Meet Dash's feathered (school) friend

I picked Dash up from school one day this week... unusual as he normally catches the little bus to our mailbox (a shed!) about 1km from Granite Glen. I had had to scurry to one of the small towns nearby (translation: about 45km from our house) so decided to call in on the way home to collect him.

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And while I was waiting in the car park of this tiny one-teacher school, I noticed something. A movement in the tree beside the car...

Can you see?

OK I'll zoom a little...

Hello little rainbow lorikeet!

These pretty things are native to Australia and provide flashes of colour around the water troughs and bottlebrush trees on Granite Glen.

But something is not quite... right with this little fella.

See how his wing sits strangely.

And he has no tail to speak of...

He must have been attacked by something - perhaps a wild dog or cat.

And as a result he cannot fly.

Which is fine in captivity.

But not in the bush...

He's very uncomfortable with me taking photos of him - a wild thing grounded and scared.

Goodness he's pretty though...
And he seems to have recovered enough to eat a little.

That is agile!

And yet, while Dash and I admired the grace and beauty and adaptability of this little feathered creature ... this little example of Mother Nature's handiwork ...as it walked around the branches supping at the nectar of the blooms...

I silently wondered...

Is he adaptable and smart enough to outwit his natural predators?

Without the gift of flight?

Or will the odds be too stacked against him?

Like the unfortunate Willy Wagtail chicks?

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My nature-loving son will report back in, as he checks his new animal interest each day at school. I only hope this particular lesson proves an uplifting one...

I guess only Father Time (and that unpredictable old Mother Nature) will tell.

Wee Willy Wagtail - a moment of sudden clarity

You recall how there has been a little tragedy surrounding the Granite Glen Willy Wagtail nest?

Even after I did my very best Mother Nature impersonation to save the nest from certain destruction? After I had carefully documented the three little nude birdies...

Well, here is the sole remaining chick...making an extremely rare appearance just for your viewing pleasure...

So here it is...Ta Da!
What? You can't see it?
Come on... try a little harder!

Work with me people!

What? You wanna see more?

Sheesh...

Come on little fella...

The people want more.

It's a pretty big effort to sit up for the camera when you are only a week old ...

Mmmmph.... that 'nuff?

Geez woman... I can't hold it any longer...
You want more, you gotta get a better angle!
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*lots of shuffling to move step ladder a bit closer. BB clambers up.*

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Right woman, you ready?
All focussed?

OK... here goes...

Errrgghhh...

Arrghhh...

Umpphhh!

...

And now for the grand finale..

Eyes are open!

Thank you, thank you!

Autographs later please...

Language Lesson: acceptable swearing

In response to Kate's fabulous response to my Mystery Photo on Friday - in particular her question over the use of the word "bugger" - I decided to share an ad which illustrates the perceived "acceptability" of this particular word in this country.

It's an old (2007) Toyota TV ad with a very Strine take...

(Non-Aussies should be aware that we have a slightly sick sense of humour Down Under. Be-ware!)

I have to admit, having grown up in a household where there was quite strict monitoring of questionable words and investigations into the true meaning of such words (hello Mum!), this particular one still has the power to make me cringe slightly.

After being beaten around the head by it in this ad, however, it just becomes funny. Well, it did to me. But as has been thoroughly established, my humour sits on the darker side of 'normal'. There are a series of these ads on You-Tube if you are keen to be pummelled some more. Go on. It's fun!

So yes Kate, in my experience, Aussies these days (generally) tend to use the word Bugger as a pseudo (acceptable) swear word. But try not to say it 'round my Mum, OK?

I am intrigued however, to know YOUR take on this particular word, dear reader...

BB Questions:

1. What is your acceptable (in my head I am doing a Super Nanny impression... ass-septable) swear word?

2. Is "bugger" acceptable in everyday speech in your house?

3. If you are Australian, do you agree or disagree with my call on this one?

In anticipation!

Reflections of... the way things used to be

Firstly, welcome to those who are here courtesy of the amazing BOSSY.

