Despite our failures to grow our wool and chestnut enterprises, we couldn’t satisfy the demand for our berry fruits and it was a nice little earner. The problem was that growing, picking and selling berries was really demanding hard work, unlike growing wool which is a doddle. We had to expand our tiny plot. This was forced on us after an overseas holiday when we spent all the jam proceeds.
We arrived back to a mess. Our canes, nicely ready to bear next season’s crop, had been felled to 15 cm high and wouldn’t be yielding anything. Whatever felled them had a very sharp pair of secateurs and always cut at a 60 degree angle. The young hazelnut trees and sprouting quince trees were pruned similarly. I didn’t know anyone who would have worked so hard.
Then it became clear, the chicken wire fence around the orchard had been broached. A wombat had excavated a large hole from outside to inside and the rabbits had used it for their evil purposes. I had been confused by the large number of pied currawongs inside the enclosure that was netted above as well as fenced, particularly as I couldn’t find any holes in the net. They too were strutting down the wombat hole and up into the enclosure.
As well as being cowardly and sneaky and therefore un-Australian, currawongs are really smart.
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