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Wednesday, 25 September 2013

Vale Fred the Wonderdog

The perfect combination of intelligence, working ability and savage loyalty, our beloved Border Collie Fred was one of those amazing dogs that often only comes along once in a lifetime.













While a crazy, jammed pack full of activity school term came to an end, hay was cut, piglets were born, lick was delivered and laptop CPU's begged to be replaced, we watched our beloved Fred succumb to the rigours of old age. 

We've cried rivers.

I am grateful that our working dog pens are filled with his sons, daughters and grand-puppies.  His name will be lovingly mentioned in conversations around the dinner table for many years to come.

Rest in peace old mate.

Sunday, 8 September 2013

Rip, Tear, Bust

... best describes our current work pattern.


We ripped up to Bottle Tree this weekend, tore some cattle into the yards and nearly bust ourselves getting them sorted in daylight hours.  All part of the madness that is our weekends.  While Dad and Wallace truck cattle today, late weaners to come home, two sale bulls to deliver and a load to the meatworks, the girls and I are packing for school camp, the three youngsters departing for Brisbane tomorrow, leaving me childless.  All week.  I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry.


We do however, always make time to re-acquaint ourselves with old friends at Bottle Tree.


The old darling at the top always providing us with the first calf of the year in the stud paddock.


Her mates won't be too far behind her.  These late weaners needing to come home to make room.


With no time to run horses, it was a bike muster, Dad and an offsider bringing cattle in, while those left behind drafted.





This sweet baby girl, only a couple of days old has survived either a dog or eagle attack, sporting large puncture wounds over her loins.


 Kept aside with her Mum, she'll receive some penicillin today and hopefully make a full recovery.


Grandad's pesky black bull has again been removed from our stud paddock


amidst all manner of dark threats.

In other news, big brother Pete has returned and started stick-raking.


Having been a regular blog-reader and borne witness to creamy, sugary, chocolatey baking delights in the past, he's a little dismayed by our current anti-sugar campaign.


Bad timing Uncle Pete.


Thankfully we still enjoy the odd drink after a dusty day.

We've been putting some posts in the ground, new feed yards going up next to the working yards.



Wallace learning a lot of fencing skills including the all-important "Cobb & Co" fencing hitch.  There aren't too many things in the bush that can't be fixed with a cobb & co.


About twenty-four sets of ear-plugs have gone through the wash belonging to the chainsaw man and his team.  I don't feel I should have to do pockets.

Vege seedlings are ready to be planted in Plot 1 of the updated permaculture garden.


The big fella (under some protest) converted an old swing set into a new moveable chook pen.


My dome suffering one too many escaped pig attacks.

Sarah has been driving at every opportunity, less than two years till she gets her learner's permit we're informed.


I'm relegated to the back seat with the little kids.


That keeps things pretty serious back there.

These intrepid explorers set off to a local creek with school and searched for chrysoprase, a locally abundant gemstone.


They brought home quite the loot, including some 'gold' as 'planted' by mine manager and school dad.  Had them all quite excited I believe.

The mango tree is in full blossom,


as is Mama Pig,


piglets this week I suspect, whilst kids are on camp.

Puppies are growing like weeds,


and scoring high on the cuteness scale.




I'd best get back to packing.  With Wallace offsiding for Dad, I told him I'd pack his bag for camp.  Wonder if he'll enjoy the wardrobe combinations I'm putting together for him.

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