Best Band-Aid of All

I was a little rough on everyone last post.

I am very sorry.

But ... it kind of had to be done, had to be written.

I needed to clear the air, and I simply couldn't ignore various readers' pleas for an update, or Tuffy's right for his short little story to be told. He's got a special place in my heart.

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Are you OK?

Can I do something to make it better?

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You know I think I might already have a little something

tucked away here that might help....

Ah... here it is.
The very best band-aid of all: A BABY.

Not MY baby of course -

Violet gets violent if I refer to her as my 'baby' any more -

a borrowed baby.

YOU know who I'm talking about:

Paris.

My clever sister's divine little being who loves to point her pinky.

My gorgeous niece Salina's scrumptious little sister...

Oh, and I believe my brother-in-law V may have had something to do with her too...

(No photos. V is shy. But his father's love for this newcomer is so great it almost busts the walls from his home!)

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JOB WELL DONE, PEOPLE.

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But wait... there's more.

My brother, his wife and their three children will bring THEIR new baby home this weekend.

And oh, he is a CORKER.

Texted snaps and emailed images already have me clucking.

I cannot WAIT to hold him and inspect him and adore him.

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Just as this one was held, and inspected and adored.

Isn't it amazing how babies can steal your heart by doing nothing?

And how love and arms can extend so easily to encompass one more?

Some of the sweetest mysteries of the world...

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Hope that salves the sting of Tuffy's tale...

Oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR'S EVE.

The Big Dipper: A tale of Tuffy

If you recall, I alluded to a bit of a bumpy rollercoaster-ish kind of ride in these parts, in the pre-Christmas period. And I'm guessing I shouldn't keep people hanging on through the New Year (cause I have BIG THINGS planned for the New Year in this little ol' black blog...)
...
You ready?

Coffee and tissues at hand?

Okay then...

Remember this calf?

Our amazing little injured bull calf and his incredible Mum...

To catch people up, this little boy was discovered beside the public road running through our place. He was badly injured after apparently being hit by a vehicle. We had thought his mother had abandoned him, but when we reunited the two after bringing him home for nursing, she showed her true colours by standing over top her injured baby to feed him.

Well, in the lead-up to Christmas he became the House Pet, as my visiting niece Salina followed the rest of the family in completely falling in love with him.
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As well as being (pre-accident) the perfect package physically of a baby Brangus bull, he showed us the most calm, gentle, optimistic nature. Despite never being much around humans before, he was quiet and happy to lay his head in welcoming laps as we tended his needs. He seemed to know we just wanted to help. We consulted a couple of vets, brought him water daily, injected him with anti-inflammatories, moved shade and offered hay - and in return he never stopped trying to recover.

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And while ever an animal is TRYING, we tend to keep trying to help them. He was nicknamed Tuffy for his resilient attitude despite clearly being in pain with his injuries.
He continued to try to stand, regardless of the fact he could never actually get up.

His legs simply would not hold him.

His mother continued to come back to him a few times a day to check on him and feed him. The wonderful Bay Lulic (the real name for this amazing cow) kept K114 (the 'name' we gave Tuffy's Mum when she was a calf) company in the paddock by our house. Bay Lulic's adopted orphan would frolic around the game little Tuffy as if encouraging him to 'come and play!'
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Our place is very hilly, and each effort to stand would take Tuffy further and further away from the house. A couple of times each day we would re-tie the blue tarp over his newest position, refill the knocked-over water containers, push the hay closer and give him another cuddle.

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But it just wasn't enough. It was very hot and he would breath terribly heavily. One shoulder swelled up massively and he gradually lost weight. Then about 10 days after we brought him home, I saw it. That dull look in the eye that an animal will get when they start to fail.

And I knew. I just couldn't let it go on.

He was just never going to get up.

He would never recover.

So I decided (such a heavy, heavy decision),

Mr Incredible quietly agreed,

and we waited until Salina went home.

