And the winner is...

Jeanie and I are watching tennis on TV.

Leighton is playing Roger - my two favourite tennis players belting it out... man, I love Wimbledon. One day, one day, I will be there cheering on an Aussie (or whoever) in the all-whites on that hallowed turf. One of my many dreams...

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Actually, Jeanie and I were brought up on sport - cricket, rugby league, tennis on the radio and sometimes a crackly, occasionally-colour telly. And we would follow the campdrafting, rodeo and polocrosse in the flesh. We are from competitive stock. Trophies from our forebears line the cabinets in the corners of the room in which we now sit.

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But our patriotic fervour was fine-tuned long-distance. We honed an ability to focus on the commentary from the couch or truck passenger seat, punching the air with a winning run, or hustling try, groaning with heartfelt pain when our team went down.

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Once, I would have thought nothing of staying up all night to cheer on my favourite rugby/cricket/Olympic team (Wallabies, Kangaroos, Socceroos, Matildas) or tennis player or swimmer or yachtsman... you get my drift. I'm an Aussie to my core. And Aussies love sport. But tonight I'm conceding defeat.

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Not to Roger Federer. Cool groover though he is, I still have some money on our feisty little Leighton to pull something out of the hat (Come On!!).

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No. I conceded to fatigue. To motherhood. To my hectic country life. To the mountain of chores on tomorrow's to-do list. My sporting thirst will need to be sated by tomorrow's headlines.

...

Life - 1

Bush Babe - 0

The Great Escape...

I was trawling through my archives of unused images today (read here: great enormous drifts of jpeg files floating around my hard drive) ... and chanced upon some little snaps...

Remember back when we were providing the support crew for SSB as he manfully chainsawed a giant tree from a fence at the dipyards? Back when Dash discovered the most amazing piece of (as yet unutilised) Cirque de Soleil equipment right there in the yards?? Well, today's little by-play (in the following vignette) took place just before the Granite Glen circus act got underway...

The bush is an amazing place to live - especially when you are a kid. You only have to look closely at the nooks and crannies around you to chance upon the most incredible things. This could just be any old timber gate, anywhere on the property. But it's something else as well...

It's home to this little fella. He had been peacefully resting from his hard morning of doing whatever the hey snails do. And then Dash discovered him. And his life became something out of a shell-life horror movie.

Giant (well to a snail) human fingers poked and prodded, desperate to GET AT HIM. Loud voices called and encourged and cajoled and threatened him to COME OUT.

And then, after a small lull with lowered voices included an older female voice (suspiciously like Dash's mum, actually) a trail of leaves were strategically placed to tempt him out into open terrain.

This snail was not stupid though... he sprinted (at the alarming rate of around one centimetre/minute) DIRECTLY UP. Still out of finger reach.

And away from whatever the hey poison was on those blessed leaves.

Luckily for this little snail, Dash spotted this in the yard next door.

And the rest, as they say in the classics, is history.

Big Smoke (and a PS)

Recently, we had an unexpected trip to the Big Smoke.
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The kids, SSB and I enjoyed the chance to catch up with some (city-based) family and the change in scenery. And the chance to dress up like the city folk we used to be...

Hello trendy dude and dudette!

We also had to try to remember the rules and regulations and signs and signals that city life (and waiting for the City Cat) brings...

Stay behind the yellow line... or else!

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And then we clambered aboard the catamaran-ferry and held onto our berets and drank in sights like this...

Hello Teneriffe - I remember you well!

And the city and the Story Bridge (there is a pub nestled under that bridge that could tell you a few SSB and BB stories!). But they are not for little ears...
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And then we alighted (alit?) and walked past trendy places like this...

before choosing a spot to Do Coffee (and babycino's and study the offerings of our capital city).

Hmmmm...

It's also VERY trendy to order toast and honey at your slick city cafe... TLW finally recognised the slabs of grilled soda bread as 'toast' and deigned to eat. While taking in the passing parade with unblinking eyes...

...

We did a few other (unphotographed) things before packing our bags.

TLW and Dash said they had a good time, and like the "fairy" well enough. But there were no puppies there. Or ponies. Or baby bulls. So we came home.

The End

BB

PS The tests came back: negative. Yay!

