Country Squire

ROB INGRAM LEARNS AN IMPORTANT LESSON IN DECLUTTERING: SOME THINGS JUST SHOULDN’T BE TIDIED UP.

OUT IN THE NATURAL WORLD — where people are known to vote for the Shooters, Fishers and Farmers Party — many species have natural enemies. The fox is the natural enemy of the rabbit. The hawk is the natural enemy of the rodent. And, of course, the Water Minister is the natural enemy of the Murray cod. And now it has come to this. A Japanese author named Marie Kondo has become the natural enemy of the rural hoarder. ‘Rural hoarder’ is actually something of a tautology because if you’re rural, you’re a hoarder. Just look around the average farmhouse. Every bit of agricultural machinery that has ever served its owner well is given a permanent memorial somewhere in the home paddock. It’s a mark of respect. But now Marie Kondo has emerged as an international patron saint of declutter. She has become famous through her books The Life-changing Magic of Tidying Up and Spark Joy. And her messages have been joyfully embraced by The Chosen One, whose personal motto has long been “tidy up as you go along”. In the wake of Marie Kondo’s invitation for the world to participate in “tidying adventures”, a profusion of buy, swap and sell sites have erupted on the internet. These are driven by people who have been touched by the hand of the patron saint and been moved to offer generations of curios, knick-knacks and — let’s be truthful here — garbage, to others also in declutter mode. The Chosen One is in a frenzy of joyful excitement about all this and has taken to spending daylight to dusk on tidying adventures. And sure enough, out against the vegetable garden fence she located an implement, variously known as a hand plough or a walking plough, which she considered something of a prize. “Vintage farm machinery is very sought after as garden ornaments,” she declared. Among those out here who have not yet embraced vows of Kondo-ism are vintage tractor and farm machinery enthusiasts. So I devoted a tea break to some research. An inspection of the plough revealed that it was made by a company called Hampton. Eventually, on an American farm machinery site, I found mention of the Hampton Manufacturing Company of Hampton, Nebraska, whose products included early ploughs and manure spreaders. “Not widely known to many,” said the site, “for Hampton was a small manufacturer serving a fairly local market.” Yet here was the Hampton No 2 residing at Cobbora 15 kilometres from Dunedoo and 30 kilometres from Elong Elong in the Central Western Slopes of New South Wales. Two cups of tea later I was hooked. And I delved again into American writer Ronald Jager’s great book Eighty Acres — an elegy for his family’s farm. In the early 20th century, 80 acres was considered the limit that could be efficiently farmed by one farmer and two horses. Driving a team of horses is a basic, gentle pleasure, especially flattering to a farm boy’s self-image, he wrote. The horses knew what job they were doing, they knew the way to carry the sleigh and they picked up quickly on the dull fact that they should follow the furrows, the rows, the ruts, walk slowly, turn around at the end, stand, or whatever. The horses have the bit in their mouths and they know exactly what is expected of them. Young and spirited horses will sense that the boy’s tug on the reins and the voice at the end of them lack authority, and that sometimes prompts them to ignore the driver; they might simply turn and head for the barn. Veteran horses are more predictable, merely stopping now and then to see if anybody is paying attention. Meanwhile, a huge tractor with air-conditioned cab, advanced GPS guidance system and massive disc harrows trundles around our bottom paddock. Efficient, revolutionary technology. Where has the romance of farming gone? Ah, yes: the Hampton No 2 is back beside the fence.

A JAPANESE AUTHOR NAMED MARIE KONDO HAS BECOME THE NATURAL ENEMY OF THE RURAL HOARDER.