Cattle, Kids & Chaos

Boys will be Boys!

2012-01-30T05:08:00.001+10:00

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?

Hot Shots & Demanding Milkers

2012-01-29T08:32:00.000+10:00

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.

A Surgeon's Hands

2012-01-27T13:16:00.000+10:00

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.

Australia Day

2012-01-26T14:04:00.000+10:00

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.

Today...

2012-01-22T21:08:00.000+10:00

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.

Cubbies, Cameras & Custardy Cakes (aka Trifle)

2012-01-20T17:29:00.000+10:00

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.

A Mixed Bag

2012-01-17T08:29:00.000+10:00

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.

Missing Christmas

2012-01-10T16:50:00.000+10:00

With Matthew back to work yesterday, the harsh reality that Christmas is actually over is settling upon us. Sally was quite right when explaining to me that the reason it's called Christmas (pronounced Chriss-miss) is that when it's over, you really miss it! Couldn't have said it better myself.

I'm leaving this wreath up a little longer in the kitchen. It matches my red curtains, and hides some of the gecko poop on the windows.
Afternoon beers have been replaced with juicy, healthy mangoes. Our little mango tree just won't stop producing. I'm now even gladly sharing with the cockatoos. Mama Pig even looks the other way when we throw a few more over-ripe delights into her paddock.

Morning lie-ins have been replaced with the 5am morning news blaring from the radio. Teeth-rattling cycling jaunts and bone-jarring runs are coming back into fashion. I always start the year with more jiggly bits than I finished the previous one. Sign of a great Christmas break I guess.

The weather has fully heated up. Strength-sapping heat that confines everybody indoors for a few hours mid-day.

I'm endeavouring to clean up Sarah and Jessie's bedroom before they return from their beachside vacation. Of course I seem to be spending a great deal of the time sitting on the floor in tears as I flick through old memories and add more items to the growing collection behind her door that need to be packed for school.

My washing machine is on summer break as well. Fortunately I nabbed a small twin tub from under Mum's house and have been coping quite well. In fact I was even passing comment to Matthew over a cold mango yesterday afternoon that it was far quicker than the automatic machine. At that point I hadn't commenced the moutainous pile of jeans and thus wasn't aware that it could only handle two pairs per load.

I would prefer not to see the evidence of how filthy our clothes are. Admittedly this was the last load of some particularly nasty branding jeans. And in news just to hand, my not very old automatic washing machine has been deemed uneconomical to repair. I hadn't realised when it was purchased only five years ago that it was a disposable commodity.

Sally and Wallace are missing their older sisters.

A face-paint find today providing some entertainment.

Sally up first,

channelling her inner cheetah.

Wallace, aiming for an Avatar look,

though lookingly decidely smurf-like.

Tomorrow is the great back-to-school spending spree. Hopefully there'll be no tears in the Big W stationery aisle. Though there have been in the past, and nothing to do with boarding school.

From Bottle Tree to the Beach

2012-01-05T08:28:00.000+10:00

We've returned from Bottle Tree where we managed to brand another couple of paddocks. It needed to be done before the two big girls head off on a beachside holiday with Nanny and Grandad.

We were already short one ringer, with Wallace having to be left behind, suffering a particularly nasty belly bug. Steel is not enjoying his Christmas present at all. An electric collar.

The older girls believe they're big enough now to dispense with the helmets. They could be right. I'm just not quite ready yet for this step.

The helmets provide such little sun protection though and are such heavy, hot contraptions, making an already hot, sweaty job even moreso.

Fred the wonderdog and I were relegated to the bike. Fully expecting to be riding, I'd packed my dinky little camera in my pocket and was hopeful of some horseback action shots.

Instead, Fred and I swept the back reaches of the paddock, sending cattle into the awaiting horsemen.

We drafted cattle late into the afternoon and made an early start on the branding next morning.

While the rest of us enjoyed tea and toast before setting out, Sally chose not to, and firmly believed her stomach was digesting itself by the time we'd finished branding and headed back for a cook-up.

It's a hot, tough job for a kid.

Made worse by your sisters talking incessantly about going to the beach for a holiday.

Never mind Sal. I'm sure they'll miss us terribly.

'Twas Mulga Bill from Eaglehawk

2012-01-03T07:42:00.000+10:00

A particularly spoilt mother in this household received an abundance of wonderful gifts this past Christmas, one of those being a bicycle.

It sparked some renewed interest within the family, and after some overdue maintenance issues,

oiling chains and replacing seats and tubes,

we've been doing a lot of pedalling this past week.

A cleared area across from our front gate used to store gravel during recent highway-widening activities, proved to be a great spot.

Wallace thinks my bike is of the slow variety,

what he doesn't understand is it has nothing to do with the bike,

but all to do with the motor.

Sal seems to spend as much time under her bike, as on it.

When it comes to bike-riding, she's pretty handy on a horse.

Every knee and elbow grazed.

In her own words "I'm just a wreck".

She's happy that today we're swapping these wheeled beasts for our more controllable horses

as we head back to Bottle Tree for more branding.

Less than three weeks of holidays remain.

2011: A Year in Blog Headers

2012-01-01T14:43:00.000+10:00

2011: It's a Wrap

2011-12-31T17:47:00.000+10:00

Our 2011 started as a wet one. Thankfully, unaffected by floods which encompassed much of our state, we enjoyed 195mm of glorious rain in January, though with all roads to our local town cut other than our own, a toilet paper deficiency was our greatest concern.

Mangoes were enjoyed,

and kids spent the final days of their school holidays playing in freshly filled dams.

A combination of flooded creeks and impassable bogs, saw us walk fat cows from Chabo to the neighbour's yards to make the first kill of the year.

My four returned to school, Years 1, 3, 5 and 7, the final year they'd all be together.

Don't get me started.

February was not so wet (67 mm only). In line with my attempts to fill lunchboxes with only home-baked morsels,

I seemed to spend a lot of time in my kitchen.

My two big girls

were presented with leadership roles at school, making their parents very proud.

Jessie turned 10, and as we do

we celebrated with cake.

March was our wettest month of the year (259mm) and we welcomed pig-a-lets.

The local show ball was held

with a black and white theme.
The most exciting news of April was our deal on "Bottle Tree", a beautiful Buffel block adjoining my parents' property "Chabo". With plans to move there in early 2015, we will spend the next few years readying Rock Wallaby for sale.

Both Interhouse and Interschool Sports Carnivals were held in May.

Has anyone heard the saying "big fish in a little pond"?

We'll enjoy it while we can.

A lot of time was spent at Bottle Tree with cattle to be cross-branded

and creeks to be explored.

Wallace learnt to drive in June,

we preg-tested

and the big girl turned twelve.

Some weaning took place in July, of both the porcine

and bovine varieties,

and the vege garden continued to thrive.

In August we headed to Brisbane for the Ekka

to offer Dad moral support while he judged the Brahmans,

and this baby of mine turned seven.

How does it happen.

September heralds the start of calving, with these little tykes popping up all over,

some prettier than others.

Molasses was fed to calving cows, with no rain falling during September, October or November.

I completed the Couch to 5K running program and found a new love.

Bull sales came and went in October with our sale results very pleasing in what was a rather volatile year for the beef industry.

Both Mama Pig and Socks provided us with another round of piglets,

nineteen in total. If only our calving rate was so high.

I celebrated

yet another birthday.

While we enjoyed Melbourne Cup festivities

on the first Tuesday of November, our big girl was in town participating in a 'residential transition period' at her boarding school in readiness for next year.

Don't get me started.

We enjoyed an Interhouse Swimming Carnival,

welcomed some new steeds

and this big brute, whose stay was rather short-lived.

We made what felt like a ton of pork sausages

and wished that pig had never arrived.

The kids spoilt Matthew and I on our sixteenth wedding anniversary

and made us feel particularly blessed.

Which brings us to December,

a time of birthdays for big and little boys in this family, as well as Christmas celebrations and a little fishing,

and a little branding thrown in.

And as this last day of this year comes to an end, I can hear kids on pushbikes laughing, the old dozer rattling over some suckers in the horse paddock, and I can smell sticky pork ribs in the oven.
Life's sweet.
Wishing everybody a wonderful 2012. We're ready.