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The next morning I took Tuffy a drink, a small sheaf of hay, scratched his jaw in the spot he liked the most... and then I took the kids for a drive in the truck.

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Mr I and Lila (our lovely neighbour who discovered Tuffy initially) put the little guy out of his pain. Afterwards they did a bush autopsy and discovered terrible, extensive bruising, one severely dislocated shoulder and a broken back thigh bone. (Someone asked me in a previous post if we would eat the meat if we put him down - I have to say it would have been hard because we had bonded with him, but this really wasn't an option at all with such injuries).

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Tuffy had put up such an incredible fight - we couldn't believe how shocking his injuries were. He didn't stand a chance really. It made the pain of the decision we made a little easier, mixed with guilt that we should have done it earlier.

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The kids were upset initially but we explained how Tuffy would now frolic pain-free up in Heaven, just like all the other calves. Dash accepted this, but for a while Violet was beside herself that she hadn't said goodbye properly. I assured her that he already knew how much we all cared. We wiped away our tears and climbed from the truck.

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But our job was not over. We had to take K114 back to her paddock - she had been patrolling the house paddock looking for her Tuffy and we needed to re-settle her as best we could. So we reloaded the truck and drove her home.

She was reluctant to get off the truck on arrival - she knew she was missing something.

Why am I here? Shouldn't someone else be getting off the truck too?

Is he hiding somewhere in the shed?

And off she went...

Straight back to the creek where she had seen him last in this paddock.

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I broke up a bit at this point, I admit it.

A Mother's Love is a powerful, powerful thing.

She did her very best.

We all did.

R.I.P. Tuffy.

I hope you are frolicking free...

Fa La La La La!

Hello there... did you survive Christmas unscathed?

The Granite Glen gang came through pretty well.

Completely sated really.

Food-wise, present-wise, loved-ones-wise.

We had a relatively low-key and quiet Christmas Day (which was kinda nice) and a rowdy Boxing Day with rellies (which I love). There is nothing better than sharing special days with special people, is there?

Even special pooches help make the day stand out...

We did try some reindeer antlers on Axel, but he was not a quiet study with lurid green fake horns atop his scone. Not this this old fella. Never mind. Tinsel was festive enough!

This is my favourite Christmas card - handmade by Dash.

I adored the meticulous work.

And the gorgeous pop-up figures.

Even the completely inappropriate weather depicted made me smile.

And here is my favourite gift - a set of pots from Mr Incredible.

He was a little horrified at giving me something so domestic.

But it was all I really wanted - besides a happy family.

And it was something I badly needed as illustrated here.

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A regular Canadian reader, Theresa from Alberta, asked last post about what Aussie eat on Christmas Day. (Besides cashews of course. They're obligatory the world over, aren't they?)

So I decided to share a little selection of the snaps from our day - illustrating what THIS Aussie family considers good holiday fare. Keep in mind that it was over 30 degrees celsius here on Friday - that's over 86 degrees farenheit if my converter is working. Toasty. Sweaty. Tummies don't really require much warming up, that's for sure.

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And while the full roasted meal is often served on December 25 Down Under, "traditional" was kind of thrown to the wind in this household this year. This was partly 'cause it was only the four of us for lunch, and partly cause my kids don't get into the whole roast thing too much, and partly because Mr I was under the weather. I see no point in slaving over a hot stove for one person. Especially when that one person is me!

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I shelved the lamb and chicken I was going to roast. And the Twice Roasted Potatoes I so love in this cookbook which lives on my kitchen bench...

(Bonus points for anyone recognising the famous Aussie in the recipe book behind Ree's).

Reconsidering the needs of my little family, I instead cut open the foam icebox containing seafood I had picked up a couple of days ago while visiting my gorgeous niece. And I let it dictate our strange little menu...


