Doing this blog is quite a new experience for me. I’ve been writing in one form or another since I was about five (the first novel I can remember writing was for an Australian great uncle Eddie who was kind enough to encourage me before I could really form legible letters). But even though writing has always been something I do, it’s never been something about me.

Anyone that has a blog will understand that I’ve developed an unhealthily obsessive habit of checking the stats…how many people read my post, who referred them, why aren’t they commenting, dammit just comment people! Sorry. Anyway, for the last month I’ve had some bizarre hits from around the world. Belgium, which is understandable since I’m unflinchingly sarcastic about them in this and my other blog. France, ditto but with less sarcasm because they have even less appreciation for it.

Russia and Brazil were surprises, but what grabbed my attention the most is that I have a regular German reader. Let’s call them Jurgen after Mr. Klinsmann, quite easily the finest German footballer of all time (not too tough a competition, granted, and not up to a Charlton or Moore status, but definitely on a par with a Robson or Dalglish).

I’m digressing. So, I began to think about Germans and, more to the point, what have the German’s done for us that I can use in my plans for the farm? And of course, the answer is great techno, engineering, alcohol and meat. Quite honestly, everything else Germanic is poor fart jokes, bad fashion and a rather sad appreciation for David Hasselhoff that can come to no good end.

While I can’t replicate the techno or engineering, I can have a bloody good go at the alcohol and meat. So, in recognition of my mysterious German reader, one of my first investments for Elm Tree Farm (just testing out the name), is going to be a peach tree (for schnapps), sausage making equipment (bratwurst, oh, yeah) and I’ll be brewing some wiess bier.

And if any wandering Germans want a friendly beer, some good sausage and a chat about football when visiting Ottawa…they’ll have the perfect place to come.