As always, I bumped into lovely, familiar faces in town and struck up a jovial conversation with an endearing, retired farmer I hadn’t seen in a long while (social distancing rule applied of course). He too was buying fuel and we enjoyed a good, old yarn, laughing and teasing as I proceeded to fill my diesel container with ‘unleaded petrol’!
“CRAP!” I shrieked.

Off home I drove again to re-enact my steps, this time without loitering and choosing the correct fuel. “That was a waste of an hour,” I frustratingly mumbled under my breath.

Next on my list was to spray an eyesore of annoying, paddock thistles, which had started rearing their ugly heads. I’d planned to begin this job earlier while the day was still calm. By the time I filled my spray bottle and walked into a paddock neighbouring the road, a light breeze was just beginning to pick up.

It was a beautiful, warm, sunny morning with brilliant, blue skies. Perfect for spraying and I was happy to finally get stuck into it. Around me a symphony of birds were cheerfully singing, while amused kookaburras laughed spasmodically as back- up vocalists. From a distance, our stunning, earth-coloured cattle were curiously supervising my every move as I regularly filled my spray bottle and strolled around among their lush cuisine.

After a while, my hands started to uncomfortably sweat inside my rubber gloves and as the temperature rose, the infamous South Gippsland bush flies slowly, but surely drove me mad. I was sure they’d made a pact to see who could bring me to the brink of insanity first! Often, I frustratingly attempted to whack them, but accidentally smacked myself in the head instead. Next thing I knew, I felt something dart down the back of my singlet top piercingly stinging my shoulder blade!

“#$@&%*!” I squealed.

In an instant the spray bottle and gloves flew in all directions as I attempted to bash my back to comatose the stinging beast. That didn’t do much good as the wretched intruder continued its merciless attack. Off came the singlet top, which I again used to hurriedly slap my back, but still to no avail. By this stage I was dancing around the paddock looking like a dimwit trying to outrun myself, making all sorts of strange, high pitched noises.

This, of course, spooked the cattle, who were now completely dumbfounded and running around the paddock too, uncertain as to what their human was actually trying to achieve. Then, to my horror, I suddenly noticed a distant neighbour driving very slowly, crawling in fact, past our farm, probably wondering what the hell was going on at the Hullick hill billy residence!

I immediately dived for my singlet top, which must have grown legs somewhere along the line, and fumbled it back on – back to front. Didn’t matter. I quickly acted like all was fine.

“No problem here,” I mimed as I gave him a fleeting, neighbourly wave.

“Oh Lord, shoot me now,” I thought, “Surely that didn’t just happen?”

Sun kissed and depleted, I made my way back inside my safe haven to consume a cup of much needed caffeine, which I thoroughly appreciated once I finally discovered the coffee tin hiding in the fridge!

Recounting today I’m still not sure what’s worse. A swollen upper back caused by an anonymous pest, which continues to irritatingly itch, or the lingering embarrassment of the absurd, comical situation I unwillingly found myself in.

Moral of this story?

Some days it’s best just to stay in bed.