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31 July 2008

Away with Dash...

Next week, Dash's school goes away on camp. Almost all of his classmates (about 15 others from years Prep through to Seven) are camping out for four days and nights.
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SSB and I have decided Dash is just not old enough yet to head off for many nights on end without us... he's only six years old!!! After all, it was just yesterday (I'm sure!), that we were watching him learn to walk... and the day before that... well, that doesn't bear thinking about these days. We are just up to handling sleepovers... and I'm not just talking about Dash here. Although he does freak slightly at the concept of being somewhere we (or an adult closely related to him) is not.
...
So instead, we are spending a couple of days having our special "kid time".

We are hitting the road, Jack (Among Dash's current favourite songs)...


And on previous similar outings, we have done things like whale watching.

Like riding boats, fishing ...

and feeding dolphins.

This was a pretty amazing experience, during which one set of enormous brown eyes almost popped out of his little head.

It was almost as much fun as fishin' with his Dad...

The boy can fish... his Mum loves eating fish. Not so much the actually sport that precedes that event. Or the cleaning of said fish...

But my Dash, he thinks it's huge fun! And the little possum catches them whenever he hooks a line... he has yet to be disappointed with a still line. Who knows why... he has actually been known to give away some of his catch to other less fortunate anglers. SSB is as bemused as I about our son's success with a fishing line.

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Me? I love watching him fish. Watching our kids play with their Dad as he relaxes away from Granite Glen, and the million chores that await him back home. I love seeing our friends, the people from our city life who take time from their own hectic lives to catch up with their mad gone-country mates. Seeing the people we knew as wild single 'youngsters' who now have settled too, with their chosen mates and their growing families.

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It's a pretty special time in our lives really. A time where we make ourselves stop for a day or so, and assess our status quo. And savour the little milestones those special to us have achieved. The few centimetres our kids have grown. The burgeoning bellies of mums-to-be-again. The increasingly fanciful recollections of 'the good old days'. And the sharp (sometimes sleep-infringing) reminders of just how much our lives have changed over the last ten years. For better and worse.

Does it mean you're spoiled, if you know how lucky you are?

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This year we are combining a visit to Australia Zoo, where Dash is quite sure that he will finally get to meet Bindi the Jungle Girl... Once upon a time (in my previous life as a newspaper hack) I had some connection with the fabulous Terri (and the irreplaceable Steve)... indeed I fondly remember taking photos of them the day they announced their pregnancy with little Bindi. But that was almost eleven years ago, and I doubt that I have any pull these days in helping my son meet his little heroine. I somehow imagine that the days of me rocking up to the front desk, giving my name and being met with a big American grin and a "How ya goin' girlfriend!" are gone... things have gone from small and intimate to big and corporate in that neck of the woods! (And good luck to them!).

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And we also planning on a brief look at the Ekka... a fabulous hotbed of rural people, animals, sideshow alley and the dose of citified flu. So I am facing either a massive double-whammy of excitement and delight...

...or crashing disappointment and illness.

...Wish me luck!

30 July 2008

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday... Ironbark Sentries

At some angles, the trees through which our 'driveway' winds appear random, wild, haphazard...
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They are called ironbarks, planted by Mother Nature many years ago.

Stern, stalwart, steady.
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And then, when you look at a certain angle....
it becomes startlingly obvious that...

Mother Nature is the original landscape architect...

29 July 2008

Little Woman, Big Cowgirl.

The Little Woman went for a ride this week.

She loves horses.

She loves to ride.

But she had never been out in the paddock before.

So, as the sun finally shared it's warming rays, and Rob Roy allowed himself to be saddled up (let me tell you it's a looooong way down under that belly to grab the girth) TLW clambered aboard with gusto!
Hmmm... those stirrups look a little short.
She could be a jockey down the track, but let's not start off with knees around ears!
And please try to ignore the bird's nest in TLW's hair. I am.

That's better... out of the houseyard and gather up those reins as Daddy leads his darling daughter on her mighty steed off on a mustering adventure...

OK they were just getting the little bulls in from the house paddock, but it's all grand adventure when you are three!!

Does anyone else get struck by the enormous height difference between Trooper and Rob Roy? They are easily the tallest and shortest horses at Granite Glen... I think Rob Roy actually has more HAIR than his big chestnut buddy, just over a very confined area!!!
Not that TLW cares a jot...

