Roads to Somewhere...

I have a weird kind of fascination...

well, I have a number really.

But the one I am talking about today is roads.

My love for them is reflected in my vast collection of snapshots of them.

I even have a whole blog category for them, for heaven's sake!

(I wonder if there is a name for such a strange fascination?)

Bitumen, dirt, straight, windy...

Smack bang dead-straight in the middle of Australia,

curling lazily around the cliffs of Italy,

creeping sleepily through English villages, or

etched into the openness of American grazing land, I love 'em.

I realise there are more aesthetically pleasing things in the world.

But roads... they promise. They tease.

It's pretty much guaranteed that something fascinating is waiting 'round the corner.

Through the mist.

Over the hill.

Beyond the crest.

Perhaps it's just a row of native gums forming a bush avenue.

Or an old shed guarding the sweep of black tar near a town.

Even roads buried under the weight of slow-moving rubber in a city somewhere, help form a complex web of mystery and sure delivery to somewhere important, exciting, necessary, even life-saving.

My very favourite view of a road, is seeing it disappear into a sky.

You may have noticed?

I don't know why, it just seems kind of magical to me.

The possibilities seem endless and exciting to me.

Almost like an about-to-do-the-rollercoaster-dip tummy churn.

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Of course the most loved stretch of road holds no mystery to me at all.

It's the road home.

MY road.

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What does your road say?

And where is your favourite stretch of highway or by-way?

The Beauty of our Bella (The Eye of the Beholder)

Something pretty special arrived here at Granite Glen this week. No, I am not referring to the calendars, which have mostly gone off in a cloud of dust to all sorts of amazing places. (More on that in a later post).
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Something was delivered here in the last couple of days that is just so beautiful, I cannot even begin to share the blinding glory of it. Well, I could, I suppose. But there are some things that the camera struggles to fully capture and translate - some kinds of beauty that supercede mere pixels and hues. I know I won't even go close to being able to show this particular being in its honest embodiment of the divine.

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But I guess I should try ...

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Are you ready?

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You may need sunglasses.

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And please put down any hot beverages you may be likely to spit.

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I am warning you - this particular femme fatale is unlike

ANYTHING you have ever experienced.

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Meet... Bella.

Bella is a cow.

Not one of our sleek black beauties busily breeding beef babies out in the paddock, though...

She is a dairy cow.

She is a dairy cow with one eye.

She is a dairy cow with one eye and a HUGE bag of milk.

A dairy cow with one eye, a huge bag of milk, and the kindest sweetest gentlest nature EVER.

I pretty much kiss this cow every time I check on her.

Her and her newest admirer.

The poddy.

This little guy who has struggled with his grip on life ever since his Mama died soon after he was born.

The dude who REFUSED to suck a bottle and gave me backache and heartache as I force-fed formula to him three times a day. Who leaned against me as he submitted to my efforts to keep him alive before flopping his head down dejectedly after each feeding effort... making me feel very much like doing the same!

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Well, this same little rascal decided that maybe...

just maybe,

a teat ...

a real one...

might be...

something he could...

maybe ...

get into.

(See that tail flick? That's a barometer of milk flow and belly happiness.)

Let me tell you,

The Poddy thinks Bella is the most divine thing ever placed on this earth.

And he has the swollen belly and contented naps to testify his devotion.

And one eye missing or not...

I have to agree with him.

I can trust her with the Poddy and with his Little Handlers.

Her one eye radiates her beauty -

it is so gentle and kind and sweet and giving.

I just heart this cow.

Can you see the tiniest little glimpse of the beauty I am talking about?

Or do I sound like a raving loony?

And while you are mulling that one over,

What's the most beautiful thing YOU have seen today?

The Mail Run - by BB and Violet

We get mail twice a week here at Granite Glen.

Our lovely mail lady (who travels hundreds of kilometres each run) pokes our bundle of bills and papers into this old red cream can about one kilometre from the house.

