Monday, 30 January 2012

Boys will be Boys!

With 42 mm of most welcome rain falling yesterday morning, it seemed just the motivation for these cheeky characters to execute the great escape.

Found frolicking with my milkers, these boys had obviously been having whoopee playing in the freshly generated mud.

Thankfully photography sessions for advertising had ended and they were left to enjoy their facial mud-packs.

Only four more sleeps until they catch a lift north.

Looks like a bath will be in order beforehand.

And only four more sleeps until my girl comes home for the weekend.
But who's counting?

Sunday, 29 January 2012

Hot Shots & Demanding Milkers

Late yesterday afternoon, for a little Saturday fun,

Dad and the kids took turns

shooting at a row of tins perched on the edge of a garden bed.

Of course runners must be employed to race down and check the number of 'hits' between rounds,

the competitive nature of these children ensuring score-keeping was an integral part of the activity.

Being rather non-competitive by nature, I see no point in naming 'winners',

but will instead suggest to Wallace to just keep practising boy.

And finally this morning some rain is falling on Rock Wallaby.  After listening to impressive rainfall reports everywhere else this week, we'd only notched up an inch.

Unfortunately, Olivia my milker is bellowing to me from the yards and I'm tempted to send a child over to let her calf out.  Ease up on the milk people.

Friday, 27 January 2012

A Surgeon's Hands

It has long been said that necessity is the mother of invention.  And in the same vein, living far from town is the mother of being able to make do with what you have.  Whether it be a lack of self raising flour in the pantry, a ladder in the only pair of panytyhose in the cupboard, or as was the case earlier this week, a dog with a badly cut foot.

Sarah was gone but one night when the dog dramas started.  Being our number one dog handler and trainer, her absence was yet again sadly brought to the fore.  Fred the Wonderdog set off on yet another of his wandering jaunts, found not too far from home, after a phonecall from a friendly neighbour hinting that Fred was enjoying a taste of roadkill on the highway not far from home.

And then Ruby, Sarah's pride and joy, cut her foot, a large flap of skin requiring some veterinary attention.  Enter Dr Matthew, an 18 guage vaccinating needle cut and shaped to act as a suturing needle and a roll of dental floss.

Ruby sat curled on my lap as her foot was stitched and all is now well.  We'll wait till Sarah's home next weekend to take the stitches out. 

After a couple of nights recuperating in the laundry and one too many attempts to curl up on Wallace's bed, Ruby is now back in her cage, but on light duties for the next week or two.

Thursday, 26 January 2012

Australia Day

Pikelets for morning tea.

This one requested by Wallace to celebrate this special day.

Sarah has had the day at the beach.  For the first time ever, this week I have been eternally grateful for mobile phones and the fact that I can readily communicate with our girl every day.  It's been a tough week.

Even with one away there seems to be no shortage of these on the line.  The incredible rainfall that seemingly everybody else in the state has enjoyed has evaded us, with about 15mm falling on us over the course of the week.  I do think our turn's coming though.

We have bulls heading north next Friday for a sale.

I won't be going.

I'll be sleeping out on the steps of Sarah's Residential building, waiting to collect her when the bell rings.

I probably won't be the only mum there.

Sally discovered an aerobics DVD and has been working a sweat up.  Not hard with humidity levels bordering on torturous.

After a split second of terror whilst carrying folded washing into the little kids' bedroom this morning, I had to chuckle.

I think they were trying to cheer me up.

Happy Australia Day everyone.
And thankyou for your comments on my last post.  We're all going okay.

Sunday, 22 January 2012


was a rather momentous occasion in all our lives, most particularly this firstborn child of mine. 

After a breakfast of bacon and eggs, enjoyed while taunted by her siblings about the cold gruel she will have to endure tomorrow,

the car was packed

and we headed for town.

Where we set up the following new home for our beautiful girl.

And said our goodbyes.

The start of a brand new chapter.

Friday, 20 January 2012

Cubbies, Cameras & Custardy Cakes (aka Trifle)

I've pulled myself from the doldrums, and have really enjoyed these last few holiday days.

Unfortunately Matthew was summonsed to Winton early in the week, some nine hours drive away for a job weighing steers which took all of two hours.  Such is life.  The kids and I have enjoyed eating tea in the lounge-room (unheard of any other time of the year) and generally goofing around.

There's been banana cake baking, pikelet enjoyment, colourful cubby creativity,

as well as much trampolining under the tree

(not exactly OH&S compliant), but they seldom bump their heads more than once.

Matthew's Mum arrived last night for a couple of days.  A very welcome distraction.  And of course it's been another full blown Christmas extravaganza. 

There will be nothing move, four legged or two, fur-coated or other, without having it's image forever frozen in time. 

I feel another external hard drive coming on.

Timely, as today we primped and preened sale bulls,

readying them for a photography session.  If I look a little reluctant to get up close and personal, it's because I was.  This fella had never had a hand on him before.

It seems I haven't been the only one busy with name-tagging.

Sally can't wait until next mustering day to try out this personalised saddle blanket, and we other five are putting in orders for next Christmas already.  Very special.  Thankyou Old Nev.

In an effort to most effectively use some of the excess eggs and milk we currently have, we whipped up a gallon of custard,

combined it with some sponge rolls

jelly and whipped cream and called it a

trifle, which I've been hankering for, for the entire Christmas season, and had thus far evaded me.

Now, off to do seventeen laps of the front paddock on the treadly.

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

A Mixed Bag

As we look down the barrel of a new school year, it seems as though we're all riding a roller-coaster of sorts.  Of course there are those little ones whose excitement can't be contained, eager to see what lies around the next corner, some a little fearful of the twists and turns but still confident of the fun that lies ahead, and others like myself, clutching on for dear life, wishing the end would come, that the track would run smooth again, that next Monday would arrive and we could settle into our new routine, our new normality.

We've been busily making laundry bags,

sewing a name tag on every item on which one can be sewn,

covering books and readying ourselves for Sunday's trip to town.

Life outside the houseyard has continued regardless.

My beautiful and favourite milking cow Priscilla has calved again, meaning she will re-enter the fold in the next week or two.

Having only weaned her last calf a month ago, she's had little time to herself.  Her latest baby girl is by a Brahman bull, she herself being a purebred Jersey.

We're unsure whether Liesel is therefore a Jer-man, a Bra-sey or just a Jer-bra.

We've opted for the Jer-man, and having just finished Markus Zusac's  "The Book Thief", our little Jer-man girl has thus been named Liesel Meminger.

In the meantime, Olivia has been filling in for Priscilla,

a Brown Swiss-Jersey cross, and mother of Opal,

a most cantankerous little piece of work.  Olivia hadn't been milked before, and for a first-timer has been a dream.

The show calves haven't had quite as much attention as I'd hoped, but some more time will be spent with them this week.  The girls have to have them leading properly before school resumes.

Perhaps we could phone a friend.

Despite my disdain for youngsters with fidgeting thumbs, and eyes only for screens, Sarah received a phone for Christmas.  I wonder if she'll be the only child at school with Slim Dusty's Whoa Bullocks on her playlist.

We're back to town today for dental appointments.
Then it's baton down the hatches, lock the gate and stay put until Sunday.


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