She's the Queen of the World when she is riding...

And also the biggest chatterbox in the world... apparently she didn't SHUT UP the entire time they ambled around the paddock. She doesn't get this from SSB, I can tell you. So I guess that's me coming out in her... she sure can hold up her end of the conversation, this one.

Heh heh.

She's also quite the showgirl... note the "marking out" pose here as Rob Roy and Trooper head downhill to push the bulls through the gate. Anyone would think RR had just put in a huge buck. Ten points for flair, girl!

Righto, job's done. Chattering still going ten to the dozen. SSB's ears hurting, I suspect. But he's being brave and throwing the odd "Really?" and "That's good" over his shoulder.

I didn't hear it, but I suspect that's what's happening. He may have done it to me on the odd occasion! *Sighs dramatically*

I wonder if my darling little girl enjoyed her fist Big Cowgirl ride??

She's contemplating things... pondering her response to Mummy's inevitable debrief session.
Was that good fun??

That would be an affirmative... one happy little cowgirl!

28 July 2008

Mystery winner... and some philosophy!

Thanks to everyone for playing my Mystery Photo this week!!
And we have a winner... the answer...drum roll please!

... is WATER CRYSTALS!!!
Well done Julie from Australia!!
While I do admit it looked quite like ice, like where some yobbo emptied the esky after a big barbie (have we lost any Americans yet?) the "things" featured in this image are actually a water-saving tool for Aussie gardeners.
...
Julie is apparently as garden-savvy as me (she told me so!) and she too relies on water crystals, to make up for the lack of constant water on her garden (well, this is all just assumption, this is actually what I do in my poor neglected flower patch).
Water crystals, for the uninitiated, resemble sugar crystals when dry and are dug into normal garden or potting soil to assist in water retention.
Shocking things happen when children and water crystals come into contact however...
Like unnoticed handfuls get left adjacent to actual garden beds. Then it rains. And weird jelly-like "ice" appears in unexpected locations. Like this...
But it gets worse.
If said children grab handfuls of crystals and stuff them in their pockets the result after a bout in the washing machine is not pretty! Jelly ice through clothes and the machine... yeeeeaaaahhhhh!!!
...
And in something not completely unrelated...


How is that children are that little bit more loveable when fast asleep, and the view so much more delightful when the heaven's have opened??

Some more of life's little mysteries...

BB

27 July 2008

Mystery Photo ... who will win?

Here is this week's mystery image...
Can you tell me what it is?

The closest guess wins a standing ovation from BB readers (go you good thing!), plus an 8x12" print of their favourite Bush Babe image (goannas, horses, sunsets, trees, fogs, cows, pups... your pick!).
If it's too hard, I'll leave a hint in the comments section...
C'mon in, the water is warm!
BB

26 July 2008

Lavendar, bulls, bullsh** and butts

You know how I told you recently about my garden, and the sad lack of attention it gets?
Well apparently, not everyone is as disinterested as me...

As the rain came down yesterday morning, TLW yelled that we had "BULLS in the GRASS Mummy!!"

Somewhat idly, I wandered out to see why bulls in grass should cause so much commotion...
And across out patio, past our BBQ and through the kids' swing, I spotted...
Number Seven!!

Do I have to go through again how numbers are much more practical and can be referred to with equal affection, as names?? No? Excellent! You are coming along...

Anyways, there was a little bull. In my houseyard. Make that more than one little bull. All looking somewhat guilty in their newfound yard. Like: Come ON dude... it's raining, you were inside, the gate was open, the grass is sweeter... what'd you EXPECT??

And you know, I kinda had to agree with them...
Even felt a bit sorry for them as SSB looked to herd them out...
Until...

They started eating my lavendar!!! And as any lazy gardener knows, lavendar can survive drought and thrive on neglect (my exact specialty) but it does not like being eaten by cheeky little bulls!!

(I'm sure this advice is somewhere in one of those fancy, schmancy gardening tomes!)

Out you go Number Seven, you and your mates!

Just 'cause you are as cute as... you cannot eat my lavendar. It's all I've got. All that seperates me from the Gardenless. And I'm clinging to it!