I heart Bossy. She not only gives good blog, she is also a Great Dane owner.

So she must be fabulous.

Ready for a little Great Dane Love-In?

This was photo used in the invitation for our wedding...

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It was taken on the 'beach' at Nudgee in Brisbane in 2000 by a friend (hey Baz!) and the shot is quite typical of the way SSB and I would spend a weekend afternoon. Enjoying some outdoor air after a week spent in recycled air in office cubicles in the city. We would walk on these mud flats with our 'firstborn', Cosmo the Great Dane. He would belt across these flats like a low-flying silver-and-black missile. It could be quite frightening: 75kg of low-flying dog can do enormous damage when not aimed correctly. But I'll go into THAT another day.

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I love this photo. Simple. Reflective of our past in so many ways. When times were simpler. When Coz was in our lives.

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Just thinking about this great goofy canine still brings tears welling to the surface. Despite the fact he has been gone for almost 18 months, I still can't believe he is not with us any more...

Can't believe that he is not putting up with two pesky kids trying to pretend he really IS the horse he so resembled in size...

Not patiently accomodating the sloppy brand of lovin' only a toddler can bestow...

Not showing kids just HOW a giant dog should behave when faced with the option of (A) running and hiding on the arrival of 10 rowdy cousins, or (B) lying down and taking it like a Great Dane.
Not been just there when the comforting feel of that sleek mottled bitumen-and-silver coat was most needed...



Not been a feature of our annual Christmas card...

Hey Big Fella...

Are you watching my kids grow and change and become 'real little people'?
Are you with my darling friend Lil, and is she stroking you still?
And one more thing...

Will you be OK if we get another Cozzie-dog?
He'll never really be 'another you'.
But he might help fill that Coz-shaped hole in my heart.
Would that be OK with you, mate?

Wagtails Weekend Wake...

Our willy wagtails nest has been the focus of much attention recently. Tucked away cleverly in the very corner of the roof rafters on our outdoor laundry, this tiny nest of woven cobwebs and horsehair has been housing three baby birds.

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Well. It was.

On Saturday I went downstairs to change a load of washing, check on the ankle-biters activities in the backyard, and see if SSB wanted a cup of coffee.

And as I came back upstairs, I looked up (as is now my habit) towards the nest.

Something was hanging from the side of the little grey structure.

Too big to be a moth.

Too small to be a bat.

I looked closer.

*gasp*

Oh no. A tiny, limp, naked baby bird.

It's teeny toes tangled in some horse hair.

Unopened eyes still sightless.

Quite lifeless.

So, before the kids came up for smoko, I grabbed some tongs, climbed the ladder and gently removed the little body from the edge of the nest. The poor little barely-feathered friend.

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The parent Willy Wagtails were chirruping at me quite busily as I performed my grim little task. And as soon as I was down from the ladder, they were noisily inspecting the nest. I felt dreadful, but hoped they would simply focus their energies on the remaining chicks. I am not sure what they would have done with the remains of the dead chick - but am certain it was better away from the surviving siblings.

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Then Sunday morning, having discussed the "wagtail situation" with SSB, he offered to check the other chicks. I had tried to stay away from the nest to let the family settle again the previous day, but was keen to know how they were faring.

He shook his head as he came back into the kitchen.

"Only one chick," he said.

..

I was dismayed. What had happened to the second chick... perhaps it had tried to fly to coop too soon and fallen to the concrete. Perhaps Middy (the cat) had cleaned up. Who knows.

...

Then there was one.

It's still there. I checked myself.

With both parents feeding it like crazy.

I wonder if it wonders where it's brothers went?

Or if it's eyes were still closed and it has no memory of them?

I wonder if Willy Wagtails take these things in?

Or are they so bird-brained they cannot count?

I wonder if I'm the only ridiculous person worrying about such things?

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Perhaps there's a lesson to be learned here?