And That's That

2011-12-30T21:06:00.000+10:00

We've enjoyed a wonderful Christmas.

Santa providing a bountiful supply of joy.

and overflowing Nanny's recycling bin.

As is the case every year we've eaten far more than we should,

or maybe that's just me.

Either way I'm hopeful that 2012 may see elasticated waistbands make a comeback.

Meet my Mum and Dad,

they're two of my favourite people.

We had Christmas at their place, with my brother, his wife and two boys down to visit.

We seem to have come home with an additional three thousand pieces of lego,

difficult to find when searching for the exact piece required for a Harry Potter Night Train, easier in the middle of the night enroute to the bathroom when said piece embeds itself in the soft arch of one's foot.

A small price to pay I guess for the hours of fun.

The intense focus required soon took its toll on this young player,

she'd crashed before the sun set on another Christmas Day.

Fortunately swimming replaces bathing this time of year.

We returned home with a very sick Dad, still struggling to recover from some fever that has a firm grip on his usually resilient self. Angry that he's never had a day sick from work, but is going to spend his holidays infirmed, he's been trying to work on the dozer and continue through the great 'to do' list that his break from 'work' entails.

We've celebrated his birthday since,

and with Dad too sick to enjoy his mud cake, the children and I are resolutely soldiering through it.

We returned home to a power outage brought about by a quite savage storm which left forty mil in the rain-guage and a path of destruction in its wake. Fuses were blown on the main power line, our major casualty a relatively new deep freezer full of beef and pork. We saved the meat, but have yet another brand new freezer in our possession.

Our newly established aquarian eco-system suffered a seventy-five percent reduction in numbers, with our sole survivor only lasting two more days.

Hopefully better days ahead in 2012.

Of course it's since been resolved that we will never be leaving home again.

'Twas the Week before Christmas ...

2011-12-24T06:53:00.000+10:00

and the annual waistline expansion project is well underway.

White Choc Rocky Road the current favourite.

Unfortunately, during this time of peace and goodwill,

sibling disharmony is rife.

So gratifying to see that despite their differences, there are still some well wishes being offered.

Matthew has commenced annual holidays and we welcome our Dad back to the fold.

Three weeks without the phone permanently attached to his ear,

that's the true miracle of Christmas.

Time for children,

football,

late afternoon lawn skirmishes,

and lessons in tactics.

Perfect to burn the few extra kilojoules currently being consumed.

Gingerbread house construction

was completed

and has already been

partly consumed.

This year's effort

including a Christmas Tree,

and the complete family.

Note the startling resemblance, me with flower in hair, Dad looking like Elvis.

With Santa Clause 1, 2 and 3 all featuring on television this week, the sofa bed has been pulled out more than one night to allow for a superior television viewing experience.

There's also been a little work,

with a couple of days spent at Bottle Tree.

And I don't just stand around, hands on hips.

But I wouldn't like to get the brand on the wrong butt.

Sal worked the backyard,

Jess kept them coming up the crush

and Wal cooked, while Sarah photographed.

A flat tyre on the way home was just what everybody needed.

Quite ~~tyring~~ tiring actually.

(Boom, boom).

We also fit in an afternoon of fishing,

so relaxing,

with Dad constantly warning children

to stay clear of the water's edge

due to recent croc sightings.

Makes for a very peaceful afternoon.

There've been more new babies for Christmas,

and yesterday, the arrival home of this old girl.

who will be seen chugging through the rocks and wallabies in weeks and months to come.

And of course there was more kid-cooking.

And as the week before Christmas comes to an end,

I wish everybody a wonderful Christmas,

filled with love and laughter.

Our Latest Craze

2011-12-19T20:36:00.000+10:00

Despite my dislike of televisions, we've had a new flat screen move into our home in recent days. The kids have been glued to it ever since.

Not much work forthcoming from the troops.

The beauty of this flat-screen, unlike our recent switch to digital (thankyou to the powers that be who switched off the analogue television service that has served us well over many years), is that it continues to function even if a cloud moves overhead. Something our digital signal receiving satellite fails to cope with.

It also continues to entertain when the power is off, as it has been so many, many times since storms started a couple of weeks ago.

And there are no adverts.

A Bogtrotting Delight

2011-12-18T20:09:00.000+10:00

In a household filled with budding chefs, the birth hierarchy dictates the youngest of the brood seldom has the opportunity to get up close and personal with the kitchen.

However, with the big girls enjoying a sleep-over with Nanny and filling her kitchen with rum-balls, white chocolate rocky road, caramel hazelnut fudge and triple-choc delight, and Wallace off visiting a good mate who no longer attends our school, it was open slather for this kitchen newbie.

With this new cookbook gracing our shelves,

we were eager to try a "completely revolting recipe" in the form of Bruce Bogtrotter's Chocolate Mud Cake.

A cake in need of six eggs was just what we needed with our girls providing us with a bounty of eggs in recent weeks.

Little one set about the tasks of melting,

folding,

and came up with a chocolate number that endured much taste-testing before making it to the oven.

It emerged looking a winner,

and was of course completed with a ganache topping and a scattering of good old Freckles, not seen nearly enough on Master Chef.

Happy days.

Feeling Flushed?

2011-12-13T21:59:00.000+10:00

Six of our finest girls lined up early Saturday morning to provide us with a bounty of beautiful embryos.
These gorgeous girls, the cream of the crop, provided us with 54 A-grade embryos, an amazing result. This time, the 'Great Book of ET Excuses' didn't need to be plucked from the bookshelf, a good day in any technician's book.

This old dear, the only cow in a mix of heifers, producing 12, all of which we implanted. Not the prettiest cow in the herd, she has proved herself time and time again with her progeny always top of the field.

Embryos were loaded into straws and transported to Bottle Tree for implantation into the waiting recipient females who will act as surrogates for the next nine months of gestation and six months of mothering. With the sound of growing buffel grass ringing in our ears, and thunder storms bumping all around, we are quietly optimistic of a good preg-test.

First days of the school holidays saw the big girls and I tick some jobs off the 'holiday to-do' list, including starting the breaking in process for three head of cattle we hope to take to Beef 2012 next year.

With halters on yesterday and drag leads today, we hope to have them tied up by the weekend. Of course, Christmas baking may take precedence. It's all about prioritising.

Though I may have to put some time aside for a little revision on which ones we actuallly milk.
Uh-uh Jessie. Retreat. This is a no-go. Repeat, Jessie, retreat, retreat.

Today's rounds revealed babies galore. Some red.

Some not.

These little tackers out of a Brangus female we flushed to an American Brangus bull.

After a couple of months of serious neglect, we also started a re-working of the vege garden area.

Surprisingly we unearthed some garlic, as well as potatoes of the conventional and sweet varieties, all thought to be long perished. Although with potatoes currently selling at 29 cents a kilo, one must question the mathematics involved with the purchase of $18 worth of seed potatoes.

I'm sure they'll be delicious. Expensively delicious.

HO! HO! HO!

2011-12-12T15:14:00.000+10:00

The Last Week

2011-12-11T21:59:00.000+10:00

In a week that encompassed many emotions, we completed Years 1, 3, 5 and 7 in great style. As an unashamedly proud mother, I will forewarn all, that I will continue to use this blog as my very own brag book.
Baby Sal, taking out the Academic award for the juniors,

Wallace, the intermediate, (as well as tying for the sportsmanship award)

and Jessie the Senior award.

Sarah, completing Year 7, and thus her primary education, was awarded a bursary for academic excellence.

I cried.
For many reasons.
Firstly, that my firstborn will be leaving the nest, leaving the small school that has not only provided her with an amazing grounding in education, but has also cared for her, supported her, lifted her, fostered her and protected her.

And secondly, because we farewelled an amazing young woman who has been at the helm of our school these past eighteen months.

Who will be so sadly missed by all within our school community.

And who is moving onto a school I hope will love and appreciate her as much as we have.

And I've no doubt they will.

We've had Christmas Carols,

and class presentations,

Christmas hats,

as well as Christmas gifts

and just as every cloud has a silver lining,

for the very last time I sent four lunch boxes out the door.

