Happiness, history and the laundry from hell

When our little flood caused some local excitement last week,

I took a lot of photos. It's what I do. I can't help myself...

For instance, I took photos of my once-again-filthy car...

I COULD moan about how I had JUST cleaned the blessed thing two days earlier.

And whinge and bitch about how it took me HOURS to scrub the last of the red dust from the corners and crevices of the doors and wheels. But really, do I EVER take photos of the clean version to show you, so you'd believe a second of the carry-on? No. So this is why I don't bother. Aren't you pleased I showed such restraint today?

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So I have settled upon something far more interesting...

If you've been around here a while, you might recall a very old bridge which crosses the 'river' a couple of kilometres downstream from our house.

For those who haven't trawled back through the archives (and I'm talking two years ago here folks) here is a taste. This is The Old Bridge circa March, 2008:

And here is my family on the Old Bridge...

It's a groovy old structure with lots and lots of character (and believe me, it REQUIRES a lot of character to actually drive over it)! This bridge that spent a decade or so completely submerged when our dam (a good 15km further downstream) filled in the '70s. Over the years it has survived some serious slamming of logs and goodness knows what else... and it has the scars to show it.

While we are at historical/hysterical moments of astonishment - how much has THIS little woman grown up in two years?

*heavy sigh*

Anyway, where was I?

Oh yes, there was some excitement two years ago when this little run of water came down the river...

...a mere trickle really.

If you recall, the action then was more human and canine related.

But this time,

...this time it was Mother Nature letting it rip.

Yikes.

No bridge walks for us on this week.

Those barely visible posts are the entry points to the bridge...

The water was already falling here - it had been about two feet higher than this before we arrived (you can see if you look closely at the darker flattened grass on the other side of the river...

By tomorrow, the water will be back to it's usual barely-there situation.

Many megalitres however have topped up parched underground reservoirs, and some of this even made it's way all the way down the river bed to the dam. A dam which has gone from two percent capacity (a puddle) to ... are you ready for it... FIVE percent! Whoo-hooo!

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Of course, in amongst the celebrating (and the odd spot of sarcasm) there is the anticipation of the least-popular job on Granite Glen.

Rebuilding river crossings.

All the fences swept downstream by the water need to be put back up. Twisted barbed wire tangled in mud and dead things and all kinds of smelly grossness... a job requiring the workers to get down and dirty. In hip-deep and sometimes chest-deep filth.

Guess who gets that task... no, not me if I can help it!

But who d'ya think gets to wash his feral clothes?

What?

Am I whinging again?

Sorry.

I think the Yanks call it "keeping it real".

See you after the laundry from hell.

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.

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?

New month, new header, no new weather!

Thought I'd sneak a little peak into the making of a blog header for y'all... no idea if anyone is remotely interested in how I come up with my bizarre 'doorway' into the Bush Babe blog, but thought I'd share a snapshot or two anyway!

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I was driving home from Rock-Vegas yesterday afternoon (a long day filled with driving, grocery shopping and editing video footage... rivetting stuff!) when I saw a photo opportunity. Actually, it's rare that I DON'T see photo opportunities (it's kind of a curse really, just ask my hubby - hell of ETAs!) and I often keep on driving, aware of my schedule. But I made myself act on it this time. The ever-changing landscape and weird dust-tinted atmosphere converged into a really interesting shot.

Well, series of shots.

These were all taken within about one kilometre of highway,

same windmill,

different angles.

Groovy, no?

And when I looked at my blog today,

and then the date,

I decided:

Alrighty then!

Time for a change!

Time to dabble in Photoshop...

So I chose the last of these images (nice and clean to allow for the wording) and pulled up last months banner:

And dragged my old font work across from previous banners

(saved in PSD format which preserves each layer of image and text, allowing me to 'harvest' the basic 'look' of my header from month to month... did your eyes just go all stary?)

So I took the 'Bush Babe' and the 'of Granite Glen' across to my windmill image and began work on a new look.
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If you have been 'round here much at all, you will know that I can't have a 'straight' image in the header... that wouldn't really be me, would it?

A little something left of centre, maybe...

Something like this?

Well, it's left of centre for HIM!!

And yes, that WAS me cracking myself right up there!