Words weavers

The Amazing Shirley, at Rhubarb Whine, recently did a beautiful post on the love of language. It rang true with me… while I’m not into the type of verbose prose that numbs one’s brain into submission, I do adore the English language. Weaving wondrous word-spells...

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I play fast and loose with it of course. (Alliteration is my particular soft/weak spot). That’s my nature – I’d rather express than repress. Some people worry about getting tenses correct and their similes set just so, but not me. If I like it, and feel it, down it goes. That means that I mangle things at times. More often than not, I have to re-edit these posts because I wrote and pressed 'Publish Post' before proofing properly (and goodness me, I heart Blogger for this luxury! Much easier to fix up than already-printed newspapers!). It is why, despite my professed desire to be an architect as a teenager, I ended up right where the Good Lord intended. Writing. Sometimes I get it right. Sometimes not. But it always arrives with enthusiasm and passion. Not always well thought-through, but nonetheless truly felt!

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I thank my parents for this joy - my mother for urging me to explore and read and use it (and do it correctly, eh Jeanie?), and my father for his fabulous sense of adventure with it. (And bugger the consequences!)
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I encourage my kids to dive in and explore words too. To not be afraid of them. To let their tongues wrap around the unfamiliar and try it on for size. (And mix a metaphor or two!).
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And sometimes they hit the mark, sometimes not. Sometimes they try and use words that are beyond them. And the results would have to be the cutest thing ever. Especially when combined with some of their little speech impediments.
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I thought’d I share a little sample of the word weavers at work here at Granite Glen. Starting closest to home:
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Me
My mother always reminds me of my favourite saying as a 3-year old…
“I’m holping Mommy!” as a serious tot who was her Ma's right hand girl.
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Pagi (my Dad)
My father always keeps us on our toes with his Pagi-isms. Words like “thriple” for triple, “fastiduous” for fastidious, “those Desperado Women" for Desperate Housewives (and yes, he does watch it with me on occasion!). And he says them with the straightest face in the world. (He might be overly adventurous in the language department, but the man is also the best proof-reader a girl could have. All errors on this site are found on posts not read by him!)
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Dash
When he was learning to talk (he was an early talker and late walker) his gems included:
“I talka your face?” meaning he wanted to whisper in your ear. Best copied in an Italian accent.
“I go blacklids!” – i.e. backwards

"My be-ah! My be-ah!" (pictured above)
“Come and sit next aside-a me”, an invitation no-one could refuse. "Ready, teddy, go!" usually uttered aboard the late, lamented Cosmo (also called "Smo-Jo" by one of Dash's cousins).

A visit to the favourite fast-food restaurant is a trip to "Ha'McDonalls" (and there is a song called "Ha'McDonnall had a Farm") ...think 'Old MacDonald Had a Farm' and 'We are going to have McDonalds' ... got it?

And his latest: “You know, I really LOVE mathalatics!” Perhaps more of a number cruncher (should that be mathelatition?) like his Dad!

The Little Woman
My daughter has been recently assessed by a speech pathologist at Kindy, and given the all-clear for her age-appropriate mannerisms. Darn but they are gorgeous… and I’m in no real hurry for them to disappear! Here we go:

Of course my girly girl is constantly on a bout her “La, La, La – Wipstick!” and “Naiw powish”.
One phrase guaranteed to allow access to my mother’s compact and lipstick: “I do wuv you Nana!”

My Dad would always greet her with the (Jerry Lee Lewis?) “Hellllllooooo Baaaabyyy!” to which she would (without fail) reply: I not a baby! I’s a BIG GIRW!!! Accompanied by fierce look. Like this...She is extremely protective of her big brother and will fly at anyone looking like they may hurt him with the cry: “That’s my brudda - don’t you hurt my brudda!!”

Or if someone says something she really doesn't like: "Stop it! That is a 'wear word!"

Then there is: "Mummy I DO wuv fwogs you know!"

A night-time regular is her request/demand for one of her most loved food offerings ever: vanilla icecream with chocolate topping. In TLW-speak: Chopping Icing.

But my current favourite is this one, when I have done something to please her: “Mummy, I’m berry proud at you!”

That’s just a sample of course… each day brings more of these little language pearls. Little tongues being totally adventurous, exploring and trusting...