December Days

2011-12-04T15:51:00.000+10:00

Saturday, December 3 was a busy day in the Rock Wallaby household. With the boychild celebrating his ninth birthday,

there was of course cake to prepare,

chocolate mudcake as ordered,

(jaffas replacing the fresh raspberries I would have preferred),

... but still given the nod by sister number three.

(note the front teeth, or lack thereof ... already tiring of the "all I want for xmas" remarks, and after two nights of tooth-fairy no-shows, was most appreciative of a visit last night).

Saturday also included much backing and forthing to the yards, observing and AI-ing donor females in preparation for next week's flush,

and no, the stickers aren't part of our festive, decorative theme for the month, but instead act to assist us in determining when a heifer is in 'standing heat' and therefore ready to be artificially inseminated some twelve to fifteen hours later. Always nice to use red or green ones this time of year though.

And of course in preparation for Christmas, there were bacon pieces and hams to be smoked.

With the aroma of smoky, baking hams wafting through the house, and Sarah's just downloaded Christmas tunes belting from her ipod, it was starting to feel just like a 'ripper little Aussie Christmas', as one of the songs declared.

With Wallace's remote controlled helicopter buzzing around our heads,

and unwilling to share this year's crop with the flying foxes and parrots, we wrapped mangoes in newspaper and hid them in a dark corner to ripen.

The kids set about erecting the Tree

and adorning the house,

racing to be first from bed to see what treats our advent doll has in store,

some days better loot than others.

(If the tooth-fairy can't even remember to visit, you can imagine how well this is going).

Wallace is hoping for somewhat of an advantage at being first on the scene,

with this birthday present most timely.

And so the birthday celebrations ended with lasagne on the menu,

and Julie Goodwin's Milk Chocolate Pots

a fitting finale to a fun day, before the children retired to the cubby, where for the second night in succession the very bravest of the brave laid their sweet heads

which of course contributed to the tooth-fairy dilemma I've no doubt.

And now with another weekend coming to a close, two more Christmas porkers hang in the cold-room, donor heifers are back in their paddock and we're readying ourselves for the last week of school.

Anticipation

2011-11-30T12:25:00.000+10:00

The two Y-chromosome wielding members of our household celebrate birthdays in December, one early on, one close to the end.

One is currently counting days, frantically crossing dates off a specially produced calendar on the fridge, sometimes even before that date has seen the light of day. The other birthday boy is less excited.

As well as birthdays to ponder, there's been quite a bit of Christmas list production ... helpful for Mums and Nans and Grandis and Old Nevs as well as Santa.

I'm sensing a recurring theme in this one. Thinking maybe Nerf Guns, fishing rods and knife-belts are not on the radar this year.

Though pleased to see work shirts made the cut.

In light of the fact that a Harry Potter inspired wand workshop has appeared in Wallace and Sally's bedroom, I am thinking that maybe the rest of us will be scoring wands in our stockings this year.

And yes Wallace, I do promise that painting your bedroom will be top of the priority list for 2012.

Fun in the Sun

2011-11-27T21:22:00.000+10:00

On the day I was expecting to be inundated with rain, as per forecasts for the past fortnight, we instead enjoyed a sultry day poolside as our kids partook in the annual inter-house swimming carnival. Pre-cursor to next week's inter-school event, it acted as a training session with a little healthy competition thrown in.

With statistics released last week revealing that some 50,000 students will finish primary school in Australia this year unable to swim well enough to save themselves, I'm pleased to report that none of those will hail from our little school.

With butterfly making it into this year's program, our kids have risen to the occasion and displayed their incredible ability and tenacity,

in a stroke that can be downright tricky ...

... and a little bit painful.

Returning home with a handful of ribbons and

sunburnt shoulders,

we're seriously contemplating our tactics for next week's competition.

Will we go the post-swim massage, rub-down and technical de-brief,

or forego all that for a freezing cold Milo?

May the Horse be with You

2011-11-25T06:48:00.000+10:00

Earlier this week Sally came rushing from the kitchen where the radio news was blaring, to find me.

"Mum, Mum, guess what I just heard on the news.

Terrible horses have killed thirty people".

"Terrible horses?"

Slowly, the cogs of my mind started turning until the penny dropped.

"Taliban Forces Sal, Taliban Forces".

Bottle Tree Babes

2011-11-23T10:46:00.000+10:00

We managed a rushed trip to Bottle Tree yesterday to needle heifers that will be our recipient females for an embryo transfer program to be conducted early December. The mathematics involved in dropping kids at school at 8, driving the two and a half hours to Bottle Tree, performing six hours work, and driving the two and a half hour return trip before 3 o'clock doesn't compute. Thankfully Nanny came to the rescue, putting a quick 220 k's on the clock to collect the kids for me!

Which gave me time to swing by a couple of dams on the way out and check out these little fellas that are everywhere.

Which will ensure we have something to do the first week of school holidays, with all hands on deck to race these tykes through the branding cradle.

Boredom has never really been an issue for us during school holidays.

This year we'll hopefully slide into Christmas having cleaned up the branding, performed an embryo transfer program, as well as a small IVF program and thrown a new hay shed up.

As well as ensuring the children have a day in town to Christmas shop for their parents!

This wee heifer belonging to Wallace, born from his heifer Rose (note the W on her shoulder). The children are slowly accumulating more cattle than their parents, but refuse to be drawn into discussion on paying agistment. Grandad may suggest he had similar conversations with their mother.

These rascals were also enjoying some leisurely time by the dam.

Five suckers in total, all having a wonderful afternoon lounge. Grateful to have been born free, unlike their domestic cousins who end up in our cold room.

Some Sunday Snags

2011-11-21T20:48:00.000+10:00

Sundays of course are all about quality family time.

Nothing like arming the children with sharp knives and watching the fun begin.

Strangely enough it was Dad who rather neatly took a slice off the top of his thumb and required some medical attention.

Note to self, more bandaids required before next butchering job.

End result: 30 kilos of pork sausages,

and a prize to the lucky diner who finds the end of Dad's thumb.

Stuff It!

2011-11-19T05:07:00.001+10:00

Remember this?

For a fleeting moment, I did think of cutting it in half, scooping out its innards, sauteeing some onion and garlic, adding some minced beef and probably a little bacon, smothering it in cheese, baking it and offering it to my needy children.

But knowing that they would devour the protein portion of the offering, and leave the zucchini casing on their plates to be scraped into the scrap bucket (they aren't as perfect as some of you are beginning to believe),

I decided to cut out the middle man.

We Don't need Stickers

2011-11-18T09:58:00.000+10:00

Now that's a Zucchini

2011-11-17T05:55:00.000+10:00

Spoilt

2011-11-15T05:24:00.000+10:00

For the first time in many months we have had a full weekend at home. Bliss.

In celebration of our wedding anniversay on Friday, and after weeks of discussion and preparation, the children treated us to a three course meal Saturday night, preparing and serving everything themselves.

With entree served on the verandah, we enjoyed coriander-infused meatballs served on a spear of rosemary.

Of course, they were cooked when we enjoyed them.

We were moved inside for main course, where lamb racks

encrusted with a crumb of bread, parsley and rosemary were served with

asparagus rolled in

mozzarella and prosciutto and honeyed carrots with a light sprinkling of sesame seeds.

With Jessie operating as Head Chef,

and Sarah general gopher, offsider to Jess and creator of atmosphere via the wonders of her ipod,

Wallace and Sally were exceptional wait-staff

with Wallace only bumping one glass of wine into his mother's lap.

The grand finale,

as appearing on the cover of the current Family Circle magazine

was simply amazing.

Fully prepared by Sarah, this one will definitely be returning for Christmas.

I went to bed that night feeling very spoilt. Spoilt by the richness of my life, spoilt to have four healthy children who can not only chop wood, open gates and work cattle, but who can also cook. I can see myself becoming redundant in the not too distant future.

The Eleventh of the Eleventh

2011-11-11T11:03:00.000+10:00

Sixteen years ago today I married.

On what was an incredibly hot Summer's day.

Our ceremony wasn't until 5 in the afternoon, but still the heat caused the cream roses of my bouquet to droop their beautiful heads in dismay.

And of course the soaring temperatures ensured every guest had an unquenchable thirst.