Violet won't touch seafood unless it's fish fingers. She won't even eat ham. So she got some leftover noodles and bolognaise. (She could NOT have been happier). Dash got a bacon-and-BBQ-sauce-sandwich. Which he didn't mind, but then he tasted the seared Moreton Bay Bug meat, and devoured that instead... talk about adventurous, expensive tastes! Ah, but it makes my heart sing to see him revel in food of any kind. Who'd have thought?

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For those who have never been introduced to Moreton Bay Bugs check this site. It's amazing - to me, the best of all seafoods. Anywhere. Seriously. I marinated this lot in olive oil, garlic, lemon juice and salt before searing in a pan on the gas stove. And I whipped up a little creamy pesto side sauce. Which also goes well with the spinach and roasted pumpkin salad (with bacon and roasted pine nuts).
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And don't forget the oysters. Kept chilled, then topped with bacon kilpatrick sauce and grilled. Mmmmmm.

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And of course, the fruit...

(Ignore the bananas - I try to. They are there because they are the ONE fruit Violet will deign to eat - in smoothie form only. I detest them. *shudder*)

However I just adore mangoes - they say 'holidays' to me like no other fruit.

And I have a serious crush on lychees at the moment.

Soooooo juicy and refreshing....

*groan*

Oh and that most traditional of Aussie foods:

Ferrero Roches.

(Yes, I know. European. Whatever.)

So... your turn for a Christmas review.

Your menu?

Your wild and crazy antics?

(Feel free to leave relevant links)

:-)

Granite Glen Greeting...

Wishing you and yours peace and joy.

Failing that, happy noise, much laughter and full bellies.

It's already Christmas Day here.

Santa's not-so-little helper has been very busy wrapping and labelling... and she need some shut-eye! Before the overwhelming excitement of my offspring hits 10 on the Richter Scale.

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See you the other side of the chaos...

Pre-Christmas rollercoaster

This'll be quick - life is chaotic and crazy and Christmassy here

(or as my friend Jayne would say: Chris-Messy).

...

The emotional rollercoaster ride of the Granite Glen express has been full on -

Jeanie finally presented us with a little angel of a baby girl on Monday.

This little sweetheart...

(I would show you another of the shots, but my hubby has vamoosed in the Prado and accidentally taken my camera for the ride).

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The as-yet-un-blog-named little darlin' has a very definite little chin, an unmissable cry and loves being held upright against Mum's chest. She and Salina are bonding beautifully -I have never seen a prouder big sister!

Gorgeous...

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Lots and lots of other stuff (some of which involves some serious downward motion on that rollercoaster I am referring to) has happened. I will save details 'til after the Festive Season I think.

(Gosh I'm a tease, aren't I?).

...

But this bit of weather-related news I will share:

it rained here last night as I was driving home in the dark from Paradise.

Real rain.

Freaky rain.

Flooding rain.

Almost four inches of the wet stuff.

With some hail, the size of large marbles.

But get this....

ONLY AT OUR HOUSE.

Well, it did reach our next-door neighbours' too

and it actually put a run in the river,

but just over the small range just a few kilometres from our place...

NOTHING.

Dust.

It's very weird.

Apparently from a distance, a giant mushroom-shaped cloud sat right over our property.

Some say it looked like a twister over our place.

(Not that we really get twisters Down Under.)

There is debris everywhere here this morning.

At least we don't have to top up the pool or water the lawn.

I kind of feel for those whose rain gauges are still dry though...

We have friends trucking water to keep stock alive.

So we are keeping our joy pretty low-key.

'Wide-spread rain' appears to be an extinct kind of weather event in this part of the world...

...

Anyway, got go clean up and unpack and start cooking!!

Oh, and WRAP.

*sigh*

Happy Christmas Eve, my friends...

hope your Christmas rollercoaster stays up, up, UP for ya!

