State of the Art, Baby!

I was inspired to do this post by the Pioneer Woman, herself... Ree posted about their state of the art hay picking-up machinery thingies (that was possibly not the technical term but you'll have to check with her to get the guff).

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It made me think about our own equipment, here at Granite Glen.

Now we are part of a pretty well-run enterprise ... but I'm not sure that our general machinery is, well, cutting edge. Sure we have the latest computerised gadgets for weighing and scanning and identifying cattle, cause that's our business. But the everyday maintenance of the property is often taken care of with items of a less impressive degree of shiny-ness.

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For example, for as long as I can recall, we have had a grader here to take care of the many kilometres of dirt and gravel roads through our paddocks. Not everyone has a grader, so really, we should be happy we actually own one. Trouble is, not everyone exactly had their hand up to drive this particular vehicle.

If you could really call it a vehicle...

Hello Grader... Hello Dad, the grader driver... Hello SSB the driver of the tractor pulling the grader... Yup, that's it on the left: no engine, no shock absorbers, lots of elbow grease required!

The operator is required to frantically pull the big vertical metal wheels to lift and lower the blade as it passes over the road, requiring some pretty good co-ordination between tractor driver and grader driver (both of whom have to watch where they are travelling as well as shout over the noise of the tractor to each other!).

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So as Dad's workforce increased and his joints began to protest more at the jolting ride our antique equipment offered, he 'got rash' and lashed out.

He bought a new grader!!!

'Not', he said, 'that there is really anything wrong with the old one. Still works. Be nice to have one that I can drive on my own though. Leave you blokes do the hard work for a change!'

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We all gathered to see the spanking new addition to the Granite Glen machinery shed.

There were arguments over who would get first ride in the cabin alongside Pagi...

Dash won and we all watched breathlessly to see the new grader in action...

Hmmmmmm... Dad gets a feel for the gears and Dash gives us the one-finger salute (the nice one!).

Well it IS more recently painted than its predecessor, it doesn't require a tractor and it has a windscreen! A major upgrade. When asked if he didn't think he should have found a vehicle with actual air-conditioning, Dad replied:

"It IS bloody well air-conditioned. The NATURAL way - just open the blinkin' window!".

And with that, he was off. Happy as a lark, purring along in his new old grader, grandson at his side. You couldn't have made him any happier by handing him the keys to a Ferrari. I imagined what his response might be if you did such a thing:

"For heaven's sake - what use is that thing to me? It'd just get a bloody stone chip!"

And that would be that.

And the old grader??

Having an honourable retirement in a scenic paddock, drawing curious glances from passers by.

Oh, we say, that's the OLD grader. You wait til you see the new one!

Beyond the black stump...or in the 'burbs?

It's all a matter of perspective I guess... as to whether we are 'remote' or (in fact, as my Dad claims) actually "practically living in the suburbs" here at Granite Glen.

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I mentioned last post, that we get a tad busy socially 'round here. Now that doesn't mean too much, until you take into account some of the distances we cover to Get Somewhere.

Some rural road facts to digest:

GG to closest shop (Town A) - 45km or half an hour drive*

GG to closest big supermarket/Target (Town B) - 120km or almost 1 1/2 hours drive*

GG to closest "city" with a shopping mall - 260km or 3 hours drive*

GG to closest Big City - 450km or 5 hours drive*
(*each way)

This means that anytime I want milk or bread or when TLW attends kindergarten, it's almost a 100km round trip to Town A.

When I need something a bit specialised, it's three hours out of my day spent travelling, to Town B.

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And when I need to do a Big Shop (i.e. to get stuff in bulk at half reasonable prices, or specialised parts for various machines, etc) it's option 3, with a sleepover with my beloved sister. Which is nice, and we get the bonus of catching up, but it's still two days gone from my week.

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And if we ever actually gird our loins and head to the Big Smoke (aka Brisbane/BrisVegas) to say, see a concert or visit Ikea (shudder!) or take in some Serious Retail Therapy, then it's a Big Deal involving suitcases. (You should note that my only trips to Brissy since moving here were for A) a wedding, and B) to Ikea (double shudder) and purchase a new lense (oh delight and joy!). It hasn't exactly been a regular outing. Ten hours of driving. Hmmm.