What do/did your kids say when they were little? You? I’d love to hear and share the joy of those early experiments in English… or Aussie, or Kiwi, or American or French or whatever language you grew up with!

In imagination, inspiration and incredulity!
Irrevocably yours...
BB

One Little Woman. Lots of Little Bulls.

It's weaner handling time here at the Granite Glen house. I would call it a homestead, but that would make it all sounds a bit ...grand. So instead of something grand, you need to clear you mind of anything remotely McLeod's Daughters-ish. (I adore the humongous stone buildings in that show, but they are so far from typical of a Queensland homestead it'd blow your mind! )

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Instead, imagine a big rambling, many-times-but-not-in-the-last-20-years renovated weatherboard house. Now imagine a couple of big corrugated iron sheds sitting behind the houseyard, overlooking a river bed. Now imagine some big, solid timber yards hugged between these shed and hemming the largest. Now imagine over 100 'adolescent' Brangus bulls milling around impatiently in these dusty yards each day. Waiting for me. Well, waiting for me to bring them some hay.

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To back-track a little, calves are 'weaned' from their mothers at around six months of age. They bellow for a bit, but soon calm down when they realise the tucker is on tap (i.e. hay - and lots of it - is available 24/7). And as their mum is usually in 'up the duff' again (in calf) everyone settles down quickly and concentrates on what cows do best: eat.

That's it mate - get into it!

You know that's a bit high, little fella?

Ever seen a bull stand on tippy-toes?

This could be messy!

Hello spaghetti face!!!

My daughter looks just like this about 6.30pm...

And do you remember how the boys took the young weaners out for their very first solo drive (not taking the wheel of the nearest ute, silly. Drive as in droving, as in, walking in a mob). We gave them all merit certificates for exemplary behaviour. (OK not actual certificates so much as grass and lots of it, on tap).

Well, all the little boy weaners (the ones that didn't lose their ahem manhood at branding time) get to home back to the Granite Glen house. Here I 'handle' them - which means I spend time with them, letting them understand that humans are good and to be trusted. I talk their talk and give them lucerne hay (i.e. the good stuff). And it's the best way to assess them - I get to be the school marm. Sorting out who are the 'stars', who are the 'could do betters' and who are the 'recalcitrants' (in the words of one of our ex-PMs). It's one of my favourite jobs of all.

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And this year, I have a little off-sider. While Dash is at school, TLW helps me with the handling. This is Day 1 of our first lot of bulls (we have more than 100 to handle). Most three-year-olds might be excused for being a little nervous around animals a good 10 times bigger than them. Let's see how she went (and please ignore the birds nest that is my daughter's coif - I did!):

OK, the first ones are up and checking out the green booty. TLW stands a good three feet away.

(NB Check out 150 - he's a honey! We'll be seeing more if him, mark my words. Now is also a good time to point out that all our animals are numbered rather than named - we will love 150 just as much as if he was named Jerry. It also makes the bookkeeping a bit more logical!)

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Time for some hands-on action. I have been feeding the bulls beside TLW and she has used every shred of patience she owns to not get cranky when the animals choose to eat from my sheaf rather than hers. Every single shred. 'Patience, patience darling' I keep chanting. Finally one sniffs her offering and then, as I shush my daughter so as not to scare the slightly nervous bovine away, it gently takes a bite. She whoops, jumps up and down in excitement and the crowd scatters.

But now she has the hang-onto-that-sheaf-with-two-fists thing happening. This is less than 5 minutes into the first session and she's got it. Good girl! And yes, that's #150 again getting up close and personal - give that boy an A+ for temperament! Another 20 minutes into our initial encouter with group 1, and TLW sorts out some more sheafs for the milling mob. She is chatting furiously - 'this one is hungrier Mum', 'Pardon YOU bull! when one burps loudly 'Grabbing is rude' to another who grabs a big mouthful and pulls the sheaf from her hands - but most of the bulls seem to be completely unconcerned with the constant narration from the fuzz-nut midget in their midst.

Of course, some are still playing hard to get. Looking around all nonchalant like 'What? Me? Us?' Naughty little recalcitrants! Definitely in the 'must try harder' class. And number 11 - don't think I can't see you back there! You will be sitting beside #150 tomorrow, my friend!