We left our reception at 4 in the morning, surrounded by good friends and happy memories.

And with every passing year I am more grateful to have met the man who is my husband.

If you wanna grow up ...

2011-11-10T05:46:00.000+10:00

to be a big, big man

you've gotta

get a little

dirt on your hands son,

get a little dirt on your hands.

Wallace heard this old song on the radio recently, and has been singing it ever since.

Mum's pretty impressed to have been usurped of the task of chopping wood, though we may have to work on his method of swinging blindly with eyes closed.

Thankfully...

2011-11-09T13:08:00.000+10:00

Crackling is only visiting on a temporary visa.

He has a date with our smoker in the next few days.

Not content with his designated sleeping quarters, he promptly made his way into the houseyard.

Which wouldn't have been so bad, only that I've been full-time sprinkling over the past few days, leaving the lawn in a lovely spongey state ...

just perfect for a little porcine digging.

Crackling has since been relocated

and is becoming acquainted with his nosy neighbours.

It's Always Exciting ...

2011-11-08T21:24:00.000+10:00

... when Dad takes the truck to work. One never knows what may result.

Today's return trip saw the addition of two new broncs to the plant. Wallace has been having difficulty with his old mare in recent times and was on the lookout for a new steed.

Enter Hero.

A retired stockhorse, whose younger days were spent in the far north.

Who seems to have ticked

all the boxes.

Sarah quickly lay claim to the second grey off the truck.

Meet Warrior.

And so while the horses were put through their paces, others looked on,

pleading for a turn.

Which with some serious negotiation came about.

Providing some rail time for Sarah and Wal.

And if that wasn't enough excitement, further investigation revealed another surprise in the truck.

Because apparently the twenty-five pigs currently in our possession,

just aren't enough.

Welcome Hero, Warrior ... and Crackling.

Adventures & Injuries

2011-11-07T14:44:00.000+10:00

The team saddled up yesterday to help a neighbour walk a mob of cows through some fairly rough terrain.

Sal, most excited and rearing to go.

Horses were primped and preened in readiness for their grand adventure.

Our big girl safely returned to the fold, after her three day 'transitional' experience at secondary school.

One youngster, as pictured above,

yet to leave her side.

The afternoon unfolded without incident and ended with far too late a Sunday night for children who had to be at school this morning.

In other news,

Fred the Wonderdog, took a hit for the team on Saturday. Blocking a mob of freshly cross-branded heifers turned out from the Bottle Tree yards, he was rather unceremoniously stomped on, tearing between his toes, causing a great deal of blood loss and yelping.

The old coot continued to work on three legs, until we were finally able to call him back. He's still travelling on three, and will be out on injury for sometime yet. Enjoying the attention he's spending a lot of time lying at the back door, eager to hold his paw aloft for any interested passers-by.

Ella's enjoying having a houseyard companion, though her circle of movement doesn't radiate too far from the verandah. Her greatest risk of injury perhaps having her head stuck between the banisters.

The First Tuesday in November

2011-11-01T19:45:00.000+10:00

We take the Melbourne Cup rather seriously in these parts.

I couldn't tell you who won the race,

but

the food, the flowers, the fashion, the fascinators,

are all on display at our local P&C hosted luncheon

and also at school, where the students were able to dress in suitable race attire.

Sarah's school was also hosting a similar event, so she didn't entirely miss the fun.

{By the way, only one more sleep}.

A Quick Update

2011-10-31T07:45:00.001+10:00

Though we travelled home with a spare seat in the car and an empty chair now sits at the dining room table, the bulls still need feeding, the cow still needs milking, eggs need to be collected, dogs need to be run and preparations are underway for tomorrow's Melbourne Cup function our P&C is hosting.

The world has continued to spin as normal.

Though our little bit of 'normal' is momentarily somewhat unbalanced.

Two more sleeps.

Thanks everybody for your kind words.
{We left her with a smile on her face, heading for the pool with her new 'buddies'}.

The Times, they are a Changin'

2011-10-28T20:43:00.000+10:00

This Sunday, my big girl leaves for boarding school. As ever, the first-born is sent forth to test the waters, to pave the way for her siblings who will follow.

First day of a "residential transition" period, which continues through until Wednesday. Excited as we all are, for it marks the beginning of what I'm sure will be an amazing experience for Sarah, there is of course a tinge of sadness for this mother, and perhaps one younger sister in particular.

Sadness that she's growing up and moving on. Just as there was sadness the first day she was left at primary school, the beginning of a new life-stage inevitably involves the ending of another.

I well remember driving home from school that first day, Jessie, Wallace and Sally all strapped in car seats along the back seat. Having closed the gate and hopped back in the car, I looked back to see Jess with tears streaming down her face. And I think perhaps that sister will again be a little lost as next year unfolds.

We are some of the very, very fortunate ones, close enough to town that Sarah will have the option to come home every weekend. Of course, many don't. Those further afield leave their babies at school at beginning of term, only to see them again next holidays. So we count our blessings.

And Wednesday, Sarah will be home, to tell us all the tales of her first experience away.

And we will be happy. And proud. And grateful that every stage of this journey with Sarah has been an absolute delight.

Saddle on Up, and Mosey on Out

2011-10-26T12:46:00.000+10:00

This past weekend saw us indulge in a little stay-at-home catch up. For one day at least. The girls saddled up Saturday morning and headed out to gather cows whose baby calves needed ear-tagging.

After the first half hour spent complaining about having to wear helmets, we settled into routine with Sally calling the shots. Wallace (whose mare was out of action), chauffered me on the quad,

allowing me to survey the scenery, call directions to both dogs and children, and reprimand the boy for leaving the house in a short-sleeved shirt.

While Dad picked up round bales, we easily herded breeders, never far from the molasses troughs. With Sal taking the lead,

the older girls kept the tail wagging.

At some point, as they started moving off, Sally who had been relegated to the lead, because nobody else's horses like being in the lead, ended up in the middle of the mob.

Not quite the desired position for the lead rider. But a good giggle for Mum on the tail. And fortunately these old darlins were most accommodating, moving aside, letting her make her way back to where she should have been. Lucky Dad wasn't around.

This little bub was found in long grass not far from the mob, obviously planted there by her Mama.

We cut her Mama back from the mob, to leave her with her baby.

Unfortunately, she had other ideas and soon caught back up with us. Cow and calf were re-united later in the day, baby calves knowing to stay exactly where Mama puts them.

Everybody enjoyed being back on home turf, if only for a day of working cattle. Sunday we returned to Bottle Tree, put the remaining bulls out to work and were home very late, Sally lamenting the fact that we don't have real weekends.

What's more real than this, I say?

Pictures I Didn't Know I Had

2011-10-23T07:06:00.000+10:00

One of my birthday gifts was a small 'point and shoot' camera, small enough to slot into pocket or purse, perfect for those times when my big old camera is just a little on the cumbersome side. Due to the children indicating to both Nanny and Dad that I may have been dropping this hint for some time, and a slight communication technicality between the two, I now have two such cameras! We have since decided that one would be just perfect for Nanny.

And apparently my new Canon is just perfectly sized for small people. Here are just a sample of photos downloaded, none taken by me.

The Pierre de Ronsard, slowly creeping over the verandah, has just started blooming.

This beautifully shaped pear, caused shrieks and giggles every time the children entered the kitchen and witnessed it resplendant in the fruit bowl. We're big on 'bum humour' in this household!

A shot of Wallace's lunchbox, only half prepared. A handy keepsake! Possibly just proving to me that he did once take an apple to school.

Sal, surveying yet another of my hair-styles, a regular evening activity in these parts.

A blurry Jess, getting ready for school. Obviously dancing a jig at the same time, she'll do anything to get out of packing a lunch.

Dad, doing his thing. Please disregard dirty windows, an inadequate filing system and the stubby on desk.

From memory, this was dinner one late Sunday evening, having returned from Bottle Tree, tired cranky kids in tow.

This is where Sarah can usually be found, head in book.

When not fleeing the paparazzi.

Me.

Wallace has just started the sixth Harry Potter book. If I hear another 'imperio', 'accio' or 'avada kedavra', tales of death-eaters and dementors, or be explained the rules of quidditch one more time, I may not be responsible for my actions.

