The Most Dangerous Thing on Granite Glen...

There are many creatures around this neck of Australia that can give you pause.

Some that can make your heart go pitter pat.

And not always in a nice way.

There are animals that it always pays to avoid, or pretend that you just don't see.

*If I can't see it, it can't see me!*

(This is a tactic I try on everything from rats to cane toads and snakes.

Either that, or I call on Mr Incredible to come a 'get it' for me.

I am sooooo tough!)

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But the scariest creature is something I have never actually posted on before...

It's not a crocodile, or a deadly snake, or a feral wild pig, or a foul-breathed goanna.

So, do you want to meet The Most Dangerous Thing on Granite Glen?
OK then, if you think you are really ready for something shocking...

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It's a paper wasp.
A tiny little orange and black insect.
And the sight of one of these little beasties is quite enough to make most of us nervous - a sting can burn like all get out. And the swelling can be fierce. But for some, this little creature can mean something so much worse...

People, like this guy...

My brother, Pig.

This big, burly bushie, this ex-front-row rugby player, this Queensland Schoolboy weightlifter, this ex-B&S fiend and now-father-of-three... is also morbidly allergic to paper wasps.

Like pass out and may not wake up kinda allergic.
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And last week, he got bitten by two of the blasted little things.

On the face.

While at the yards by himself.

Wasps often build around yards and watering points. It's like we humans have made these locations - nooks in gates and fences - especially for them to tuck their pretty little honeycomb-designed homes into. They love the yards especially. And most of the time we never notice their presence... most of us never get stung by them.

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But Pig... honestly, he attracts wasps like honey attracts bees. I have never known anyone to be bitten as much! And every single time it happens, his body goes into serious shock.

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Luckily, yesterday as he did some work on his own and two wasps flew out from the gate he was opening and attacked his face, he had his very last epi-pen with him. He calmly injected himself in the thigh with it, and called us on the two way radio to let us know what happened. Driving back to the house here (so we could keep an eye on him in case he passed out) his hands began to lose sensation and dizziness set in. And for the next two hours, his face purple and stomach churning, he was literally unable to do anything as his body recovered from the sting and the adrenaline shot.
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And as I got him a glass of iced water and an empty bowl, I reflected on how shocked I am every single time we go through this process. It began when he was a child - I recall him getting a wasp bite when he was only about three or four while on holiday. He swelled up and swallowed his tongue and was rushed to the ambulance station. It seemed surreal then, and somehow even more so now. This big guy felled by something so seemingly insignificant.

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I thought about how unlucky he is, a man who works every day amongst Mother Nature's finest and some of her scariest animals, to be unable to physically cope with a drop of poison from one of her smallest creations. And I thought about how lucky we are to live in an era when he can carry little lifesaving vials of medicine ready to inject into his leg, to keep his lungs doing their job.
And how, within a couple of hours, he's back at work beside us in the yards.

Working the branding cradle almost like nothing has happened.

But still feeling the effects of his morning encounter with his mortal foe.

His heart still racing a bit, the dizziness not quite gone.

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They are tough, these bush boys.
It's something I think about often.

And give thanks for.

Amen!

What's the deadliest thing in your part of the world?

Foal update... little scare!

Remember Cute Stuff 2*?

The gorgeous little chestnut filly born here just before Christmas...

*Yes it's true, we still have no proper name for our pair of darling baby horses here... I'm working on it!!

Well we have had a 'little hiccup' since the last update.
We noticed a worryingfast-growing lump on her side, and decided to play it safe and get the vet out to check her out last week. I admit I hadn't picked it up initially, but when I trawled back through my pics of her first handling, I realised you can see the very beginnings of it...
See that light coloured patch?

See... on her ribs back near her flank?
Well, it grew from this to the size of a man's fist within a week.

Not good.

And our vet thought it best to remove it to check out the problem...
Without going into the graphic details, I'll say that it was a good news-bad news event.

Good news: a splintered bit of rib bone (from an unknown incident) had been isolated by the body as a foreign body, with lots of inflammation at the site. No cancer. Whew!