Speaking of whom... hello Class pet!!!

But the the winner of Student of the Day goes to TLW.

That's my little woman!

Why Am I Here?

It's a question that's been asked about this blog...
both to my face and elsewhere!

And I think I should answer it, right here, right now...

Why do I blog?

Why do I choose to share my life with the world at large?

Why put myself and family out there?

They are good questions really... worth asking.

Because by nature I am a reasonably private person.

My husband is even more so.

We're not the kind to go places and cry out "Look at Meeeeee!".

Not even after a few quiet ones...

And I have seen enough of the world to know there are crazies out there who could take the information I share and try to do something weird with it...

And yet, here we are.

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My sister had tried to talk me into doing a blog for ages, but although it was clearly a fabulous outlet for her poetic and language talents, to me they seemed a bit well, navel-gazing and time-wasting (oh, Dear Lord, how right I was!). But then she sent me to the Pioneer Woman's site and I saw how well Ree captured and shared her little corner of the world. How she used her amazing photos to share and inspire. Now I don't include myself in the same league as PW. The woman is funny and talented and apparently needs no sleep at all. But still I thought: I can try that, it might be fun (and I was right!).

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To be honest, waaaaay back when I started this speck on the Internet landscape, I really saw it as just somewhere to file my photos. Perhaps a place for my kids to come one day, to see what Mummy had been up to, what life was like when they were little. A glorified photo album, if you like.

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But as I have gone along, muddling my way through Blogger and the gazillion passwords I seem to need, this blog seems to have morphed into something else.

The focus has changed a little. A bit more of “me” is there.

And I have also become aware that many people I know in my day-to-day life visit here. Some have been invited, others have stumbled on me. At first I was a bit self-conscious and then I adjusted - I’m well and truly outed and I choose to live with it.

Embrace it even.
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Not many of my locals or friends leave comments (yet) but they come and check in. Sometimes they ring me and tell me they like my little “place in space”. That’s sweet. Some look and say nothing. That’s cool too. Not everyone is as at ease with the concept of strangers looking in on our corner of the world as I have become.

And I'm betting many don't realise I can see their visits through the wonders of modern technology... heh heh!

Hello guys!!!

Hey Mum!

Love y'all!
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Don’t get me wrong, I used to worry about it – putting myself out there. What if neighbours judged me on my naivety or got offended if they were mentioned, or maybe if they were not mentioned? What if there are paedophiles or freaks looking? But I got over it. Only those close to us really know where we live, and people who have actual directions still have trouble finding their way here, so I reckon we’re OK. Anyone who has found me through questionable searches (again, thanks to my stat counter for this snippet of info) seems to head off as soon as they realise it's not THAT kinda site.

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Oh, and the neighbours? They are pretty straight-up, and are unlikely to let me get away with anything! So I'm sure I'll get a roasting if I step outa line!!

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But this blog offers lots of unforseen opportunites too.

For instance, I love the concept that city people...

...can taste a little country... ...and even if they find it different and foreign to their own lives, they can see that we have much in common with them too. (After all, I was a city slicker for a good two decades!). 'My' city folk come from the beach and a few of our Big Smokes, and even from Canberra. I hope that by giving you a small window into our world, then city and country can draw a little closer together somehow. It's really something that excites me (I know, I know, I get excited easy!)

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And it seems that even those of your from the other side of the world can taste a little slice of Australia without having to actually brave the snakes and goannas first-hand! There seem to be many return visitors from overseas - especially America and Canada. I have no idea why you keep on coming, but I love it!

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And I quite like the idea that people I may never otherwise meet, but who may have walked a little of the same road, crawled through the same tunnels, clambered over the same hurdles, as I have may get to see what “happens in the end”. I might be able, in my simple little way, to help.

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But when push comes to shove, I still want this blog to be somewhere my kids can visit and see who their Mum was... and is.

How much she loved them.

How much she loved her part of the world.

How her SSB helped make their lives complete.

How bad her taste in music was.

How lovely her friends (both local and online) are.

How much she reveled in recording her day-to-day life, and got joy from the little things.

She wasn’t always like that.

And she’s nowhere near perfect.

Hopefully, that’s part of what makes her a bit interesting.

Because it's how I look through these eyes that really matters...

And these eyes...