And finally, the GPS. I would never have thought to capture this memory.

Stay tuned for more kid-caught moments.

And So they are Here

2011-10-19T21:41:00.000+10:00

The kids have worn a path to Mama Pig's paddock these past few days. With Mama set to burst, the race was on to see which child would be first to raise the flag, tell the tale, spill the beans, or simply race huffing and puffing back to the house, blurting the news of the pig-a-lets.

At 5:17 this morning, Jess headed off. I watched her journey from the kitchen window whilst waiting for the kettle to boil. Two crossed arms raised in the air, in typical 'no deal' fashion, facing in my direction, indicated a no-show. At 6 o'clock, Sarah, for whatever reason headed off for a double-check. The pounding of her gumbooted feet could be heard thundering down the hill, the shrieking "there's a piglet, there's a piglet", signal for all kids to abandon breakfast and be gone.

Kicking and screaming, children finally were dropped at school, and over the course of the day Mama provided us with nine shiny new playthings.

Far more exciting than the lastest Wii accessory, I am hoping to re-claim my children sometime closer to Christmas.

Another Weekend Wrap

2011-10-17T08:25:00.000+10:00

With humidity levels soaring and temperatures much the same, we joyfully headed to our local swimming pool this past Friday afternoon, swelling numbers on the first open day of the season.

The high humidity has brought with it afternoon thunder storms, unfortunately only 10 mm falling at home, but much more at Chabo and Bottle Tree.

The pool was absolutely beautiful, and as always happens, nobody wanted to get out.

Stern warnings ensued, threats of 'never, ever, ever, ever' returning to the pool again followed,

until finally bribery by way of jelly-tip ice-creams meant they all came clambering for their towels.

This weekend, instead of harassing our own cattle, we drove hundreds of kilometres to bother somebody else's.

A 'fixed-time-AI program', saw us artificially inseminate 130 droughtmaster heifers Saturday afternoon. Our seven children toiled in the back-yards, keeping cattle up to us at the coalface.

I was given the cleanest task of keeping 'guns' loaded. These two lads helped, retrieving frozen straws from the liquid nitrogen tank.

Cattle and kids worked beautifully,

and in only a few hours we'd hopefully turned these maiden heifers into expectant mamas. We'll return in 35 days to preg-test, when all will be revealed.

Sunday we headed to Bottle Tree and Chabo,

where 40 mm of storm rain has helped push some green pick through.

Kids explored gullies that have been running all year,

tasting the very minerally water

and searching for living creatures.

This lone emu the most exciting sighting for the weekend.

With a La Nina weather pattern returning to the Southern Hemisphere, these babies should have a good headstart.

The kids have christened this Bottle Tree dam Swan Lake,

with black swans having been sighted here on our past couple of visits.

For a pleasant change, we made it home in daylight, though not everybody fully enjoying the scenic drive,

Mama Pig, who we'd thought may have provided us with a new round of play-things in our absence, provided nothing but great disappointment for the troops.

And so now the race is on each morning to see who will be first to discover when Mama does have her babies.

Dad's flown to Melbourne this morning to assist with some embryo work and kids are home due to a student-free day. There is mowing to be done and room tidying. Everybody's thrilled.

A Good Day

2011-10-13T10:08:00.000+10:00

Today marks the twentieth anniversary of my 21st birthday.

Just look at that blonde flicked hair. Farrah who?

I returned from my run this morning to the sight of four sleepy, smiling faces lined up on the verandah, shouting gleeful birthday messages. Dad had left at four, but did wish me a happy day upon departure, leaving only four to spoil me. Sarah made coffee, Jessie scrambled eggs. There was a card from my big girls:

Sally presented me with this hand-made neck-a-lace

that I'm going to wear out tonight with this little number pulled from the far recesses of the wardrobe.

Just the thing for an ICPA Dinner tonight. Purple's the new black. At least it was seven years ago when I bought it. Wallace in tears, explained he yet again hadn't made me anything. His sisters explained he had all day to make amends, with that he disappeared to return some short time later with this strikingly life-like miniature replica of myself, complete with string to hang from the rear-vision mirror of my car.

I'm just hopeful they don't start spearing pins into her when they're told they aren't coming out with us tonight.

Julie Goodwin's Never Fail Cake ...

2011-10-11T07:14:00.000+10:00

... can. And does.

Tipped upside down, smeared with icing, and doused in choc chips.

That never fails.

A Relaxing Weekend had by All

2011-10-10T12:05:00.000+10:00

Having returned home from the frenetic excitement that is bull-selling week last Thursday evening, Friday was spent dispersing molasses to demanding bovines. With the tank nearly empty, the molasses runs at dribble-pace into the trailer, stretching the job into a full day jaunt. Having found many new babies on my rounds, Saturday morning before heading for Chabo and Bottle Tree, I bundled all and sundry into the ute to take them on baby-inspection rounds.

We welcomed nine little additions during our absence, all resulting from an embryo-transfer program conducted some nine months ago.

This little snoozer fairly confident in his hiding ability. With neck outstretched he was sure we couldn't see him.

A poke from Matthew had him up, searching for Mama. He's a pink-nosed, red polled bull calf ... apparently all the rage at the moment. Of course, by the time he hits the sale ring, the flavour will have changed to green-nosed, triple horned bandicoots. That's just how we roll. About three paces behind the action!

We arrived at Chabo to find it looking an absolute picture.

Of the black and white variety.

Hold the white.

The lack of grass showing why we find it necessary to shoe our horses up there.

This old girl played a fairly pivotal role in containing the fire to Chabo and protecting Bottle Tree.

The boy child, most keen to have a ride back to the Chabo shed with Dad.

What is it with boys and noisy toys?

And so while the boys busied themselves with mechanical pursuits, the girls and I checked on some cattle. Many of these young heifers destined to grow out on the Chabo mountain, may have to wait for early storms to help pull some green pick through the blackened stones. The four inches of rain we received just over a month ago probably means there will be enough subsoil moisture to send some green up even without further storms. But with days heating up, we're looking forward to the rumble of thunder sometime soon.

With young stud cattle to weigh Sunday, Sal was flat out.

Thankfully slide gates also double as handy perches.

Sarah positioned herself as close to the crows nest as possible, her favourite position for drafting.

For those unaware, the crows nest is a raised platform above the main drafting yard, whereby gates can be opened and closed with the use of steel rods attached to the gates, meaning a person is not required to be in the main drafting yard (the pound), thereby much safer, particularly when employing child labour.

{picture from earlier in the year, no coats required this weekend}

I'm yet to be allowed a turn in the crows nest, my expertise apparently required on ground level.

These maiden heifers were taken out to meet Bryson, their bull. Although a few weeks earlier than we would normally put bulls out, it was convenient this weekend with several paddocks of cattle through the yards.

The horses are all back here at the moment, so mustering was done bike-back.

Fred the wonder-dog played his usual part of grumpy old know-it-all, especially when working with the kids. He really does lord it all over them. Won't listen to a word they say, heading in exactly the direction he believes the cattle should work. Fortunately he really does often know best.

Having seen several of his mates head out to work over the weekend, this old coot shot me some rather contemptuous glances as we drove away Sunday evening.

Never mind old mate, your turn's coming.

Matthew trucked home another seven bulls, destined for sale at Charters Towers come February. It was obviously bothering him that I'd had three days break from feeding bulls morning and evening.

And so another weekend came to an end, home by 8 last night, tired, dirty children and a box of KFC for dinner!

GO HEALTH!

A Lotta Bull

2011-10-06T21:52:00.000+10:00

We've finally made it home from the World's Biggest Bull Sale. In what could best be described as a tough sale, we've come home very happy with our results. A nice feeling. There've been many times in the past where the drive home has been a particularly long and sombre one. The presence of our bank manager on sale morning, wishing us all the best, left me wondering exactly what did he mean. I didn't see him again, but am hopeful he's sharing our joy.