Back out to Number 137 and his red buddy... hang on. What's going on with that face??

Euwwwwww!!!

More rain please, Hughie... we gotta get Number 137's face clean! Otherwise the other little bulls might call him Sh**Head... and we can't have that kind of language around the kids!

And in a completely unrelated matter... Dash went for a sleepover with his cousins last night, and Roley went with him. To stay forever.

Man I miss those two cute backsides.

(Yes, the IS a skinny boy bottom under those baggy shorts. Just!).

Punk by Bush Babe

Ree had a pic of one of her handsome sons (she refers to her kids as 'punks') today, and did some 'work' on it. She asked for other's ideas... this is my very quick effort. Here is her SOOC (straight out of camera) shot... just gorgeous!
To get this, I simply lightened in curves, upped the saturation overall and in blues and cyans, dropped it in reds and magentas, and then went back to curves and upped the contrast slightly. Not very technical, but such great eyes!!!


Or this... grayscaled, then copied eyes back onto monotone image?? Hmmmm. Too freaky??

What do you think? What would you have done?

24 July 2008

Puppy update... critter chaos and goodbyes!

I have held off posting this one, hoping that Ree's Nell would be miraculously found over at PW. Cause I feel a little disrespectful posting a puppy piece when such dramas are unfolding. But I have had some requests for updates on our wee pooches, and ... well you'll see why the timing for this one had to be today at the end of the post! (Call me a tease!)

Remember our puppies?? This is kinda what what they looked like about 13 weeks ago... this was called The Grey One back then ...all together? Oooohhhhh!

And this is what they look like now...

That's Roley (the Grey One) and Pitch (the Black One) playing with their favourite toy, the red stuffed worm.

(Please forgive the dull photo colours, it has been raining! Yay for grass, not yay for photo saturations!)

Oh dear... red worm finally gave way after approximately three months of intense puppy love... Come here Pitch! Come here Roley!!

Good boys!

There is something lovely about puppy tongues. Except when they have been eating cow poo and then lick you - which is all the time! If you never take anything else from this site, take this: Never let a dog lick your face! Never, never, never!!!

Hello Roley... this is Debby's favourite. He might be mine too. (Or as Deb calls him: Mine. She is very witty!).

Roley is a happy little chappy. Even if he is half grown up already. We have a bit of news about Roley. He is leaving Granite Glen. And taking up residence at SSB's brother's place - where four children wait to roll around with him, and their mother braces herself for certain puppy chaos.

Not that there is much for her to worry about. Not really. He's a pretty good boy.

Most of the time! (Note to SIL A: boots are a bit tempting for this little canine rascal. )

Bye Roley... we'll miss you and visit you lots!!!

...

Oh, and if Ree is visiting (c'mon, stop lurking Ree!) ... this is Patch.

She went missing too.

For three days.

Then she came back to where we had lost her.

The story is here.

I do hope Ree's Nell 'does a Patch'.

23 July 2008

Speakin' the Lingo - Strine Users' Guide

The Great Aussie tongue...

It has come to my attention (almost daily!) that there is a fair gap between the Aussie language and that spoken in the good ol’ US of A. And probably the rest of the English-speaking world…

And as my readers (hello you lot!) are almost half-and-half (Yanks and Aussies, with a few Kiwis and Canadians thrown into the mix) I thought it might be appropriate to follow on from this earlier effort in bridging the language barrier we seem to face. This is to be an interactive post – pinching some definitions I posted earlier and adding a few I've gathered from queries over the past couple of months. I'll start, and then you suggest more and/or correct the previous offerings, and I’ll add to the below list as we go.

Let’s see what kind of fabulous 'Strine User’s Guide we end up with!

SWEARING - The first thing is that NOT ALL Aussies swear. We seem to have a reputation for foul language but really, we are pretty much like anywhere else in the world. Gordon Ramsay was interviewed here recently and was aghast that Aussies could criticize his language. “For F***’s sake, it’s bloody AUSTRALIA!” he bellowed. Sure Gordon, and I do love your work, but seriously, we DON’T ALL SWEAR! The “Ocker” or exaggerated Aussies (like the characters Paul Hogan plays) come across as rough and ready in a deeper shade of blue. And there are some Aussies like that – they are generally known as “characters” or when particularly rough around the edges “real characters’.