Today

It's a big day today. A day filled with a certain bush blogger being on tenderhooks (or a cat on a hot tin roof) awaiting a phonecall from a certain hospital somewhere near Paradise...
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Yesterday we farewelled Salina, who journeyed back home to Paradise, courtesy of Nana's taxi service. We have adored having our niece visit for a few days - she is an important part of our family and is a delight to have around. I was there when she arrived into this world - all massive dark eyes and olive skin. She was the most solemn, fattest-cheek, gorgeous baby you ever did see. Doted on. Still is.

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She has been a surrogate big sister for Dash and for Violet. She plays, she bosses, she loves, she organises, she encourages, she rides with, she swims with, she bosses (did I mention that already?) and she is generally their favourite person in the world...

And today she will become a 'real' big sister, as Jeanie gets induced sometime today (we think). The newest addition to our clan is being very shy, requiring some encouragement to make his/her entrance to the world at 12 days overdue! We are all excited and nervous and filled with anticipation.

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For Salina it'll be a huge transition - but we know she will be a wonderful sibling for this new arrival into our ever-spreading family. She's had seven-and-a-half years of practice on my two, and she gets A's all round from us!

Sending my love to my baby sister, her hubby and my niece.
A world of wonderful changes await you all today.
Somewhere just over that ridge...

The Journey of the Calendars (and my Sweet Readers)

Disclaimer: I promise this will be the last calendar post for ... well... a while.

Pinky promise.

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My calendar project has been a lot of fun - a lot of fiddling and addressing and mailing out, but a lot of fun and joy also. The batch I got printed up seemed to fly out the door almost as soon as they arrived (I have clung onto one for me and a couple for Christmas gifts, but otherwise, they are GONE baby!).

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Among the amazing things about this project has been tracing the journeys of each calendar. I said originally how much it would tickle me to know where they end up - and some people (my wonderful readers mostly) have come up with the goods. Not only do I know where they are going (having addressed each one by hand) but I am getting to see where they landed!

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It's something I really didn't anticipate or expect... that people would take the time to let me know how they felt when they opened the package, or even take photos of the calendar in their home and with the person for whom they had bought it.

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This is where they (sort of) began ...

...pictured arriving at Granite Glen mailbox after printing, and thoroughly investigated by Violet. I don't have pictures of the chaos that ensued as I addressed each one. It was big and it was glittery and silver hearty. Messy. No-one needs to see that. Heh.

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The first image to land in my inbox was of our sweet Melbourne gent with his BB planner for 2010, given to him by his lovely daughter.

He won the contest for the first posted calendar to reach its destination. No prize I'm afraid... just a second run with your smiling mug in this blog!

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Then the fabulous Kate of Utah Zen shared shots of her copy in... well... Utah, USA.

(I kinda get goosebumps when I realise how far some of these things are travelling!)

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Apparently Kate liked it!

And she really liked her birthday month too...

Kate's a long-time reader and all-round nice chick. We need to find her a hot Aussie horseman to settle down with. (She hasn't asked me to do this, but she's a mad Jim-the-Man-From-Snowy-River fan and I thought I'd just put some feelers out in case any of you have a brother who needs a sweet girl!). She will possibly consider hot Utah horsemen at a pinch. Sorry Kate, I'll shut up now!

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Kate shares the month of birth with Mr Incredible. Which is why I used this shot of him mustering in the rain for June - it's an image that brings back nice (wet weather) memories. Cause boy do we need the rain now! But this is not a weather post, so I'll leave that stream of consciousness right there, okay? (Man, I'm rambling today, no?)

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A little closer to home, Wendy from Southern Queensland felt the urge to share also.

Here is her calendar posed gorgeously with some amazing roses.

Her own blooms, I assume? I can almost smell them from here... mmmmmm.

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I know the calendars have also made it to Paradise, Canada and Alaska and Arizona and Switzerland too. If you have one and are happy to share, send me a pic. Your smiling face would be nice, but if you want to be incognito that's fine - maybe a backdrop of snow or desert for contrast?

