The Farmer is, as I have said many times before, an unassuming chap. He works his two paid gigs with purpose, dedication and not a little pride, surrounds himself with the stuff and folk he loves, and gently sidesteps the things he doesn’t want in his life; he’s not one for placard waving, soapbox pontification and We-Shall-Not-Be-Moved. He’s funny, irreverent, a wind up merchant (just ask Farm Girl), unshakeable in morals, unbeatable in bread-eating…

and this week, he became another year older.

As you all know, we like to make a bit of a song and dance about Homesteader’s birthdays which is where this whole unassuming thing becomes a little irksome. While the rest of us are geared up for lots of cake and a celebratory dinner (at the very least), he’s all pondering and calm, whatever and no-big-deal. It’s infuriating! We finally got him to set aside an evening both he and The Princess were available (Annual Leave? I don’t think so!) for a family meal out, but then we had to get him to decide where. His newly discovered love of quesadillas finally had him choosing Mexicali – but only for the main course. Churros are one of those things he gently sidesteps and, for The Farmer, dessert means ice cream and chocolate – and that means another trip to Rollickin’ Gelato.

Unassuming maybe, but lots of fun.

The Bean Counter doesn’t let the celebrant’s ambivalence alter his tradition, started when The Resident Engineer was a babe-in-arms, of taking each Homesteader’s birthday off his paid employment. In fact, what started as simply the birth DAY has now stretched into a week of sleep ins for him and job sharing for me.

My dodgy back may have put paid to a few jobs on his list – putting up fencing rails, for example – but we still managed to tick a few projects off the list, including a couple of our favourite sort. We’re talking remake-remodel-reuse.

The self-filling chicken waterer has put a stop to feisty chasing games upending the beverage dispensers while my back is turned and the sheep are appreciating their hay staying dry thanks to the peaked roof of the animal shelter that was just too tall, too small, too heavy, and not to any of the Homestead menagerie’s liking.

Nothing quite beats the joy having made something useful out of nothing and, not being as quietly laidback as some, we’re shouting about it.