Julie Paton: Rain brings back green grass

Paddocks were clear of green grass on some Northland dairy farms before recent rain.

Rain has swept in and saved the summer - and it was perfect. An initial small burst of gentle rain followed a week later by lots more.

It was so dry that if we'd had a huge cloudburst all at once, half the farm - or at least a good layer of topsoil - would have washed out to sea.

But this was made to order for resuscitating pasture, though our driveway is once again looking slightly the worse for wear.

Just a few days later, everything is green and this week, for the first in many, the cows had something to eat in their paddock.

It also means the pesky paradise ducks and Canadian geese can leave our crops alone - with no other feed in sight during the dry spell, flocks of them descended onto the chicory and tore into it.

We have a bird scarer which periodically booms at random and makes them fly away for a little bit before returning (I can vouch for its scariness, Bruce once unexpectedly set it off just outside the office where I was working and I fell off my chair). But the bird scarer can't go all night, or our neighbours will hate us.

The other week I climbed into bed and realised the scarer was still booming away out in the paddock, and Bruce was lying there pretending it wasn't so he didn't have to go out and turn it off.

Unfortunately, he couldn't pretend any more once I'd pointed it out to him and he had to go out into the dark night and turn it off.

The dry weather meant that we could empty the effluent ponds in good time for winter.

It's always a tricky job, especially as the water level goes down. On the last day, Bruce backed the tractor down with the stirrer to get the last little bit, but found to his alarm that the tractor had lost its grip and was sliding helplessly backwards further into the pond.

Keeping his head, he switched the stirrer on and used that to propel the tractor back up the side of the pond, until he was high enough to be towed out.

It's not just cow poop we deal with around here - during those long, dry summer months the cats forgot about rain and decided it was unpleasant and they would rather not go outside and deal with it.

Most inconveniently, they still need to poop, and one of the uncivilised little fiends has caused no end of grief, using bags, rugs and laptops for its needs.

The other day someone had left a sweatshirt lying on the floor by the back door, which the cat had repurposed to suit its needs.

Bruce came home from the morning's work on the farm, opened the door and before stripping off his overalls took his phone out of his pocket and threw it on the nearest soft landing surface ... which happened to be the repurposed sweatshirt.

As his phone arced through the air he realised in horror what lay in its path, but it was too late.

Plop! The phone landed splat in the middle of the freshly laid cat poop, and his phone was now lavishly coated in stinky brown slop.

At least we have plenty of water in the tanks now for this kind of clean-up operation - a few weeks ago things were looking dire, especially as we were a household of seven, including two girls with long hair that needs regular washing.

With three bodies heading back to university, the number of showers, dirty dishes and the mountainous laundry pile have shrunk dramatically - coinciding with that lovely, tank-filling rain.