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Of course I have had a failure - two calendars were returned by Australia Post with a 'not known at this address' note. Email me please Accidental Housewife!! And Bill, it's in the mail I PROMISE... that dastardly hairy, smiling ears pony held me up. Naughty thing.

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So that's it folks.

The Calendar report for 2009.

They're all gone.

But I suspect there could be a 2011 version in the pipelines.

I'll leave you with the Christmas image for 2010...

Thanks again y'all. You make my day, daily.

I have the best darned readers in the universe!

Six White Boomers

I feel the need... the need for ... a spot of Festive explanation.

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I put up a new header for December with a bit of a bush Christmas twist. But I realise that for those who aren't .. well... Aussie, it may require a little more description for the line used to make sense.

"Racing Santa Claus through the blazing sun..." comes from a song written by the incomparable Rolf Harris (name me one other songwriter who can also paint like a demon and was a champion backstroker?). The song is called 'Six White Boomers', and describes an Australian Christmas including reference to our very non-snow-like climate and replaces the reindeer with some warm-blooded creatures a little more able to stand the heat.

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Boomers refers to male kangaroos - and yes I had to look that up myself. We don't go round pointing out the boomers in the paddock (I tend to think of Axel's offerings as stinking boomers in the houseyard, but that's a whole nother blog post!). I do remember singing this song as a child though - at a night-time event called a "Christmas Tree" all lined up on stage with my classmates. The event was for the neighbourhood kids in a tiny little unlined timber hall in our blink-and-you'll-miss-it 'town'. I recall absolutely loving this particular item on our playlist - an early taste of the irreverence that tickles me so.

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Here are the words (and below them is the Rolf Harris version for you to sing along to!).

I do apologise to anyone remotely serious about photography and Photoshop for my bodgied-up image of some local roos and a Santa silhouette.

Hey, I tried (it was late, OK?). Heh.

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SIX WHITE BOOMERS

By Rolf Harris & John D. Brown .
(Introduction)
Early on one Christmas Day, a Joey Kanga-roo,
Was far from home and lost in a great big zoo.
Mummy, where's my mummy, they've taken her a-way,
We'll help you find your mummy son, hop on the sleigh.

Chorus:
Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
Racing Santa Claus through the blazing sun.
Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
.. On his Aus-tra-lian run.

Verse:

Up beside the bag of toys, little Joey hopped ,
But they had'nt gone far when Santa stopped.
Un-harnessed all the reindeer and Joey wondered why,
Then he heard a far off booming in the sky.

Chorus: Six white boomers ...

Pretty soon old Santa began to feel the heat,
Took his fur-lined boots off to cool his feet.
Into one popped Joey, feeling quite OK,
While those old man kangaroos kept pulling on the sleigh.

Chorus: Six white boomers ...

Joey said to Santa, Santa, what about the toys,
Aren't you giving some to these girls and boys.
They've all got their presents son, we were here last night,
This trip is an extra trip, Joey's special flight.

Chorus: Six white boomers ...

Soon the sleigh was flashing past, right over Marble Bar,
Slow down there, cried Santa, it can't be far.
Come up on my lap son, and have a look around,
There she is, that's mummy, bounding up and down.

Chorus: Six white boomers ...

Well that's the bestest Christmas treat that Joey ever had,
Curled up in mother's pouch all snug and glad.
The last they saw was Santa headed northward from the sun,
The only year the boomers worked a double run.

Chorus: Six white boomers ...

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Ready to sing now?

The following clip is slightly disturbing (there's an animated bit which freaks me out slightly) but ignore that and belt it out with me...

What's your local spin on something Christmassy?

(And is 'Christmassy' even a word?)

Something to make your jaw ache

No. I did not take these photos.

My sister-in-law's cousin forwarded the pics to me. Or something like that. But I can tell you, if I had been there (at a place described as the '22 kilometre Lake Lindsay overland conveyor route' near German Creek Mine in Central Queensland) I would have been shooting that Nikon off like there was no tomorrow.

