And so now the year proper begins.
Kids, big and small back to school.
Years 3, 5, 7 and 9.
Be prepared NAPLAN.
The three youngsters off to primary school Tuesday allowing Sarah and I one last day at home together to pack, prepare and possibly shed a few tears. We collected the others at 3 and all headed to town. Excited by new subject choices, new timetables, a new laptop to collect and rowing and netball to sign up for, the beginning of this new school year should be far less anxious than last year.
We spent a sweltering, hot Monday afternoon water-side, enjoying one of the freshly filled dams.
Heifers came out of the hills to investigate.
I think their concern primarily aimed at their multi-purpose lick trough.
Never mind girls, it'll be Winter soon enough, lick will be re-dispensed.
Sally hit Wallace in the mouth with an oar.
Tears were shed.
Blood was spilt.
Harsh words were spoken.
It isn't all picture-perfect here people.
With roads closed in all directions, wet weather allowed the big fella a little shed time.
While I may have thought the hay-baler was being serviced,
this instead has appeared:
The "Holy Smokes Mark 11"
As I type, it's still doing its thing out there with more hams and bacon.
Come hell or high water, we won't starve.
Unlike some in Rockhampton.
Woolworths' and Coles' shelves still depleted due to southern highway closures.
A story this morning of one woman picking up the last dozen loaves of bread at one local Woolies.
Upon reaching the checkout it was explained to her there was a 2 loaf per customer limit.
She promptly dropped ten loaves to the floor and stood on them.
In the words of my father,
the more people I meet, the more I like my dog.