The week ran not quite as smoothly as one would have hoped. Between backing and forthing to home to feed animals, Matthew received a phone call early Monday morning notifying us of threatening fire at Chabo and Bottle Tree. Matthew's immediate departure wasn't enough to save Chabo, but a couple of days of blading breaks and backburning has saved Bottle Tree. We returned Wednesday morning to doctor a prolapsed cow, only to find she hadn't made it. We'd obviously been enjoying our sale success a little too much, dead cows make great levellers.

The purchaser of one of the sale bulls returned to Bottle Tree today to inspect paddock bulls, and left with a full truck. A good week.

And now we're home. Back to school tomorrow.
"But Mum, who starts school on a Friday. We could help you with molasses runs. But Mum".!

Needless to say we're starting Term 4 on a Friday.

Nutritional Balance

2011-09-29T20:34:00.000+10:00

Despite the ever-presence of smoke on the horizon in recent days and weeks, and the impending threat of neighbourhood fires, we just weren't going to get away without having a marshmallow-toasting exercise these holidays.

The children have had their eye on a large pile of my pruning debris in recent weeks, and it seemed we could stall them no longer.
The resulting towering inferno really needed to be seen to be believed, flames leaping thiry feet in the air, causing plants in a nearby garden bed to wither and even Dad's recently acquired rain guage (Happy Father's Day) to melt considerably.

Several hours later, with chores completed, we were left with a pile of coals, perfectly conducive to expert marshmallow-toasting.

Of course, marshmallow toasting at dusk, whilst fun, is not to be recommended to those families who would like their children to eat a more nutritionally balanced dinner.

Sometimes though, we throw the rule-book out the window in school holidays.

Even Dad tried a few with a cold beer. Again, not recommended.

And so, with our fire safely extinguished, sticky fingers and bellies full of sugar, we retreated inside to review the food pyramid with the children.

Anyone Wanna Buy a Bull?

2011-09-27T18:25:00.000+10:00

Run, Forrest, Run

2011-09-26T16:08:00.000+10:00

I was that kid at school sitting on the benches while her classmates ran, jumped, hit, caught, leapt, cartwheeled, swam, threw, bowled, kicked or hurdled.
I was that kid with the Mum with RSI in her wrist from writing notes to the Phys. Ed teacher explaining why Fiona was unable to participate today.
"Could Fiona please be excused from Physical Education today as her knee is giving her trouble";
"Could Fiona please be excused from Physical Education today as she's not feeling well".

While the reasons behind my inability to participate in these sporting sessions are probably fodder for psycho-therapy, rather than a blog post, let's just say that in an attempt to right these wrongs from my past, the past three months I have participated in the 'Couch to 5K' challenge.

The program endeavours to haul couch potatoes from their lazy prostrate comfort zone, and have them running five kilometres (in thirty minutes), by the end of the nine week program. Whilst I have never considered myself to be of the couch potato ilk, I did have a healthy disdain for running, unless being chased.

In my youth as I drove into town, I would chuckle at the hordes of joggers pounding the pavements, lamenting the fact that they obviously didn't work hard enough in their day jobs. My physically intensive choice of work didn't leave leftover energy for the likes of purpose-less running.

And now while I still keep myself rather physically active in my day-to-day doings, middle age is contributing to a layer of padding around my middle that requires tougher strategies every year in an attempt to move it.

So, at 5:30 most mornings, I don the sneakers and head out to run four laps of our front house paddock. My attire has altered a little since I began, the Ariat lace-up work boots replaced by Saucony running shoes, the Akubra work hat replaced by a cap (aerodynamically superior), and the second glances by passing vehicles are not nearly as incredulous.

Living proof that you can teach an old dog new tricks, next year I'm thinking of swimming the English Channel.
Or maybe I'll stick to mastering the art of baking macarons.

Another Weekend Down

2011-09-25T21:12:00.000+10:00

We've been a little busy. Nothing new. And no complaints.

Bulls are being readied for sales in only a week's time, which means veterinary visits for semen-testing, muscle-scanning, and just because we like working under pressure, Matthew has decided to lift the vet-crush to install new scales. The vet-crush being the life-blood of this operation, it's even where I milk my cow, which won't be happening for some time at this rate. Cattle also work through the vet crush to the loading ramp, so bulls won't be leaving until installation is complete. And people will be taking their coffee black.

Carted more cattle to Bottle Tree yesterday, again young bulls had made their way into the breeders. After sorting, patching fences and returning bulls to their correct paddocks, one fight left a young bull with a broken back leg. He had to be put down. Makes a good, productive day end not so well.

We returned home with a load of heifers to be used as donors, signalling the start of the new breeding season, when the relentless rounds of needling to synchronise donors and recipients starts all over. Our recipient herd is now running at Bottle Tree and we will flush donors here and transport embryos to there before placing them in their new Mamas. Well-travelled babies.

Snakes seem to be in abundance this season, with one brown found in the shed this morning. I upset another earlier in the week, when he copped a dose of poison, meant for the lantana bush he was hiding under.

Our neighbours are trying valiantly to burn us out. Fire has slowly but surely been working its way through the ranges which adjoin us. It's been a very slow-moving fire and we have sufficient breaks in place to think it will stop before taking out too much of our country. The night lights have been quite beautiful.

And today, as reward for the hard work the children have been putting in, we headed south after lunch to enjoy a fishing spot. Something we talk about often, but rarely get the opportunity to do.

So as the sun set over Herbert Creek, we flicked lures and floated live bait in the hope of snaring a barramundi.

These Wagyu cows came down to keep an eye on proceedings

{Photo for Mare}

Dad was kept busy catching bait fish, with Sally on hand to jump on the lively little blighters.

Unfortunately, despite everyone's best efforts, our haul only included five catfish and two under-sized barra.

Thankfully, the person whose property we were on, had enjoyed a heavy haul earlier in the week and filled our esky with fillets upon departure.

A grand afternoon had by all.

A Happy Holiday Tale

2011-09-21T21:07:00.000+10:00

Once upon a time, four very spoilt children were gifted a Christmas Cubby House, built lovingly by their Grandfather, then painstakingly painted by their beloved Grandi.

The four very spoilt children loved their cubby house, but would only play in it when their Mummy was by their side. {Not the outcome Mummy was hoping for}.

Fast forward five years. The cubby has been used as a guest-house, general dumping grounds for unwanted items, repository for lost hats, shoes and socks and shade-source for the assortment of weeds growing beneath. Not so much as an entertainment cove for children.

Until these holidays.

When the girls took it upon themselves to spring clean and re-vamp the cubby, then reward themselves with a festive morning tea.

With nasturtiums and murraya as a fitting floral accompaniment.

Jessie's home-cooked mini-doughnuts, patty cakes and carb-loathing Mummy's rissole.

Mmmm.

Lucky Mummy.

Ruby, the pampered pooch was allowed to join the club,

and made herself right at home.

And so as the girls managed to fill in nearly an entire day in their cubby, Mum was able to slip away to complete molasses runs and poison lantana.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Jessie's Joke of the Day

2011-09-20T21:07:00.000+10:00

What did the farmer say to the cow with no milk?

You are an UDDER failure!!!

Cattle & Kids

2011-09-19T20:51:00.000+10:00

Some days it's just Cattle & Kids. Hold the Chaos.

Some days it's just Cattle. Hold the Kids. And Chaos.

A Weekend Review

2011-09-18T20:04:00.000+10:00

Dad spent the weekend trucking cattle between Rock Wallaby and Bottle Tree (or BeetleTree as we've taken to calling it ... I don't know why).
Wallace is in town with his grandparents learning the finer arts of fish-wrangling and crab-tying. Grandad insistent they may need to buy heavier guage rope, as baling twine just won't be strong enough to tie the monster crabs they're going to haul in. We'll wait and see.
So while Dad trucked and Wallace crabbed, we girls spent our time gathering and drafting cattle in readiness for the truck, keeping an eye on the gate, racing to the yards to help him load, ensuring a fast turn-around for the old Acco.
In between times we dabbled in a little cooking;

a little dog-washing;

with Ruby suitably unimpressed;

a little gardening;

including some short back and sides for some out of control shrubbery;

even a little overdue room-cleaning.

And finally, as I'm often prone to do, even my clothes-line threw its hands in the air at the amount of laundry we had to deal with.

Now, for two weeks of school holidays.

Bliss!

Hockey 1, Hockey 2 ...

