The Potato Project
SPUD McFee a farmer bloke and Chippy-Jones McClease,
From way up north to Brayton came – their income to increase.
T’was on the Wollindilly’s bank they bought themselves a paddock,
And tractors big to till the soil, beats digging with a mattock.
Up shot a good potato crop the talk of it was fine,
To hill the spuds and irrigate, took all of their spare time.
The crop was sown with Crookwell seed and all went well at first,
Then tractor stalled and pump won’t start – potato farmers cursed.
But later on their efforts lapsed, the watering – not frequent,
For you see to beat the worm – to water is the treatment.
So little grub reared ugly head unheeded by the grower,
Undisputed fact of this – the market price is lower.
They should have sprayed the crop for pests, but left it unprotected,
And socialized at Sydney Show – potatoes now infected.
So they organized an aeroplane to spray the nurtured crop,
Because of all the hills and dales, crop didn’t cop the lot.
The worm, who’s getting older now is bigger, fatter, longer,
With smiling ends he burrows in – potato makes him stronger.
Much swearing all around the camp as harvesting draws nearer,
With digger set to turn the soil and hopes of prices dearer.
Machine then clagged – mechanic said “a broken universal”,
No service had this poor machine – a point quite controversial.
To organise a method new – the next step to be tackled,
A brand new digger came to stay, to tractor it was shackled.
Pickers came to walk behind, collecting new turned spuds,
Put the good ones in the bags, discarding all the duds.
Then into tub that rolls around to wash their little jackets,
And graded in the same machine and put in hessian packets.
But still the worm crawled in and out and left an awesome hole,
The spuds were went to Flemington to agent there called Mowle.
Who raised his voice and shook his fist aghast at the consignment,
And charged the mates a dumping fee and costs for their confinement.
As if they hadn’t had enough though most was self-inflicted,
The carrier they chose to use, strange tendencies depicted.
He had a dog, a truck, a wife – in that order he did treasure,
And dog “came on”, the truck gave up and his wife voiced her displeasure.
And so it was this year for them a venture unfinancial,
They’ll show ‘em next year you will find with cheques far more substantial.
That’s if they’re both still talking then, perhaps the months between,
Will help to mend their fraying wits and of potatoes dream.