But plenty of others are much more civilized. Like my Ma. She doesn’t swear. At all. There was that one time she said “Witch Bitch” when the proverbial had really hit the fan one day, but I don’t think we can count that, do you? Shocked the pants off me, but I recovered. And I cannot imagine Nicole Kidman talking trash, or our GG Quentin Bryce. Or our PM even. So no, we don’t all swear.

Me? I do swear on occasion. The odd “bloody” is very effective as an exaggerative device (is that even a word?) provided you don’t overdo it. For example: “That was a good show” versus “That was a bloody good show”. For impact, the latter wins hands down for me. My grandmother would lecture with a cheeky finger: “That means “By Our Lady, young woman” and it’s taking the Queen’s name in vain!”(The Queen or the Virgin Mary, one of the two!) I rarely use the F word. And certainly never the C word. My Mum did have some influence on me. (OK, there is the odd occasion if SSB has been swearing a bit much, and no kids are in earshot, where I will pepper my sentences with the F word just to shock my hubby into some manners again. He hates it when I swear!! Heh heh!).

This said, some of the words below will resemble swear words. Be warned.

I have also addressed some other words that clash (between our fine nationalities) and ones that have needed to explain on this blog. And this is an interactive thing, so I’ll post up the best suggestions and additions right here. These are in vaguely alphabetical order unless relevance overtakes.

Ready? Grab a cuppa and let's get this party started!

ALFALFA
Aussie – little tiny sprouts one uses in sandwiches, salads and garnishes.
American –the crop which makes good fodder hay (and which Aussies call LUCERNE).

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BASTARD - can be a term of endearment or defamation, depending on it's usage. For example, "You are a bit of a bastard" is a real put-down. On the other hand, "You are a complete bastard" can be quite a compliment.

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BITUMEN
Aussie for a sealed road (the hot tar and blue metal mix) or as Americans call it: Black Top or asphalt. Not to be confused with “bitchin’” which is a great Aussie pastime and also a positive descriptive. As in Bitchin’ Bitumen. And if you are used to driving on dirt roads, almost all bitumen is bitchin’.
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BLOKE – Aussie man, in parody often seen in stubbie shorts and thongs (flip-flops) but can be disguised as businessmen, stockmen (cowboys), and sometimes prime ministers.

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BOB'S YOUR UNCLE - everything is OK, fixed. As in "I'll just finished tightening this screw and Bob's your uncle!".

BUSH – this does not refer to an American President or the nether regions of a female, but to the regions of Australia beyond suburbia. Those talking about ‘The Bush’ usually refer to areas which boast the presence of animal life such as emus, dingoes, cattle, sheep, camels etc. In typical Aussie irony, it does NOT necessarily include any evidence of foliage.
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BUSHED - can mean either lost (I'm afraid we seem to be bushed), letting go (I bushed that horse yesterday (put it out in the paddock) or very tired (Geez, you looked bushed).
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BUSH PIG - possibly one of the most derogatory terms one can use towards a female. "She's a real bush pig" means a very rough woman who takes little care of herself and is possibly a bit aggressive. There are such things as bush pigs (in the animal sense) or wild pigs which are very big, very hairy, very scary creatures. I guess one can see the correlation?
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CHOOKS – Aussie for chickens, or hens. It’s the sound they make: chook, chook, chook, chook-ook!
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GOOGS - that which chooks lay: eggs, or googy eggs. I have no idea how this one came about? Anyone?
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CANUCKS - refers to Canadians, apparently. Not much in use Down Under (yet?). We just call 'em Canadians, or if we want to be really offensive, Yanks. (Sorry guys, but I challenge you to pick a Kiwi from an Aussie!). All Canadians are welcome to comment about what they like to be called!
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COBB & CO – a transport service from early European settlement in Australia. (Founded by four Americans!). Consisted mainly of horse-drawn vehicles which would take passengers from all walks of life to destinations of all sizes, both urban and remote. Much of the routes and coach stops have now vanished, but some of the actual coaches and the occasional hut now feature in, or been turned into, museums.
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COBB & CO (hitch) – a method of connecting wire to tighten and firmly hold something in place. Usually simply referred to as a ‘Cobb and Co’.
DRIZABONE – an oilskin raincoat, originally designed by a Scottish sailor, used mostly by horsemen (and women). I imagine it is taken from the words “Dry as a Bone”. It is heavy with a split in the back allowing the rider to sit astride his/her mount easily. Aside – if you want to see how much Aussies revere their sporting heroes, check this catalogue out featuring cricketer Brett Lee and rugby star Stephen Larcombe (see Wallabies). We take the worship of sports stars to new levels.
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DUCK's NUTS/Guts - excellent, giving someone or something a real rap: You are the Duck's nuts!
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FAIR DINKUM - the real deal, honest, absolutely true. A fair dinkum person is one you can trust. Can also be used as a question: Fair dinkum? as in Are you having a go at me?.
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FAIR SUCK OF THE SAV - an incredulous expression: Fair suck of the sav? as in Are you for real, mate?
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FLAT OUT (LIKE A LIZARD DRINKING) - very busy, and often too busy to put in the part in brackets!! Can be a sarcastic comment also, as in "He's flat out (on the couch!)".
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JOE BLAKE - (rhyming slang) a snake.