Bad news - a nasty wound, lots of injections and a mare and foal confined to muddy yards.

Not happy, Jan!

As a result, Cutestuff 2 thinks we are all out to inflict grievous bodily harm on her. (These blessed humans sticking needles into a girl's bottom at every opportunity!) She is never very pleased to see any of us, especially when one of our hands are obscured behind our back, stealthily disguising a sharp instrument.
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Although the wound is still a long way from healed, she is moving freely so we have all fingers crossed for her speedy recovery. Even if she rolls her eyes and dashes behind her Mum every time I come anywhere near her.

*Sigh!*

Sometimes it really sucks being a caregiver!

Excuses,excuses!

It's branding this week - and I am flat out like the proverbial lizard drinking.
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My daily schedule includes feeding, dressing and getting kids to school and kindy, organising records, vaccinations, scanners, eartags, lunches, then all day at yards, and repeating list in reverse til all are safely in bed, sending up z's at night.
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Right now I'm sunburned, sore and exhausted.

(Riding a horse was such a great idea! Love ya Yvette!)

Basically, this mournful excuse is as good as you're gonna get tonight.
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And, in advance, I should warn y'all that I might be a little light on the posting this week. Don't love me less please... I do have a little update scheduled on the foals. And I will fire off a quick missive when I get a chance, I promise.

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Hugs and yawns
BB

Favourite Things: Clouds of imagination...

On our flying trip to the semi-Big Smoke last week, Violet and I played games. We have managed (so far) to resist the whole portable DVD players for the kids - although we aren't exactly techno-phobes. The i-pod does get quite a workout with music through the stereo and has been know to play Kung Foo Panda on its tiny screen to calm the little beasts on occasion.

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But mostly, we talk or sing and play games. I figure it's the only time I have their captive attention - and all too soon they'll be teenagers and waaaay too cool to talk to us at all! Anyway, as I was saying, Violet and I were playing one of our favourite games, spot the cloud shape.

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Suddenly she called out: Mummy - there's a horse! I'm looking in the roadside paddocks for a flesh-and-blood version when she (using a very exasperated teenager tone): No Mummy - in the sky!

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So I looked up.

Ummm.

Where Violet?

THERE, she yelled, little index finger jabbing impatiently in front of her face.
Can't you see it?
It's looking right at us! Oh yeah.

Leaning down from the top left.

Nose down low.

Ear shooting off to the right.

Wow!

Great mustering eyes, little girl!
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The things you'd miss if they were just watching movies in the back seat!

Crazy creature... echidna!

I have been fishing all the files off my old dead laptop (*sigh*) and came across a little series I thought long lost to computer oblivion...

It was a set I really wanted to share, taken earlier last year when we still had several naughty little puppies on the Granite Glen scene... a little snatch of time which had adults, children and young canines alike, hanging over the fence. We all called on Mr Incredible to help us out. I took photos, I lost photos, and then today, found photos.

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So I am (finally) delighted to bring you ...

The Echidna Files
See how close those puppies got as we examined our little porcupine-like visitor?
Poor echidna curled up tightly in a very prickly ball and refused to show us his sweet little face.
He wasn't trusting any of us!

Mr Incredible (who must've been having quite a day, by the look of those battered hands) tried to pry the quills apart for curious onlookers (OK, and lense-holders!)

C'mon fella... give us a hand Dash!

Ha... there! Can you see... right eye just below Mr Incredible's battered left index finger, two porcupine little hands just above Mr I's right hand, and long snout in the middle...

Ain't he handsome?

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Well, it may be a face only a mummy echidna would love, but I reckon he's kinda cute anyway!

The kids spent about ten minutes this day, ooohing and aaahing over this rarely-spotted native monotreme (egg-laying mammal), before we decided to release him back over the fence. And restrain the puppies from further harrassment of our prickly friend...

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I'm not sure he fully appreciated our efforts though...

Just before we put him down, I snapped this...