It sits beside a little green shed - a multipurpose venue for parking bikes in (ours when we attended primary school a couple of decades ago... OK three decades ago...) for larger parcels, for calves seeking shade while their mothers forage, and even resting the occasional resting snake (yuh-huh!).

(I wonder what on earth is Violet doing in this shot?)

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Anway, yesterday the shed was housing something pretty exciting, discovered when Violet and I did our bi-weekly mail check.

No not the dog food - well, okay, Axel was probably excited about that delivery.

The boxes on the little bench.

Let's see what's in 'em...

Look familiar?

They ARRIVED!

The inaugural Beauty of the Bush calendars.

In boxes.

In the hot dusty old bike shed.

Near the calf poop.

Doesn't the ROMANCE of it all just knock you out?

Violet didn't care - here she poses delightedly with December.

I am pretty happy with the product - its printed on really heavy paper which means it shouldn't curl while hanging on your wall next year. I hate curly calendars, don't you?

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So I am about to attack the posting out side of this project.

Why don't I let Violet take the last few photos of our parcel-pickup while I get organised?

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Violet-view of the mailbox...

Oh dear...

Violet-view of Mummy picking up the boxes.

(Sorry bout that!)

And Violet-view of the well-stacked, half-opened calendar boxes.

Oh, and here is what Violet was doing beside the shed earlier:

You know your kid is a real BUSH kid when...

They do this kind of thing...

Unsure whether I should be impressed at the ability of these kids
to amuse themselves

without the need for electronic equipment...

or whether to be

just a little bit...

DISTURBED?

Weekend Updates

Well, it's been quite a week.

Random updates to follow.

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Update #1 - The Ongoing Poddy Saga

As you may already know if you have read the comments from yesterday's post, we lost our little redhead poddy last night. We think pneumonia may have claimed her - whatever it was, antibiotics and sugared-up, egged-up milk weren't helping her.

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It was a bit heart-breaking, as she was a lovely little heifer and seemed so strong when she first arrived here on Thursday. Violet seems to have taken her passing reasonably well (lots of lead-up warning may have helped) while Dash was just very curious about the carcase this morning after he and I discovered the still, stiff body early this morning.

Lots of poking and furrowed brow action.

I took no photos of her at any stage.

I still struggle a little with this side of things.

I'm such a sook sometimes.

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The fact is that we hardly ever have poddies here -

our cows are pretty good mothers and rarely have calving problems.

So that, combined with about two decades of city life,

means I have a lot to learn about caring for them.

It's a learning curve that darned near gives me whiplash sometimes.

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I still have the little black bull calf here - he is gradually gaining strength after his shaky start in life and is quite a cuddler. Of course he gets pretty overwhelming attention from two little humans so he has no fear...

He is very keen on drinking from an (unwilling) milk donor rather than from the bottle. I am trying not to feel rejected - honestly, the look on this kid's face when I hold the teat in his mouth to tip the formula in is pretty unmistakable.

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It's a little bit: "Are you completely serious woman?"

It's a tad: "Ugh. Brussel sprouts AGAIN?"

and it's all Crocodile Dundee:

"Well you can DRINK it, but it tastes like sh**!"

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Update #2... The Sheeky Shetland on Probation

Rob Roy has just come out of the naughty corner.

After raiding silos and behaving very badly at Pony Club,

our resident Bad Boy did penance in the yards for a few days.

Animal activists should remain calm.

He got far more attention there than when he is in paddock.

I hope he remembered a few manners, and I suspect he

MAY have lost a couple of centimetres round his ample middle

but is not up for any Jenny Craig awards just yet.

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Update #3... The Amazing Mates Department

Let's talk calendars.

The first run is *deep breath* pretty much sold out.

I know. I am gobsmacked.

If you have not ordered and wanted to, drop me a line via email

and I will see what I can do.

I doubt I will do a second run (unless someone orders 40!).

I am more than happy to attempt to get the orders I have correctly into the post.