2011-09-17T15:15:00.000+10:00

Thursday morning saw an early rise before we headed west to participate in the second annual inter-school hockey carnival for the three small schools in our region. Team sports are something of a novelty for these young students whose school populations unfortunately don't stretch far enough to produce 'teams'.

Our resident Policeman's wife, herself a much esteemed hockey player, very graciously offered to train our youngsters, equipping them with some valuable skills they'll be sure to take forward with them into secondary school.

With Junior teams (Prep to Yr 3) and Senior teams (Yr 4 to 7) playing, it was a long, hot day.

Wallace captained the Junior team to victory, then doubled up to play in the Senior team as well ...

and came home with a nice little memento for his efforts. (Mother head swell alert).

Sal was in Wallace's team, and so shared the spoils.

The Senior team was also victorious, but at the end of the day I think every child from every school came away having had a great, fun day.

Sarah's games were alternated between goalie and on the field. Quite the get-up.

Jess on the other hand was still quarantined and had been sent to town to Nanny's. Ending the week with another doctor's visit and perforated eardrum, we're looking forward to better days ahead.

I shouldn't have made her do that ironing.

In Sickness and in Health

2011-09-14T11:17:00.000+10:00

Last Friday I was called to the school to pick up one very sick young girl. Pale, listless and with a dreadful headache, she shouldn't have gone to school in the first place, but was adamant she couldn't miss hockey training. By the time I'd made it into the school, she was joined by older sister, also the colour of porcelain, and cold and clammy to the touch. Sarah has since recovered from what became a rather nasty head cold.

Jessie on the other hand has been granted an extension to school holidays which are to start this Friday, with a suspected case of Rubella. Although the worst of the 'sickness' seems to be behind her, she still has some rash appearing. Although vaccinated, there is apparently still a slight chance of infection occurring.

Fortunately, she's well enough to iron.

Meals on Wheels

2011-09-13T21:26:00.000+10:00

Despite a beautiful early break to the season, with four inches of rain falling a fortnight ago, we are still delivering this liquid gold to the girls.

and they love it.

Packed full of vitamins, nutrients and essential elements

it also tastes great.

Don't tell them it's healthy ...

and they'll eat it by the trough-full.

That Time

2011-09-11T19:42:00.000+10:00

It's that time of year

when babies pop up in the grass

like mushrooms after Spring storms.

That time of year when Mama cows

take turns sitting groups of babies.

It's that time of year

when children go missing ...

to be found atop the pig pen

or chook-house

foraging for ripe mulberries.

Where there's Smoke

2011-09-05T20:59:00.000+10:00

This past week started with four inches of glorious rain.
Which in turn led to every man and his dog in this part of the world dropping matches with the intent of clearing paddocks of spent, dead grass, much accumulated due to the bountiful wet season of 2010/11. As smoke billowed in every direction, my hands too began to itch, and I set about burning just a small patch of the horse paddock, to provide them with some fresh green pick.

As the flames roared and the wind howled and Matthew drove somewhere between Longreach and Blackall (some six hundred kilometres to my west), I began to wonder if I'd done the right thing. As my small patch of horse paddock fast became the entire horse paddock, the flames then engulfed the bull paddock and I decided the best course of action was to head to town to pick the kids up from tennis lessons. When it comes to the fight or flight response, I'm all about the fleeing. Upon our return, I was rather ~~terrified~~ amazed to see the fire had turned, sped past the house, engulfed an old caravan, lit up a tree, in turn melting an overhead power line, an above-ground poly line and was now heading in a southerly direction towards the hills. I hoped beyond all hopes that the coolness of the night air would be enough to quell the flames.

With power now cut to the house, the flames at least provided a comforting glow. As I imagined the level of dismay my southern neighbour would experience if fire approached his breeder paddock, I finally succumbed and rang Matthew. He was less than comforting. He did drive home, not so much to provide reassurance and support, but more to remind me of the rules of fire-safety and the hazards of careless actions. For which I was most grateful. It was just what I needed.

Twenty-four hours and countless tut-tuts from Ergon's finest later, power was returned. Albeit rather short-lived, with some careless actions from a grazier to our south causing a power-pole to burn out, cutting supply to the entire northern line. Such carelessness!

I'm sending Matthew over tomorrow to run through the rules and regs of Fire Safety, Prevention & Protection.

FOOD for Thought

2011-08-30T18:04:00.000+10:00

In 2012 Australians will celebrate the Year of the Farmer, a profession rather close to my heart.
And while most of the beef, grain, sugar, milk, honey, pork or egg producers I know would rather be left to go about their daily business without the scrutiny of anybody else, I would ask that every one of you who comes by my blog today, please take five minutes to watch this video.

It's astounding to think that the world population has doubled in my lifetime and in the next forty years will increase by another 50 percent. Astonishing to consider how we will feed this population, particularly as the space they will need to occupy will further impinge onto the very farming land needed to grow the food that will feed them.

A special shout out to Bushbelles where I first stumbled upon this video. She does an amazing job of broadcasting rural events, showcasing rural talent, achievers, personalities and promoting rural lifestyle.

A Wet Weekend

2011-08-28T21:15:00.000+10:00

On what would have been a better weekend spent sipping hot chocolate whilst the children massaged my feet,

listening to the three inches of rain we received fall on the roof,

we instead opted for the more rugged, outdoors aproach and headed to Bottle Tree to right some wrongs.

In our absence, with an apparent scent of Spring in the air, bulls had smashed several fences in their plight to rendesvous with maiden heifers and breeders alike.

So as the rain fell and the thunder rolled we worked cattle through the yards,

directing agitated, excited, fighting bulls back to their paddock for a further two months of purgatory, before our breeding season begins.

Testament to the mighty job they performed last season, babies greeted us at every turn.

Some, more noticeable than others

all assured of full bellies with this early break to the season.

Unfortunately this critter also put in an appearance, fortunate to be shot by the Canon only.

And while some livestock producers employ the services of Maremma sheepdogs to ensure the safety of their livestock, we're fortunate to have these low-cost girl children on the job.

Unfortunately, the boy child,

though armed, still hasn't fully realised the need to be in the same proximity as the cattle.

This baby of mine ...

2011-08-26T16:06:00.000+10:00

continues to have birthdays.

Yesterday was number 7 and everyone was out of bed early to share the joy.

Of course, there were cards to read,

and presents to open.

New clothes to try on

and toys to play with.

All before heading off for a day of school, where with a full student tally of 23, another young girl shares this birthday. Fortunately for Sally, the other little girl's Mum always brings birthday cake to school to share!

I was left with instructions for chocolate birthday cake for afternoon smoko, and dinner consisting of prawn cocktails, beef tacos and cheesecake to finish off. Plain cheesecake, no fancy schmancy cheesecake.

Who am I to question why.

And so with plain chocolate iced sheet cake begging for adornment, the kids set about using freckles, smarties, jelly snakes and marshmallows to create their own individual masterpieces.

Happy, happy day Little One.

All Style

2011-08-21T12:55:00.001+10:00

As much as one tries to purvey a sense of effortless style, my attempts are thwarted at every turn by those with whom I must share this abode.

They do things like this to my hair while I try to relax:

and then further assault my senses with signage such as this appearing on the toilet door:

In totally unrelated news, I yesterday successfully implemented my first 'Click & Collect' grocery purchase, meaning I may never actually step foot inside a grocery store again, a revelation bringing me much cheer. My huge order was placed online and then collected from the store, (a convenience only available in our regional town in recent weeks) where the lovely young lass even helped place said groceries in my vehicle. Bliss.

Unfortunately this quick trip to town resulted in some expensive damage to my car with a rock flicked from a truck onto the roof of my wagon, smashing the sunroof into three million segments. Why there is a sunroof in our four wheel drive wagon is beyond my reasoning also, but as Sally explained to somebody at school pickup Friday, "it'd be real handy for shootin' rabbits". Rather fortuitously we are currently experiencing an extended dry spell and hopefully the sunroof will be repaired before spring storms eventuate. Or possibly I'll use it as a rather valid excuse for the state of my windswept locks.