I have a horrible feeling he was giving me the echidna version of 'the finger'!

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PS HAPPY AUSTRALIA DAY, everyone!

Holy Giant Zucchini!

Have I mentioned before that we have a vegetable garden flourishing in our backyard? Considering how bad my repuation is as a gardener (can anyone say black thumb?) I am outrageously proud of the produce being, well, produced by my little bit of tilled soil. Because I have done NOTHING to this garden since it was planted a couple of months ago. Organic to the max, that's me! (Some might say 'lazy'... I say 'to-mate-ohs, to-mart-ohs!')

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Sure my capsicums are a little slow in making it to the table... but the fruit is there.

And sure, my silverbeet has more holes in the leaves than actual leaf (this is where 'organic' kinda falls down in my estimation!) but the bits we have been game to eat have been delicious.

But the cucumbers and zucchinis... little did I know what these gorgeous yellow flowers would really transform into.

Oh baby! I have harvested dozens of the suckers.
Dozens I tell you!

If you run into me, you are not getting away without some form of long green vegetable in your handbag (or man bag, as the case may be!). Please keeps your minds out of the gutter at this mental picture...

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As Jeanie has been visiting me, the mistress of Excel and all-thing-computer has whipped up an entire cookbook of zucchini recipes - and whipped up some of the dishes too. zucchini bread, zucchini biscuits... it's been fantastic. Our salads have been outstanding and jars of pickled cucumbers now line my pantry!
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I have been trying to keep ahead of the offerings from my vege patch, but sometimes (eg when we whip off for the weekend to catch the Cirque du Soleil) it gets a bit rambunctious and produces intimidating items like this...
Zucchinis the size of a man's forearm!!!

(And a very nice forearm it is too!)

What to do with such a monster?

(The vegetable, not the bloke!)

Mr Incredible's favourite way to eat his favourite vege is simply steamed with a big dob of butter...

But I said STUFF IT!

So I did.

With meatballs!

(And yes, the kids had meatball spaghetti this night... see how I can plan so beautifully for our meals... variety without too much extra washing up, that's me!)

You will just have to trust me that it tasted waaaaayyy better than it looked!
(You will note that I was not nominated for Best Food Blog in the Bloggie Awards! Go vote for PW or Smitten Kitchen now guys! I admit I was a bit torn over this one.)

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The baked giant zucchini recipe (if you are interested) went something like this:

1. Wash giant zucchini

2. Show off giant zucchini to anyone within calling distance!

3. Split giant zucchini in half.

4. Scoop out seeds and some pulp to make a decent 'dished' area for stuffing the stuffing into.

5. Place veges upside down on a cake cooler set into a baking tray with about 5mm of water, place in moderate oven to steam.

6. Grab whatever takes your fancy (husbands included!) - but if you are still talking about stuffing vegetables, try something like: meatballs, chili con carne, or diced bacon and corn.

7. Add a little breadcrumbs and cheese to your stuffing mix. If it needs bulking up, add in some shredded zucchini.

8. When giant zucchini halves are slightly soft, remove from oven, turn over on rack and empty water from baking tray.

9. Stuff zucchinis (with items from # 6).

10. Sprinkle with some more breadcrumbs and cheese before placing tray back in oven.

11. Bake for about 15 minutes or until top is browned. A nice touch with the chili con carne version is a dollop of sour cream... depending on what your New Year resolution was!!

12. Devour!

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Man, it's lucky I love zucchinis and cucumbers... and anyone with a recommendation of what to do with them should feel free to leave it in the comments box.

Thankyou in anticipation!

Tough yet vulnerable

Bottle trees (from the boab family) fascinate me endlessly...Officially called Brachychiton rupestris (which sounds to me like some kind of carniverous dinosaur) is described as a succulent, drought-deciduous tree.

Which basically means (as far as I can deduce) that it stores water in it's bulbous trunk for drought times (not unlike camels!) and sheds leaves when the going gets really tough.

It is an ancient-looking tree, yet wildly popular to modern landscapers...