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HINEY – caused this Aussie enormous confusion til it was explained that this is American for rear end, butt, anywhere from your belly button to your mid-thigh region. In Australia this section is known as the “backside” (and the front section, the *ahem* “fanny” region. So please stop using 'fanny' around Aussies, we will snicker every time. The name Fanny Mae is particularly amusing for some reason. Except, I spose, if you are an investor!)

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MATE – a special title bestowed up those who have proven their loyalty, integrity and (in the case of blokes) ability to throw a few cold ones down with you in times of need. As in "Good on ya, mate!".

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MILES – distance measure once used to measure Cobb and Co routes, but almost completely unused in Aussie language these days, except as a superlative – “that thing is miles too big!” We have metric measures here, folks. (You know, the ones that superseded the old imperial system?)
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OCKER - extreme Aussie character, who invokes the infamous Cultural Cringe in his/her fellow Australians.
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PISS UP – involves lots of alcohol (usually beer, and not that pansy warm stuff served in England, or trendy pale stuff marketed as ‘non-fattening’ – little respect is paid to drinkers who worry about their weight. It’s un-Australian!). Also known as “on the grog” and “throwing a few back”. Admittedly not a term often used by Aussies with any 'culture' but by those tending to Ocker (see above). The chardonnay set are more likely to refer to similar activities as "drinks" or "having friends over, darling!".
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RECKON – think or guess, as in “I reckon that will be enough beer in that glass”. OK That’s hardly ever a usage for this word. But you get the drift.
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GET THE DRIFT – Catch my meaning, get the hint etc.
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RM WILLIAMS – a brand name for high quality (and relevantly priced!) clothing, footwear and horse-type gear. RM boots are quite famous – riding boots made from a single piece of leather with elasticized sides. (Our boot rack is overflowing with old RM boots.) Now worn by punters as much as a fashion statement as riding wear. The name of this company comes from the man who founded it – Reginald Murray Williams. He also lent his name to the Australia Stockmen’s Hall of Fame in Longreach. I met him once – I was young and impressionable, and he was an extremely charming old man and (I'm guessing) quite a handful in his day.
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SHEILA – a truly terrible word referring to Aussie women. Don’t use it, certainly never to someones face, especially if you are hoping for a half decent cuppa (usually tea or instant coffee). Not quite as bad as Bush Pig though.

SMOKO - nothing to do with cigarettes (well, not so much anymore) and more to do with a small meal - morning or afternoon 'tea'. In a good Aussie bush home, your hostess might offer you tea or coffee with scones or pikelets (and lashings of jam and cream!).
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STUBBLE JUMPER - (Canadian) someone from the prairies