And I cannot forget these eyes (NB that shiner was not my fault!)

Oh, and her eyes too!

Hey there Yvette, yeah you too!

Love you girl!

So I guess I blog because of them, and because of my Nikon and because I can...

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What do YOU like about my little blog?

And to keep the balance, what do you dislike, and what would you like to see more/less of?

Let me have it, friends!!

Signing off from Granite Glen...

and my little speck on the Internet.

BB

PS I am trialling this new font colour on advice from this post... what do you think? Easier to read??

Real Little Dogs...

Remember this little guy?

Hello Roley! Smile for the camera, man...

Well he and his black brother (hey there Pitch) have graduated from "babies" to "real little dogs" - at least that's what SSB said when he saw them this week...

with their BRAND NEW COLLARS on.

TLW helped fit them to their wriggly little owners.

Ahhh... there we go!

Puppy (I mean Real Little Dog) smiles...

:-)

Me, me, meme...

Thanks to Alison, I have girded myself to share some vital statistics … not that I'm into navel-gazing too much. Like, you're not going to find out how much I weigh, for instance. Or what brand of toothpaste I use.

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But it's really got me thinking about what I find interesting... and I plan to start my own Meme shortly with questions about stuff I’m really into… so brace yourself, friends.

In the meantime I will attempt to:

• Answer 6 questions about myself
• At the end of the post, tag 6 people and post their names
• Go to their blogs and leave them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read my blog
• Then, I must let the person who tagged me know when I’ve posted my answers

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Places I have Lived

1. First 12 years of life, right here, at Granite Glen
2. Five very long years at a girls-only boarding school;
3. Moved to Brisbane for an attempt at studying Architecture (18 months);
4. Back to Granite Glen for six months while I sorted myself out;
5. Two years in beautiful Toowoomba, studying Journalism.
6. Off to western NSW to work as a news photographer (and have the time of my life);
7. Back to Granite Glen to help my Ma through some health issues;
8. Off around the world for a few months to spend as much money has humanly possible (OK, maybe not, but as much money as I had anyway!).
9. Back to Granite Glen (to sort myself out);
10. Off to the Sunshine Coast to work as a photojournalist (and have the time of my life) for six years;
11. Moved to BrisVegas to see how much I loved commuting back to the Sunshine Coast each day (not, as it turned out!);
12. Moved around Brissy a bit then in with SSB, after finally deciding he was The One.
13. From suburbia to nearer the Beach with SSB and Dash.
14. To Granite Glen 18 months ago with SSB, Dash and TLW. (Whew!)

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Like Jeanie, I have worked out some stats…

I have lived in 5 different towns/cities, in 16 unique locations (not counting all the Granite Glen stop-offs along the way, and the overseas bits) with 19 moves in total!!! Makes me tired just thinking about it!

What I Was Doing 10 Years Ago

In 1998 I was living in Brisbane and I was 31 years old. My memory isn’t great about actual dates of various moves, so I’m thinking it was either a great old Queenslander in Morningside, or one in Wooloowin (share/rentals) ... had great parties at both (I was a big party-thrower in my day). I was commuting an hour each way, each day to Caloundra. I was independent and in love, loved my job and the world was my oyster. I was very self-involved, but I had no realization of that at the time. I'm a much 'more rounded' person these days - I was a good 20kg lighter back then!

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Five things on my to do list today

1. Tidy hideous mess on side verandah (kids play room)
2. Washing (this is ALWAYS on my to-do list)
3. Mow lawn (except the mower is not here!)
4. Cut up enormous pineapples given by our latest GG visitor
5. Possibly attend local campdraft.

Chances any/all of these things being ticked… next to nil. 3 and 4 have a shot. The rest will stay on that whiteboard for another day or so. Except the campdraft... just gotta talk SSB into being social! (PS Tick off 1, 2 and 5. Well almost. Kinda.)

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Snacks I enjoy

• Ice Break (I’m an addict and not proud of it!),



• Salt & Vinegar chips,
• Hazelnut chocolate (dark if possible)
• Fresh home-made sausage rolls (I pretend I make them for the kids)

• Tapas
• Antipasto
• Actually pretty much food from anywhere in the world!

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What I would Do if I was a Billionaire?