They are proud and solid and hardy-looking, yet will choose to grow best in the richest of soils and warmer locations...

They can be messy in design, yet somehow almost bonsai-like in their deliberate artistry...

And despite the millions of years of existence as a species, the slightest injury to that unusual often-lifesaving trunk will inevitably fell them ...

I feel quite an affinity with this final observation.

Tough and sturdy-looking, yet soft-as-butter and totally vulnerable inside.

Oh, Obama!

As Mr Obama made his rousing speech today, I was sleeping. I think you had to get up at 2.30am to hear or see the Inuguration live. I did catch excerpts all day on the radio however, as I made a six hour round trip to Rockhampton to pick up essentials for our AI program (artifical insemination - another post on that one kids!).

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I was impressed and inspired and uplifted and all the things I was supposed to be by that speech. The man is an orator. No question. I have tried my hand at speech writing in the past, and it's not that easy, getting the balance right, the cadence, the tone. And the facts (although these weren't foremost in the bits I heard, I have to say).

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The new leader of the Western World would be a dream to write for. He sells it. This speech reminded me very much of Martin Luther King in its feel. The way he delivers his words. The rhythm. It's kind of mesmerising. It feels... well, for want of a better word, almost evangelical.

I totally felt like singing "Halleluja!" at intervals.

Freaked me right out.

Cause the good Lord knows I'm a bit more laid back in my religious and political expression that that! But still, I was moved. And yet my logical, cynical half reminds me of how peripheral Australia is to American concerns (politically at least) at the moment... I certainly feel a very long way from Washington and its marching bands and it's ten presidential balls!

I am very interested to know how the Presidential Inauguration (or as our local radio host and larrikan put it: The Innoculation) affect you guys? Aussies, Americans, Canucks, Kiwis, Poms... did it rock your world? Or did it leave you lukewarm? Or, like me, not quite sure... wanting to believe it all, waiting to see What Happens Next.

Post 300

Can you believe it?

This is officially the 300th post for this little black blog!

It seems like yesterday that I took the fingers to the keyboard, after some serious coaxing by my darling blog-addicted sister, to try my hand at blogging. In fact it was almost exactly one year ago, that I decided to really bite the bullet and put my snaps and thoughts into the wide blue yonder. I think this might have been my banner...

And not a single person commented on that very first 'real' post!

An auspicious beginning, to be sure.

The next did no better, when I snapped some emus while keeping my tenuous hold on my 'Mummy Mania'.

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But I never really minded, to be honest, about how many comments I managed to garner from blogging (it still amazes and delights me that people take the time to leave their thoughts here).

A wise friend advised me, early on:

Don't blog for the hits,
for you will surely be disappointed,

blog for yourself.
And that has really been my motto.

That, and

"Crop the Crap out".

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But why do I blog?

Well, I do this to share my images, and my love, of this land.

I do it to share the moments that make my heart stop a little...

I do this to record little snippets and snaps of my children being bush kids...
while they are still my bush kids...

I do this to remind myself of the beauty and grace of living so close to Mother Nature...
And occasionally, to keep it real, to bring myself back to earth with the harsh reality of being farmers of the earth, and keepers of it's creatures.

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I originally did it for our family and friends to keep up with our goings-on. I know they check in every so often, but in the end it has been for my own needs. My own expression. My own desperate desire to do something with the gazillion photos on my hard drive!

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The unexpected bonuses have been many and varied:

I have felt connections with people from all over the globe, despite my geographic isolation.

I have formed friendships with people I would NEVER have met, let alone shared meaningful time with in my non-virtual life.

I have learned incredible life lessons through their blogs, after they have miraculously discovered mine amid the mountains of blogs in all of blogdom, leaving their sweet comments as a crumb trail for me to follow.

And I have been inspired by them all, in a million different ways.

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So to those who bother to check in with me every so often:

THANKS for sharing my joy and grief over my bestest doggie friend,

the amazing much-missed Cosmo...

THANKS for sharing your amazement at the things you don't see every day (unless you live in the bush!) like the proud old man kangaroo who checked me out one day...

