It never rains but it pours, at our place.
Figuratively speaking. (Literally speaking our farm hasn’t seen any decent rain for a while.)
Less than three months since we welcomed our gorgeous little girl, we bought Hubby’s family farm and became VIPs in our bank’s eyes - Very Indebted People.
While Hubby’s day job running the practical side of things remains largely unchanged, a whole new world of paperwork has rained down upon us.
If only the clouds were as plentiful as the bureaucrats.
It began with a downpour of solicitors’ contracts, bank loan contracts and Express Post envelopes, despite the fact that there is no Express Post service where we live.
Every time we thought we were done, more paperwork arrived.
Between caring for a small baby, reading the fine print and answering an endless stream of emails and phone calls, I found myself in a constant fog.
Finally the downpour slowed to a drizzle and we started to make some headway. I also got some sleep – it wasn’t only the baby that had been keeping me awake at night! Our Dairy Food Safety Licence arrived.
The bore transfer documentation was filed. VFF and UDV membership application forms were sent off. Electricity contracts were signed. WorkCover application forms were filled in. The milk company’s supplier handbook and HR folders were added to my already sky-high pile of reading material for a rainy day. If the pile gets any higher, it will become an OHS hazard.
As I was searching for a band-aid for a paper cut, I was reminded of two things. One, I need to stop procrastinating about writing more OHS policies. Hubby hates paperwork so I’ve volunteered to be the paperwork pusher in our partnership. After all, if I want to avoid milking cows, I need to prove my worth somehow.
Two, this whole ownership enterprise relies on Hubby’s physical ability to run the show. What if something bad happened to him? How would we manage?
We decided to research life insurance. The first company we rang emailed us a questionnaire so long that Hubby would die of old age before he completed it.
Then there was the accompanying Amazon rainforest of policy terms and conditions. The premiums were so high we wondered if we needed to ring the bank manager before we signed up. Hubby truly is worth a fortune. I have it in writing.
Finally the paperwork deluge soaked in and it soon felt normal to have every flat surface of the house covered in farm paperwork.
Let’s just hope that paper isn’t like seeds and won’t sprout enthusiastically in a few weeks’ time.
By Katie Macaulay