Only five mil of rain to report for the day here at RockWallaby. 23 at BottleTree though, where we chose to spend this Sunday.
Matthew and Wallace had headed up yonder yesterday to do the rounds. Happening upon a mob of breeders with a dozen 'strangers' attached, they took the opportunity to yard them, including two speary-horned cleanskin mickeys, fresh from the mountains. Whilst no photographic evidence exists, it would appear to me, that much like his fishing stories, they weren't near so big and scary in real life as the story painted over the dinner table last night.
These old darlings were walked back to their mountain paddock in the cold, wet rain.
Of course no Sunday would be complete without a little mechanical tinkering thrown in.
Quite the contrast from Saturday, when with the boys gone bush, and Sarah weekending at school, the two remaining girls cooled themselves with a little water-play.
Country in these parts has browned off considerably. It's always much the same this time of year, extending you to your limits before the first storms of the season roll in.
That little green patch visible in the middle is our irrigated lucerne paddock. That pesky black dot in the centre is a Victorian Brangus heifer who has decided this paddock is the closest thing to her homeland in the area. While her mates are showing signs of declining nutrition, she's doing surprisingly well.
What she doesn't realise is that if she's not careful she's going to find herself in the cold-room.