THANKS for laughing with me at the antics of Dash and Violet...
And the crazy animals we surround ourselves with out here..
And putting up with my fascination for all things old...

and all things sundrenched and silhouetted ...
Y'know, after 300 uploads, you'd think I'd be almost out of ideas for blog posts, wouldn't you?
Scarily, I think I have just dipped my proverbial toe in the water.
And despite the frustrating limitations of my archaic internet speed (or drag) and the lack of actual time I have for such pursuits (hence the sad neglect of housework round this joint) I am still raring to go... not an hour goes by I don't think:
Gosh, that'd make a great blog post!

And that just spurs me on to do more...
Sorry, that was a terrible pun.
It really is sad that I crack myself up so easily!

Too much sun...
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So I guess I'll catch you on the other side of 300.
Although how I'm gonna follow that spur crack, I have no idea!

Elvis is back (in the paddock)...

I cannot help but see flashes of human traits and personalities in the many animals living here at Granite Glen. Sure, I suffer from a slightly over-active imagination, but I swear anyone can see it!

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For instance, Rob Roy has serious small man syndrome but is so handsome and appealing (in a rotund, Danny Devito kinda way) that we forgive him his occasional walk on the naughty side. Middy the beautiful-wild-standoffish-but-occasionally-loving-with-her-claws-out black cat is our Angelina Jolie (thankfully for our food bill, our version is unable to give birth or adopt). The list goes on.

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Our bulls are also characters. A few weeks ago, we put the bulls out here at Granite Glen. It's one of our ritual jobs. For part of the year, all the bulls live together in the bull paddock - it's a bit of a raucous paddock that one, with so much testosterone in one place. Imagine a bovine boys weekend - lots of bellowing and tall stories and bravado - now imagine that it goes on for about nine months. Noisy and a bit messy. That's the bull paddock. Filled with characters...

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The particular bull in this story - we'll call him Big Red for the purposes of this post - is one such beast. Hello Big Red, you great hunk of bovine Red brangus bull-flesh!

Most bulls, when they get taken from the mayhem and dropped back to their paddocks (courtesy of the cattle truck) march immediately down the ramp in their appointed area and go in search of their cows. But Big Red is a little different to most bulls. He is definitely one of the alpha males in the bull paddock - big, strong and gorgeous. He walks with purpose and carries himself with a certain confidence (some might even call it arrogance) - although he is reasonably quiet (and certainly doesn't threaten humans) you always get the feeling he's just putting up with your presence.

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This particular Big Red anecdote came from Mr Incredible, after he took him back this season to the same paddock (and mostly the same group of cows) that he has been with for the last few years. Big Red's harem, if you like. His girls.

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Mr I had chosen the spot to park the truck and unload, seeing some cows far off on a distant hillside. He let down the ramp quickly and stepped back, expecting a thundering set of hooves to come down as Big Red was released from the truck's back compartment. Nothing. He looked up to see the bull standing stock still at the top of the ramp, looking out over Mr I's head to the mob of cows.

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As he watched, Big Red bellowed once. And stayed put.

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Mr I turned to see the cows look up from their grazing and immediately start moving down the slope towards the truck. Within a couple of minutes, dozens of cantering cows and trailing calves had appeared from gullies and hills - all approaching the truck. Still the bull did not move. The mob slowed as they got close and stopped. Waiting.

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Only then, did Big Red step forward. Slowly, purposefully, his gaze unwavering on the females ahead of him. He did not look sideways at Mr I at the bottom of the ramp, he just walked off and into the mob. Through the mob. And, almost as one, they turned with him. Following him away from the truck. Big Red paused for a second as they left, looking over his shoulder at my husband. He swears the bull had a dismissive look on his face.

That will be all, thankyou driver.

So, who does this bull remind you of?

One person springs to mind for me...

All hail.

The King is Alive.

*Then the girls go wild and throw their panties*

"Big Red has entered the building."

Or paddock.

Whatever...