Perhaps Leslie's students (who are apparently keeping an eye on the Granite Glen nest-cam) can shed some light on it for me. Failing that, David Attenborough? (C'mon, stop lurking man! Heh.)

Or perhaps it's simply this:

Mother Nature is a cruel, cruel beast sometimes.

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(Unless both the little victims got tangled in the blinking sticky tape...

then I'm really in trouble!)

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Signing off and handing in my Honorary Mother Nature crown...

BB

The Promotion...

The REAL answers to yesterday's mystery photo are...

The EMOTION was on Dash's face would be...

SUPPRESSED JOY & SLIGHT NERVES!

The cause of that particular emotion...

BEING PROMOTED TO A BIG HORSE!

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With regular visits from Salina (Jeanie's horse-mad daughter) Dash has found a renewed interest in all things equine. However, while Rob Roy has been a sterling beginner pony, Dash has seen the freedom and speed and non-nip qualities that the bigger horses of Granite Glen offer. And when Salina got promoted from lovely old Lacey (who struggled a little with her health over winter) to younger-and-speedier Yvette... well, a little plot hatched in his head.

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And after nagging his parents for some time, they eventually decided that Lacey looked recovered enough from her winter to handle a little rider, Dash got promoted.

See for yourself..

First, Dash was hoiked aboard his 'new' steed to see how it felt...

'Pretty good Dad!'

And within minutes, he wanted to: TRY BY MYSELF!
A little lesson in keeping those reins firm...
'You are in charge now!'
And he was off for a solo BIG HORSE run...

cautiously urging her forward...

Then "Wheeee!"...

a little trot (bounce, bounce, bouce) to get the blood really pumping!

OK, gather those reins up again...

And off once more!
With an audience (Salina) keeping an eagle eye on developments...

Hmmm, does this thing have reverse?
Anyone else think my boy looks a loooooongg way off the ground here?

Gulp!

Starting to look at home aboard The Lacey Express...

Good girl!

Thanks so much, lovely Lacey!

And THIS emotion, my friends, should be no mystery.

Sheer horse-inspired JOY!

And the winner is...

Right-o. You guys are too good...

I had to literally put the names into a hat and pull one out for this one.

So much imagination and action I really couldn't choose.

So...

the winner is...

*drumroll...*

Scotty The Frog Prince

whose entry was:

The Talk? Is that what parents call it?

Here's a dictionary, Mum; look up 'euphemism'...

So I did! Heh. What?

...

and a special mention to

KATE from Utah Zen

whose polocrosse yarn had me in stitches!!!!

Here it is:

It's polocrosse finals time again and Dash's team is in the lead. Not letting size stand in the way he and Rob Roy are of course playing on a 'normal' team. It's surprisingly easy to just zip under those tall horse to snag the ball (do they call it a ball?). Anyhoo, Dash waits in the backfield (?) for the winning shot to head his way and he is getting increasingly frustrated as all the adults with their stupid tall horses are just screwing things up.

Blimey! (nice eh?) you silly buggers! (bad word?)Where did you learn to play polocrosse?!? (Insert picture) I'll handle this. He takes off across the field. Zipping and Zagging and weaving and waving. He gets the ball, dodges, dashes, avoids a collision with an extremely gangly creature (scoff) and whacks the ball. SCORE!!!!

Dash secures the win and the trophy and respect for short creatures everywhere. YEAH!!!! Wahoo!!!! Hip Hip Hooray!!!

"Good job Dash. Now let's get home, you have chores to do."

"Awe mom!"

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Kate, that shows amazing imagination and excellent research amongst the archives of Bush Babe! You were paying attention!

Email me at bushbabeaustralia@gmail.com to chase your prizes.

Thanks all... explanation of the REAL DEAL shortly...

Mystery Photo... Dash-style!

Today's mystery photo contains a curly question.

The subject of the photo is no mystery.

It's Dash...

My little Wonderboy.

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But the real mystery is in the look on his face.

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What is this emotion?

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And what has evoked it?

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All shall be revealed tomorrow (Saturday, Oz-time*) 8pm.