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To some this might seem a long way and a lot of driving - I'm getting used to it again (after being a city chick for a couple of decades and taking the old corner store - usually five minutes walk away - and museums and concerts and shopping malls, sadly for granted).

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I make a much better list than I did 18 months ago, when I first arrived, that's for sure! Nothing more frustrating than arriving home in a cloud of dust after being "in town" the majority of the day, and unpacking over $400 worth of groceries, only to discover the most important ingredient for tonight's dinner is still on the shelves at Woolworths. The air has been know to turn a spectacular shade of cyan. The list is vital. I like check boxes on mine. I'm a first-born control freak.

However, there is always a story to add some perspective to your situation. My brother has a mate who lives in the 'Territory (for Americans, the Northern Territory is to Austalia as Texas is to the US of A... everything is bigger!). Their sprawling cattle property is (you ready?) about 600 km from the nearest town... you heard me. Six hundred flamin' dusty clicks... to the nearest shop. Of any kind... geez Louise! Imagine running out of cornflakes at a vital moment? Or (worse) getting a flat tyre an hour into the drive, with little kids on board? Makes us look like we are - well - in the 'burbs. Bloody softy that I am... what's a mere hour's drive?

Nothin'...

So I remind myself of that 1200km round trip to the supermarket, whenever I'm up to here with sitting behind the wheel. I put Keith Urban or Robbie Williams (well I am half-breed city and country!) on the stereo, pump up the volume... and DRIVE!

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Of course, it's always great to get home again.

The view is usually a sight for sore eyes...

Catching up at Granite Glen...

You know how you hear about the "slower life" in the country...

Well, I'm here to tell you...

it's a big fat lie!

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You can't tell by recent posts on this blog, (in fact you'd think I've been doing nothing if you went by my posting activity) but it's been really hectic 'round Granite Glen this last fortnight.

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First we had Dash's 6th birthday...

At which he received many marvellous gifts, including a watch...

And Dash's mother went to the extraordinary lengths of actually baking a cake (I'm not particularly gifted or enthusiastic in the catering dept) in a groovy puppy pan loaned by Dash's aunty. It tasted better than it looked (chocolate mudcake with white chocolate icing!)...

Dash celebrated with school friends and neighbouring family (and, yes, he was a tad protective of his candles... TLW had her head removed from the scene via a handful of hair when she inspected too closely! Brotherly love!)

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Then we went to a field day* at a property some three hours drive away...

Where we joined others to check out the latest know-how in the cattle industry...

And we also snuck away to glean some ideas for stables and general construction...

And loo decor!
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Then we had the local horse race meeting...

at which hats duelled with horses for the crowd's attention...

I suspect the hats may have won by a short neck...

The vision in the brown and orange is possibly the most stylish aunt in the world...

Is this girl not one of the most gorgeous things ever?

A little Marilyn action guaranteed to get the boys hearts a'racing!

And here are the boys, in traditional Aussie race-goin' garb.

Please note the unanimous pose, one hand wrapped around a stubbie or UDL and the other stuffed in a pocket. Attitude is all, my friends.

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Then Dash and I got the dreaded lurgy (aka The Flu)

(you can do without pics on this one)

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Then we had a funeral to go to ...

(an amazing day, post to come)

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Then my sister came to visit...

And brought Salina for a romp with cousins

(there would have been photos but I was still concentrating on being upright post-flu)

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Then we had the local show...

At which we donned our best hats and show-goin' gear.

(I'm not sure what is happening with Dash's attitude or legs here? He's not bandy yet - just needs a butt to hold those pants up! TLW however, was all guns a'blazin'!)

A soon-dishevelled Dash soon met up with a little mate, whose hat has as much character as Dash has lack of butt! Note the trademark pants-hitch!

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There were all the usual enticements: laughing clowns and dogem cars and horse events and...

Woodchopping!

These boys are fearless, risking life, limb and an attack of vertigo to entertain...

Those axes are razor sharp... and it's a looong way down from that board!

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We also caught up with dozens of friends, watched a rodeo, perused award-winning jams, quilts, cakes and photos, watched hack classes and showjumping, and checked out the districts best chooks!