(If you know me at all, you will understand that paperwork is not my strong point).

I would REALLY like to thank everyone who has supported my

by buying the Beauty of the Bush calendar

and/or placing a button on their blog for me*.

I am speechless at your generosity.

A shot that didn't make the calendar - much to my chagrin - I needed a 13th month!

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Another one that ALMOST made it.

This fabulous pony - chosen as a favourite subject by many -

survived a bad case of colic recently.

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I am not making much financially from the calendar venture,

but I am shamelessly revelling in the satisfaction of knowing people

actually like my stuff enough to look at it year-round.

It's very humbling really.

So thankyou.

I know I am a very lucky girl.

Signing off in heartfelt gratitude,

BB

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*HONORABLE MENTIONS

My wonderful blog buddies who buttoned up for me:

Debby from Life's Funny Like That

Jayne from Our Great Southern Land

Kate from Utah Zen

Tracey from Trace Elements

and thanks to

Rhu from Rhubarb Whine

Kate from Chronicles of a Country Girl

for the mentions.

Reality bites. Or sucks. Or doesn't.

I really wanted this to be a happy-go-lucky, skippedy-do-dah, my-oh-my kind of post.

With all my heart, I wanted that.

Cause it's calving time round Granite Glen.

For the past few weeks, red and black baby calves

have been popping out into the big wide world...

All knobbly knees and amazed ears and unblinking eyes.

It's been terribly, terribly cute.

But lately, well the weather has turned hot and horrible.
And then this week... well, things went a wee bit terrible.

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Mr Incredible brought a calf home - a little black bull calf, whose aging Mama had died soon after giving birth to him. Here he is.

A orphan, or 'poddy calf'.

All cuteness and neediness.

The kind of neediness that is hard to keep up with.

He has pretty much refused to suck the bottle we make up for him four times a day. So four times a day we mix up his formula, head down to the yards and pretty much force feed the little devil. My back aches from leaning over him, holding his head against my thigh, his chin up with one hand and the bottle aloft in the other, wriggling it to send droplets into his mouth, which build up until he has to swallow. It's painstaking. And the little beggar is not trying very hard.

But he is still alive.
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AND THEN... my Dad brought home ANOTHER one. Another needy soul.

A lovely little red heifer calf - only a couple of days old (her little umbilical cord still not fallen off) who DESPERATELY wanted to suckle. We tried to get her to drink from the cow who seemed to be her mother, and she tried, but the cow would have none of it. Violet immediately adopted the sweet-faced long-lashed redhead, alotting Dash the little black bull calf.

Both calves have been brushed and cajoled and talked to endlessly.
Terribly cute.

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But within a few hours of arriving and initially drinking happily from the bottle, the heifer also stopped trying to suckle. She has gone downhill rapidly in the last 24 hours. She is panting like crazy and a bit staggery in the hind legs. We suspect pnuemonia - and have given both calves some antibiotics in case of infection. The bull calf seems to have rallied and even attempted to suckle a second cow brought in to try and help them. A little progress. Fingers crossed.
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Tonight, though, things seem grim for our little heifer.

She took no milk at all - despite me mixing all kinds of extras in to make it more palatable - and her eyes are dull. Her breathing is even harder. Violet is distraught as we try to prepare her for what might eventuate. I have no pictures of the heifer - I cannot bring myself to take them at the moment. I am saying a little prayer, but am bracing myself for what we might find tomorrow morning... but I can't leave you like that, can I? In a morass of 'keepin' it real'.

So I won't.
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THIS is what calves OUGHT to enjoy as a matter of course in their busy little lives

- shady rest with Mum under a big bluegum tree.

And milkbars at the ready.
Where the worst thing that happens during the day...

is that some madwoman

rudely interrupts...

while you are mid-suckle...

on the vanilla special of the day.

Getting happy and fat and frothy and frolicky on the good stuff...

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I am wishing a little of this for our poddies tonight...

Too much to ask for an early Christmas miracle?