But first I want to hear from you...go to the comments section and go your hardest my friends... as usual, winner is not necessarily the most accurate. (Because if I - of all people - go around rewarding accuracy over imagination, I would be the biggest hypocrite on the face of the earth! I'm such a Pisces sometimes. If you believe in that kind of thing!).

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Winner gets to trawl the archives and choose their favourite snap. I'll print up an 8x12" copy and mail it to them.

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As my Dad would say:

Good luck, good health and God Bless You!

(even when you haven't sneezed!)

BB

* There is a clock in the sidebar to help you work out time differences!

Bush Babe goes all 'Corporate'!

Well, no not really. I used to be corporate - hell, I wore court shoes and Cue suits and had neat hair and rushed around and advised Important People on a daily basis. I organised logos and events and press conferences. So I know corporate. Bush Babe doesn't really do corporate these days (or pumps for that matter, but that's another story!). I love that I'm mostly a corporate-free zone these days...

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What I am trying to get to, in my convoluted way, is that I have decided to allow an ad on my blogsite. Why? Well it's just to help cover the postage on my Mystery Photo prizes really. And Blogher promises not to put anything too offensive in the little window to the right. So I'm trying it on to see how we go. Let me know if it works for you guys.

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For the record, I have absolutely no intention of stopping my little Mystery Photo segment - my readers have some of the funniest and most vivid imaginations I've ever stumbled upon. And I really need the laughs at your outrageous interpretations of my whacky close-ups of Granite Glen "stuff". It makes my week really.

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So in the interest of proving my point, I shall post a mystery photo up later today.

Winner (as usual) gets their choice of print from images anywhere on this site.

See you soon!

BB

Counting your wagtails after they hatch...

You might remember that I have been a little distracted lately, with a Willy Wagtail family nesting in our laundry....

What do you mean I've hardly talked about anything else?

Enough from the peanut gallery!

Well, do you recall how I fixed up the falling nest with sticky tape?

And how Mrs Wagtail forgave me for impersonating Mother Nature, and managed to hatch an indeterminate number of baby Wagtails?

Did you think I would leave it there?

That I would wander past her nest multiple times daily (on my way to doing endless loads of laundry and battling clover and supervising septic tank emptying) without feeling the need to do my half-baked National Geographic impression?

Hah!

Then how do you think I managed to get this particular shot?

I'll tell you how...since you asked:

I studiously ignored the laundry and the clover, and I placed a step ladder carefully beside my laundry tubs, gingerly climbed them holding a Nikon in one hand, and hanging onto whatever curious child happened to be close-by with the other. Then, quietly hissing at said child to Be Quiet and Be Still, I patiently waited for Mr or Mrs Wagtail to come back to their cobweb and horsehair nest.

Waiting...

Waiting...

I maybe got a bit bored and decided to try the focus range out on some cobwebs in the rafters between me and the nest ...

Y'know, they are quite groovy... is it Halloween in America yet?

Shhhhh Dash... I think I see a shadow coming...

Ah hah!

Don't move... she's got a little somethin' for her babies. But she can see us and isn't really sure what to do. Fly away or feed her hungry little ones?

She decides to try and shield them from me... good plan. But not for me. How in the name of all that is Holy am I going to find out how many birds are in the nest?

I cannot rest until I know...
Patience don't desert me now!

Dear me, there are two of the little chicks... gosh!

Ummm. Not pretty.
Sorry Mrs Wagtail, I'm sure they are beautiful in a baby wagtail kinda way.

Kinda.

Will you guys HOLD STILL while I focus and do a head count PLEASE?

One more time just to be sure...

Three little baby Wagtails!!

Wow... a cramped foot, a squirming child or two, a nervous Mama Wagtail and about 40 unusable blurry photos... all worth it.

Hey lil' Wagtails...

now your Mama's gone looking for more chick tucker...
I gotta say...

That is a face only a Mother could love...
Not being your Mother, I may have nightmares...