To any of my Western Australian readers, if you've seen a tall, dark cowboy-looking dude in your midst, tell him he should head home now. Guest speaker at a Food Festival lunch in the Gascoyne region of WA (east of Carnarvon I believe),

where he was sent to extoll the virtues of Brahman cattle. How if bred, raised and handled correctly, Brahmans do provide a wonderful eating experience and should no longer be stereo-typed as brindle, speary-horned and mad (no commentary from my wagyu-breeding friend necessary), although I will add that I enjoyed a Master Kobe Rump steak while visiting the Ekka.

In his absence I have rekindled my love-hate relationship with our irrigator, and am now more than ready for him to return.

Three quarters of my children are packing to head off on school camp tomorrow, leaving Sally most excited about the prospect of being an only child, if only for three days. With a birthday coming up later in the week, she can barely sleep with anticipation of the week ahead. And Daddy returns tomorrow.

And now I have lunch to prepare and an irrigator to shift.
Style ... who am I kidding???

Smell the Gumleaves

2011-08-17T08:12:00.000+10:00

We're home now.

And quite possibly we left a little spirit of the bush in the Brisbane CBD.
The knowing smiles and nods from the locals as we nervously negotiated trains, traffic and hordes of suits heading for their cubicles made me grateful we wore our hats. They served as a warning to all who crossed our path ... Beware, we don't know where we're going, we walk slowly, our children are loud and inquisitive, we don't know where we're going, our children are loud.

This was a shopping day, we girls left the hats behind.

Our first train adventure from City Central to the Ekka resulted in a very efficient trainsperson over the loud speaker advising any persons travelling to the Ekka to please depart this train at the next stop and catch the "Ekka" to the Exhibition. Thank you Sir, we believe you're talking to us. Lucky we wore the hats.
We've had a wonderful time. Museum (unfortunately experiencing much refurbishment). Science Centre (amazing).

Norman Hotel (Brisbane's worst vegetarian restaurant) ... highly recommended to anybody either visiting or residing in the area.

And of course, there was shopping. Joined by our beloved bargain-hunting Aunty Kirsty.

We walked more miles than we care to recall.

Exhausting.

Tiresome.

And then we went to Australia Zoo as we started the northern trek,

because we didn't feel we'd walked quite enough.

Beautiful birdlife.

Crocs.

Snakes.

After a night with Grandi and Old Nev, we returned home knowing there'd been a few issues in our absence. Breeders had knocked a gate down to be in with sale bulls. Other sale bulls, feeling left out had crashed their way through to join in the action. Undoubtedly a dust cloud could have been sighted over Rock Wallaby from Mars.

And now we're ready for work,

next holiday 2019.

Ekka Day 2

2011-08-13T08:06:00.000+10:00

What started as a super-Ekka-citing day, ended with a full crew of Ekka-hausted kids.

Ekka-11 over and out.

We are Here

2011-08-11T21:25:00.000+10:00

After a 3:30 am start yesterday morning, a drive which for half the trip included a smelly dog and for all the drive included some sibling dispute over appropriate personal space levels, we are here. At the capital. So high up in an apartment block that I have forbidden all balcony excursions by anybody sharing a surname with me.

Five minutes after heaving luggage to said apartment, I hauled somewhat recalcitrant children on a brisk three blocks south walk, followed by two blocks west to admire all that is the Queen Street Mall. Unfortunately my enthusiasm was not fully shared. I did manage to acquire a turquoise beaded necklace

(following the non-arrival of my previously ordered overseas delight), to find that the maker of such beaded delights was in fact a cousin to one of our much loved neighbours. Her delight at finding a fellow northerner did not extend to offering hugely discounted jewellery.

And today we headed to the

where the children started the day as auxillary crowd-fillers on the Today show;

watching Ruby Rubberlegs contort her body in such a fashion to fit it into that box slightly smaller than a fish-tank.

We then moved onto the judging arena where Dad was doing his thing:

which all took far longer than the children had anticipated.

A quick detour to Sideshow Alley and the Showbag Pavilion assisted in placating the restless mob. I will not be held responsible for any cattle's misbehaviour due to the bow and arrow wielding ninja who then appeared ring-side.

The discovery of fungee bungee

brought smiles to everyone's faces.

Tomorrow we're auditioning with Cirque du Solei.

Corned Beef, Craft & Cooking

2011-08-07T15:21:00.000+10:00

Not always having easy access to entertainment options, we bushies know a thing or two about making our own fun. After weather played a large part in cancelling local events earlier in the year, the P&C took it upon themselves to host a bush bash, providing a venue for the community to come together.

While corned beef boiled over an open fire, guests browsed the stalls of home-baking and crafts.

A myriad of sugar-laden goodies were on offer.

Caramel Popcorn,

an assortment of jams, relishes and chutneys.

Other treats, not home-baked.
And so with children energy-enriched, we had them sack-racing, three-legged racing and tug-of-warring.

As the dogs who'd been hauled to town for the dog-jumping hit the end of their chains in fear, the kids lined up for a whip-cracking competition vying for the title of loudest cracker or most stylish cracker!

Matthew, as compere of the day, wasn't quite brave enough to let this little fellow crack a feather out of his mouth, instead throwing it in the air and fleeing the scene.

Seven dogs vied for high-jumping championship, with our border collies having trouble matching the ability of the gigantic pig dog who will be heavily handicapped next outing.

Lola, daughter of Fred the Wonderdog ran a very respectable second.

Ruby couldn't match them. More training to come.

With our show being cancelled in April, the students' show work was judged and displayed.

Prize monies were hastily re-invested in lollies.

In line with our bush theme and meal of corned beef, vegetables and white sauce, a damper cooking competition provided not only entertainment, but also an accompaniment to the meal.

Matthew, aka Manu provided much instruction with his best French accent.

Cooked over coals, they were remarkably successful and all used as part of dinner. In Junior MasterChef fashion the kids also had a turn.

By nightfall all that remained was to dance. Exhausted children rallied to perform some bush dances rehearsed at school.

This area was transformed into a crowded dance floor until the wee hours of this morning.

Having only just returned from clean-up duties, we now look forward to our next adventure ... Brisbane here we come.

Bulls, Boots, Bush Dances and Brisbane

2011-08-03T20:25:00.000+10:00

When it comes to fashion

... I know a fair bit about cows.

For instance, I know this one's a bull.

I also know these babies

walked into my life very recently, and I wonder how I survived without them.

I also stumbled upon this beauty

draped rather unceremoniously across the back of one of Nanny's kitchen chairs, and had to have it. Destined for a life as a fishing shirt, I immediately siezed it for my own. Once belonging to my Grandma, I shall endeavour to give it a more fitting end to its life.

Teamed with this little embellishment

currently weaving its way across the Pacific, this little combo may even be sighted at next week's Ekka!

We head to Brisbane next Wednesday, full team in tow, to witness Dad's judging job at the state's greatest show.

Before then, we must survive this weekend's Bush Dance, proudly hosted by our local P&C, including whip-cracking, dog-jumping, damper-cooking and a meal of corned beef and veg, cooked over the open fire.

Swing your pardner, do si do, allamande left ....

A Bit of Everything

2011-07-20T20:23:00.001+10:00

There's been a fair bit going on around here lately.

The lucerne with its cover crop of barley is busily pushing its way through, reaching skyward.

Busy, busy little legumes.
I'm working two days a week at school this term, filling in for one of our beloved teacher aides who is embarking on a round-Europe tour. Poor her.

We've just recovered from last Friday evening's CQ Carcase Comp (the very one at which we were victorious last year), of which we are organisers.

After a P & C meeting today, we are now full steam ahead planning for a bush dance/markets/Xmas in August (?)/ in a couple of short weeks.

The kids at school seem to think that now I'm there as teacher-aide it's open slather on sleep-overs at our house. I sent last evening's little visitor to school this morning with a nasty gash under her eye. I doubt she'll be back.

We head to town this weekend with heifers for a stud sale Monday.

Thankfully the live export has re-opened and some confidence is returning to our industry.

We have two pigs and a heifer hanging in our cold room, and I'm about to start making snags.

A power outage today caused increased blood pressure.

Two dead pigs and a dead heifer hanging in a confined area require cold air, and thus electricity.

The power's on now.

All is well.