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TAKING THE PISS – an extremely Australian pastime, especially in the more regional areas where we must amuse ourselves more (less access to PS2 and malls). Involves telling very tall tales with an extremely straight face and seeing just how gullible the nearest visitor (townie, Pom or Yank) really is. All family members must be able to survive ‘having the piss taken’ (i.e. displaying a sense of humour about oneself), and will graduate to taking the piss when the sacred moment arrives (as decreed by an older sibling or cousin). Does not involve drug testing. Does not involve urinating.
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TAKING A LEAK does involve urinating.
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HAVING A GO (at you) – see Taking the Piss. Can take the form ‘Having a lend (of you)’.
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HAVING A QUIET ONE - involves alcohol in initially low-noise-level surroundings.
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TAKING THE MICKEY – see Taking the Piss
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YANK – with great apologies to all Americans, this refers to you. It does not matter which state of your great nation you hail from – to us you are as one, and you are all Yanks. Do not take offence, it is usually meant with enormous affection. When we are taking the piss (see above) this reference can take on the rhyming slang offshoot: Septic Tank. Some connection here with "yank your chain" and taking the piss (above)? We still love you (see ‘Good Sport’ below!).

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POM – also known as “Bloody Poms”. Read above definition, filling in “Pom” for “Yank”. We know that to you, we are all just convicts and we are happy to be good sports about that, as long as we thrash you in the cricket (or tennis, or rugby, or aerial skiing, whatever that is). Winning at sport is our revenge. Never forget it!

WALLABIES - not only a form of wildlife (like a small kangaroo) one of Australia's world-beating sporting teams, in possibly the most important game of all (and the one they play in Heaven!): Rugby Union. Full of hulking good sorts and the odd doctor and lawyer.

and finally:

GOOD SPORT – the most important characteristic to have whether you are an Aussie, Pom, Yank, Kiwi etc etc. Doesn’t matter where you are from, as long as you can handle us “taking the piss”*, you’re officially a Good Sport, and all right with us.

OK Kids, your turn to drive ... let me have it!! I promise to be a good sport!

BB

PS Karen alerted me to a great little online dictionary Aussie Slang - but try not to cheat!!

21 July 2008

Bloomin' Amazing...

I have said it before, and I will no doubt protest it loud and clear again (and again):

I have NOT got a green thumb!

You could also read this as:

I like to do other things than gardening

Or:

I am too lazy to get up early, and put some elbow grease into my Hola Enormous Houseyard!

Whatever...

It's a shame really. Because the potential is enormous. Great tracts of lawn and potential garden beds. And real garden beds, somewhat buried at present under months of neglect, weeds and some Black-Eyed Susan that is seriously looking to take over the civilised world.

(Anyone read The Day of the Triffids at school... scary, man!).

I have successfully found lots of other things to do for about the past year - mostly photographing, a spot of mummying here and there, some wife-ing and cattle-stuff, oh, and a bit of blogging could be to blame also! So, with the exception of planting out flowering seedlings in small logs-come-planter-boxes and Bullseye's memorial garden, my garden has pretty much survived (or died) on its own. The pups have taken care of much of my pathetic planting efforts (hmmmmm!!!) and Middy decided to turn one planter box into a sandbox. Remind me why I like animals again??

Finally I could stand it no longer - last week I actually weeded this little garden (sadly, not before I took this photo!).

Bush Babe secret: if you crop and zoom hard enough, you really can't see the weeds. This is the way one should live life. Just crop the crap out. See above. The end.

Back to real time, and Bush Babe wielding a pair of pruners. I was quite a sight...

I pruned, baby!. Rose bushes. I hate rose bushes. They are mean and vindictive and not very pretty. Especially when I neglect them on a world championship level - one was actually almost as tall as the roof of our house... I kid you not.

So I kitted up, dragged the man-size wheelbarrow into -place and gingerly started to hack. And hack. AND HACK!! I have very little clue what I am doing, but there was some remaining advice from my darling mother echoing round in my head about inside branches going, leaving buds to outside branches... whatever! I hacked like there was no tomorrow. Quite therapeutic really. The wheelbarrow disappeared under thorny twigs and sheets of Black-Eyed Susan (seriously people, I was Indiana Jones without the accent! And with a D cup. OK, an E cup. Sheesh! My diet starts tomorrow.)

Where was I? Oh yes. Hacking. So hopefully, I haven't actually killed the rosebuses I inherited with this houseyard and this house. And hopefully, in about two months time, my yard will look slightly less like Revenge of the Black Eyed Susan and The Rampaging Thorn Bushes and more like Australian Country Living. Well. I doubt that. That would take REAL effort. But at least it might look a little more like this...