(besides jump around like a looney)

• Regularly check the bank account to see if it was real.
• Ah, pay off loans and bask in non-dependence on banks.
• Pay off family’s loans (my family, not the mafia).
• Make sure there are no prickles at my son’s school (post on this to come).
• Send my parents on trip to Wimbledon, grab my mother’s house plans, and get a new house built for them while they are away (to relieve them of stress).
• Put masses of money into research about congenital heart conditions to find out WHY they happen.
• Get some amazing Brangus genetics and build an even better herd here at GG.
• Put a deck on GG house.
• Get a cleaner and a gardener.
• Take photos full time.
• Write a book.
• Get the back light fixed on the Prado.
• Send lots of food to Africa.
• Give every city family a free all-expenses paid holiday at a real cattle/sheep property for a week a year - and build some serious bridges between the Big Smoke and the Bush. City kids need fresh air and down-to-earth reality checks about where their food comes from. Their parents could do with a gentle reminder too.
• Travel with kids to America and Europe.
• Work out how to use Flickr.

I’m sure that doesn’t even touch it 10% of it… but I would invest the remainder, and then work on how to spend the rest of it!!!
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People I Would Like To Know More About
You all!! I’ve bared my soul guys - in fact I feel kinda naked with all my dreams and past hanging out there like that…
Tell me about YOU in the comments, please!!

Mystery solved: Things that make you go hmmmm...

Did you figure out my little mystery yesterday?

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Looked kinda like a honeycomb pattern, didn't it?

With a wonderful deep, luminous amber hue shining through...

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Really beautiful in a way only Mother Nature can be...
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In a reptilian kinda way...

It's a snakeskin, found near our loading ramp, just 20 metres from the house.

It's fascinating, all soft and light and supple...

And very, very long... see how it's in three separate pieces? When it's all added up together it's almost seven feet (well over 2 metres) long. And that's dried. Who knows how big it was when it was 'fresh'? I'm not at all sure I want to be enlightened... (Notice how Lacie, in the background of the above pic, doesn't seem too concerned. She knows the previous owner of that skin left yesterday! And if she hangs around long enough, the odds of getting a sheaf of hay increase exponentially. Whatever that means...)

Dash want to check it out. He knows this will be a killer exhibit at Show and Tell.

TLW is a bit more reticent. It might look all safe and uninhabited but she has her mother's natural cynicism. She'll let Dash give her the all clear first!

'This thing is LONG... look Mum!'

(Anyone else notice that it is actually way longer than my little man?)

'Let me try! Look Mum ... it's 'mazing!'

I'm no Steve Irwin... and this thing kinda gives me the shudders. I'm trying to make this a salient lesson in "Why You Should Never Play Near the Loading Ramp on Your Own".
I can't get past the concept:

"A SNAKE USED TO LIVE IN THAT!"

But the kids are too fascinated to really understand what their Ma is carrying on about. To them it's just totally 'mazing. SSB thinks this skin maybe belonged to a black-headed python, like this ...

...who can grow to three metres (almost 10 feet) are not venomous and considered 'good' snakes as they actually hunt and eat other snakes...

Hmmmm....not giving me the warm and fuzzies yet.

But at least they aren't, like, the deadliest snake in the world. Not like this Fierce snake we had visit our little local show here a couple of months back...

Or this lovely black snake I spotted sunning itself on the road just a couple of kms from Granite Glen a couple of weeks back... Like I say, I'm not snake expert but it is possibly a black tiger snake (or yellow-bellied black)... which are no slouches in the venom stakes. I certainly wasn't going any closer to ask if it was friendly or not...

In case you haven't guessed, we are quite some way from a hospital.

And anti venom.

And all this just makes me wonder...

Who exactly owned that lovely silky calling card hung delicately over the branches of the bottle brush tree earlier this year?

The one RIGHT NEAR OUR FRONT DOOR!

So, now you understand why I am pretty good at checking corners and curtain rods and showers and branches for signs of untoward and uninvited slitherin'. Lucky I'm not the nervy type!
Hugs

BB

PS Have I told you the story about the time a taipan came in through the window towards Dash on Day 2 at Granite Glen... no?? We might save that story for another day. Don't know about you but I need a cuppa/scotch-and-dry and a good lie down now!