Seems to be some kind of python (Morelia spilota or carpet python would be my guess) who was sooooo hungry he took on what can only be described as QUITE a mouthful...

Apparently they suffocate their prey before 'swallowing' or literally wrapping their body around their meal. My clicky jaw hurts just looking at this.

Of course my sympathies to the wallaby too.

We have lots of pythons here - we see their abandoned skins more often than the snakes themselves. The largest scrub python I have seen was as thick as a (working) man's arm and about 10 feet long. Usually they are slow-moving and quite beautiful. Except (I imagine) if they are swallowing a family pet. Or worse.

Soooo... anything freaky in your neck of the woods lately?

Among my many annoying habits...

...is my uncanny ability to land a really good park - it's like an Olympic sport to me.

I despise bad parks.

And I have not lost my touch despite being bush-bound for three years.

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A few basic good-park rules:

Circling is OK.

Stalking IS allowed.
But crankiness is NOT.

Never, ever.

(Good parks come to those who are patient and calm.)

Most importantly, always, ALWAYS go for the best park in the house.

Or in this case, in Chermside Shopping Centre during pre-Christmas madness.

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Despite a few squillion others shopping there yesterday, we landed this little beauty:

Honey, it just doesn't get any better than that.
Step out. Onto the pedestrian crossing. Through front doors.

Oh yeah!

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(Another annoying habit might be my crowing about my parking achievements.

Let's explore that in another post, shall we?)

Monotones and My Girl

One of my favourite bloggers is holding a little contest on her blog at the moment. It's calling for black-and-white images from bloggy photographers, and while I don't tend to do the 'who has the best photo' thing too often (I really don't think my shots are technically up for it) I entered one image I had taken of my girl on a swing in our back yard.

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I chose this one....

Because I like the movement and the bokeh and the sharpness and the anonymity of it.

To most people, it could be any little blonde girl.

Any little girl flying high in a swing in any backyard.

But it's not.

I know those untamed curls.

And that loose grip that speaks my girl's confidence and joy of heights.

And the hand-me-down t-shirt from her big brother.

Every pixel of this image is familiar to me.

Perhaps that's why it speaks to me so?

If I wasn't being technical (and let's face it, that's pretty much all the time) then I'd choose this image. There is no missing the toe-curling joy here. Or the smile of her proud Daddy in the background. There is no other little blonde girl that this could possibly be.

This pic makes my heart sing. Pure and simple.

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Actually, it might be the little person being photographed that has that effect on me.

She's stubborn, diminutive, sparkly, feisty, loving, sweet, fiercely loyal and ...

it's her birthday.

I love you more than words (or pictures) can say.

Messin' with Mirages

I hate to harp on in my weekly (kinda, sorta) weather reports here at the Bush Babe blog... but have I mentioned its a bit hot? Uncomfortably, sweatily, ruddy-faced hot. Make-up sliding right off your face and onto the floor hot. Skin sizzling hot. Yearning for snow kinda hot. Have I mentioned it? Oh... I have? Right then.

Moving right along.

Would you like to see a snap from our recent weekend away to the gorgeous Darling Downs region? Here's one I snapped from the car window as we headed home - sorry you are not getting the elegant expanses of Toowoomba's amazing fig-tree lined Margaret Street. Or the lush gardens throughout this great town/city. Or the shakin' down nightlife we discovered there. No. THIS is what I give you... mirages.

Outback maths: Flat open expanses plus heat equals shimmering horizons.
Kinda groovy really.

I messed with it a little: this is with Pioneer Woman's Soft & Faded action.

Now with PW's Fresh & Colorful

(not sure you can make a mirage 'fresh' but I tried!)


And with a textured action I discovered somewhere called Vintage.

A bit 'worked' maybe?