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So as you can see, I've been 'distracted' of late...

Can you imagine the state of my house?
Makes me feel like crawling right back into bed again!

I'm off to wrangle this house into the ground (or at least clean out some fridges!)

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May the dust have contendedly settled in your corners too!

BB

Television – My Own Twisted Reality

I try hard not to indulge in too much naval-gazing here. But last night Desperate Housewives was on TV while I was doing the mountain (try Swiss Alps) of folding accumulated in the corner of my living room. And I watched it with the glee and guilt that always envelopes me when I watch Completely Inappropriate TV Shows. I should explain.

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Now some of you may not think Desperate is a really inappropriate show – others will be shocked (Hi Mum!). However, if you grew up as I did – a 70’s and 80’s child; in the bush with no “real” TV (read colour and offering something other than ABC) until I was about 13 years old; with a mother who is brilliant and literate and fairly high-brow in her entertainment tastes (with the vivid and unexplainable exception of The Bill) – then you will see how the naughtiness and vulgarity that is DH would be an aberration.

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We were only allowed to watch half an hour of TV each day as kids/teenagers – and that was heavily-censored. It was a wildly exciting moment the day I was allowed to watch Count Down (to which I quickly became utterly addicted, confirming Mum's suspicion that I would be easily led astray, entertainment-wise. How right she was!).

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But back to DH. God I love it… and I adore Susan over all others – she is an extremely anorexic (and very glamorous) version of me. All elbows and good intentions and disaster. And I love, love, love the fab one-liners. And the insane storylines. (“For heaven’s sake, who in their right mind would do THAT?" Mum asked one day, as she endures DH on a sleepover. "Has anyone seen any NEWS around here lately?")

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The poor thing rolls her eyes when I implore during an after-dinner phone chat: "Can you call me back later Mum - Desperate is on” (have you ever watched The Bill?), and my father and husband follow suit and bag my choice of TV when she is around. But I am here to tell you a Fact: when they are in my house, and DH is on the tube, they are GLUED. Dad (my burly, alpha-male, old school Bloke of a Dad) has been even known to enquire off-handedly: “When are those Desperado Women on?” Ha!
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One of my other faves is McLeod’s Daughters. At first glance, to the uninitiated, this would seem like the totally appropriate show for a girl who has returned (voluntarily) from the City to the Bush. It's about girls, and the Australian country and animals and fashion...

MD has lots of glam womenfolk and lots of horseflesh, some appealing man-flesh (Alex (above) with no shirt is a real feature of this show!), romantical storylines, gorgeous houses and fab scenery… it has it all.

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But any self-respecting Bushie will tell you the show is the biggest load of garbage – the storylines just don’t hold water. (Does anyone see a common theme in my chosen shows?). They ask in consternation: But surely you can't watch that - it's outlandish. It's ridiculous. It's NOT REAL! (Damned straight, I think, that's why I love it! But I am not quite game to say it out loud)

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So I must try and hide my fascination with McLeod’s wayward but sartorially splendid Daughters – in their ludicrous mustering outfits, their fully made-up faces as they shear sheep, their insane decisions to ride a horse to the nearest neighbour rather than take a vehicle (how on earth can they ride off with tresses flowing, into the sunset to impress the neighbouring hunk otherwise?). I love it that at least half of them clearly cannot ride a horse (a noticeable lack of shots with both face and legs of the actresses). This is half the fun – it’s a comedy as well as an “Australian Drama”. Double the value, I say…
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And while I am on a roll, did anyone ever hear of Last Man Standing? It was a wonderful, witty Aussie drama/comedy set in Melbourne starring one (or two) of the cute dudes from McLeod’s:

Yummy!

(Not as yummy as you SSB, if you are by some bizarre chance actually reading this!)

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It was sort of like an Aussie Sex in the City with blokes in the main roles. Of course, I and about three others were the only souls who found it before Channel 7 (or was it 10?) buried it so late at night that only shift workers could watch it!

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There is one other disturbing link between my Completely Inappropriate TV Shows. They are all either cancelled or in their last season.
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I’m not quite game to say that my other CITVS is Grey’s Anatomy. Shhhhh. Don’t tell ABC.

And don’t tell my Mum.