammer telling him the police would be arriving shortly. Once outside on his way down the stairs he turned and abused me saying he'd get me.

I moved to a farmhouse at Moyhu shortly after. Over the next couple of years when playing football for Greta he was in the opposition Nth Wangaratta team when we played them. He showed me no recognition let alone aggression or attempt to 'get me'. There I was on Boxing Day paying a visit to my old footy mates and there he was, right in front of me, on a headstone. It bore his name of course and had a photo of him. Born 1956, died 2007, husband of Karen and father to four daughters. Who knows what happened between 1978 and 2007, besides the bald facts on the headstone. I don't like to jump to conclusions but age 51 is an early death and leaves me wondering.  I suppose his and Karen's life together had its share of joy and pain, as does everyone's. I'm tempted to find Karen who is probably still in Wang and easily findable, but no I'll let it rest.

Best wishes to my friends for 2011. After a few days at Lakes Entrance I'm back well rested and ready for a year of challenge and achievement. There's much to do.