I actually don't mind this... looks like something my grandmother might have seen about 80 years ago. If her eyesight had been dodgy when she was about 20.

But you know what I mean...

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What is your favourite version?
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And while you are in the comments section (you know you want to) can anyone out there beat our forecast maximum of 38 degrees Celsius (minimum of 19 degrees?).

And while we are all competitive, who can go the lowest?

I NEED to read about something other than extreme sunburn here people... because according to our weather bureau the thermometre will plummet with showers (of less than one mm) to a chilly 34 degrees on Monday.

Can't. hardly. wait.

Vignette #2: A Real Good Mother

We have had lots of highlights and a couple of lowlights with our calving this year.

We pride ourselves on breeding low-maintenance cattle and excellent mothering cows. But when something happens that leaves a calf unusually vulnerable, we humans try our best to nurture these poddies and replace the missing Mama cows with our own brand of TLC...

but sometimes it's just not enough.

...

Our latest drama has fallen into this category.

I haven't really been able to bring myself to blog it til now.

It's a little bit confronting, but I reckon the latest twist in the saga warrants a post.

A few days ago, while we were away, a calf was found badly injured in a paddock beside a road.

I felt sick when I heard the news And it was not just any calf but a gorgeous show-quality bull calf. This guy was not a baby (like this dude was) ... the injured calf was about ten weeks old and glossy and in very good condition. He also had a great calm nature and appeared very alert, despite his injuries being quite extensive.

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Some great teamwork between my Dad, our wonderful off-sider Lila and our neigbours kept this little fella alive. They kept giving him water, erected a tarp to shield him from the worst of the sun and injected him with anti-inflammatories and antibiotics. He could not walk or stand at all, with suspected spinal or hip injuries. Depite the constant care and visits, no-one ever saw his mother near him. We knew which cow she was, but with no sign of her during the regular checks and drive-bys, we decided she thought he had died and abandoned him.

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So on our return to Granite Glen, we slid him into a horse float and brought him home from the paddock for some intensive TLC. We treated him and got him to drink, but could not tempt him to eat hay or calf crumbles or grain. It was very disheartening. Despite his good condition and great temperament, he had to eat something to have a fighting chance.

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Mr Incredible and Dad decided to bring his mother in this afternoon. We didn't know what good she would do - as much as we tried to encourage him, and as hard as he tried, his legs JUST wouldn't work. He buckled and fell at every attempt. And she seemed to have shown very little interest in him since his accident.

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On walking off the truck, the cow bellowed and immediately (despite not calling for her at any time before) he answered. They called back and forth as we moved him gingerly into a yard from the horse float, sliding him down the tailgate. As we released her into the yard, he tried once more to stand...

But to no avail.

The cow marched around the yard, seeming to look for a way out.

Her udder was very full and probably uncomfortable and we thought about trying to milk her but decided to leave them both for the night to settle down.

We sighed heavily, put some hay in a feeder and checked her trough

before heading up to the house.

It had been a long, hot day at the yards for us all,

and we were all tired and (I have to admit) a little bit 'down'.

As we prepared to shower and get dinner ready,

Dad called out from the yards.

Mr Incredible went outside to see what was wrong.

And then he told me to grab the camera.

So I did.

And this is what I found...

This cow has literally reversed up to the paralysed calf ...

And patiently stood over him, allowing him to suckle from each teat...

And I would say that each night (three in total)

that he was out there in the paddock beside the road,

while no-one was looking or driving by...

That this is EXACTLY what she was doing,

to ensure her baby got the nutrition he needed.

Even if she couldn't understand why he wouldn't get up and follow her,

or stand and suckle like normal....

I swear that is a tear of joy and relief you see there...

...

This will no doubt be an ongoing story,

and you need to know it may not have a happy ending,

because sometimes it gets very, very real out here...

but I know this much is true:

whatever the ending is like,

it will be a story about

a REAL GOOD MOTHER.