I also adore a particular script font I decided on for the taglines -

it's called Jane Austen and it's my current crush.

(Am I the only person who crushes on fonts? Yes, fine, OK. I'm a freak!).

It's lovely and scrawly and elegant.

Therefore it has one of those three things in common with me...

(and if you've seen my chook scratch running writing you will know what I mean!)
So ...

here 'tis.

Dust. Windmills. Bull snot.

It screams ME (this week)...

Welcome to my world!

Sounds of Driving...

It's late... my brain is a little fried from trying to help edit a promotional video for our cattle. More on that down the track. First, I thought I might share a little of what I have been singing along to in the Prado throughout my 600+ kilometre round trip today...

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Thankfully, I had the car to myself. Nobody's sensibilities were adversely affected by my terrible karaoke voice - although cannot vouch for those in other cars subjected to the vision of a woman in a white tank top flying past them lip-synching wildly to the following artists:

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Firstly a little U2.. .

Oooooh The Sweetest Thing...

"Blue eyed boy meets brown eyed girl... ooohhhh oh.." *

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Then a bout of Guy Sebastian

"In the Midnight Hour" *

"I’m gonna wait 'til the stars come out... See them twinkle in your eyes..."

That boy can hit a falsetto that makes my eyes water!

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Then, of course, some Dooby Brother's

China Grove...

Truly one of the all-time great driving songs!

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Tell me...

What music do you drive to?

What rocks your socks, makes you jive as you drive?

And (most importantly) are you as bad a singer as me?

Waiting your reply with bated breath...

BB

*Would totally love to show these clips here but the rotten scoundrels have disabled embedding - some music companies are just no fun at all!

Granite, grass and What Got Shot

Among the seventy gazillion jobs I have taken on out here in the bush, is a voluntary marketing role for a big (bovine) event in a couple of years time. This long-term project will require images... lots and lots of images. So guess what I did recently, with two kids in tow, and while Mr Incredible was off working elsewhere?

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Yep. Have Nikon, will shoot.

Here's some of What Got Shot...

Red brangus cows grazing peacefully on a granite flat near our (non-running) river.

(You can almost see it in the background above).

Not a bad start...

Then I decided to 'go bush' with the Prado and get some more close-up paddock pics of some cows and calves... Dash and Violet thought carefully for about 2 seconds about whether they would like to come with me for a little walk in the grass.

They said "No thanks"...

And put their feet up...

Here is one of the reasons why...

This is spear grass - a native grass to Queensland.

And it has zillions of little wiry 'spears' tangled at the top of each tuft of grass... effective for spreading it's seeds...

Right into the fur - or skin- of whatever passes by...

Nice.
Not.

I took about half an hour shooting cows and calves belly-deep in spear grass ... only had to break up two sibling punch-ups during that time! Then drove some more. Then took some more pics of cows and calves belly-deep in sepia grass...

And eventually, of course, the kiddos needed to stretch their legs.

After a couple of hours of being cooped up in the Prado, they needed (apparently) to feel the granite beneath their feet...

My son has the longest toes on the planet.

Seriously, they are like fingers...

And they hang on too - he scaled this boulder like a lizard.
(That analogy sounded better in my head!)

Then it was time to ... well... run away, run away!

I'm not sure why.

An attack of the 'mad sillys' as my Mum would say.

Which of course ended in tears.

She often says that too!

These guys on the horizon helped distract the runaways on the drive home...

So you see?

I start off with a clear goal in mind, and what do I end up with?

Grass and granite.

Rocks and roos.

You see how easily distracted I get...

now...

was someone after cow photos??

The Bush 'Finger Wave' lesson

Most of you - having read the title of this post - will be expecting this content to be rude and obnoxious and a wee bit cranky.
Go on, admit it!
Really, you should know me better than that...

For today I bring you a special little lesson that will stand you in very good stead, should you ever find yourself smack bang in the middle of the Australian bush. Well, smack bang somewhere on a road, somewhere in the Australian Bush. Because I'm not sure koalas get much out of what I am about to share...
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We'll start in the Big Smoke for The Great Bush Finger Wave Lesson.

(Hello Brisbane roads... you look nice from up here!)Now all the years I lived in the city, the only 'finger wave' I observed was employed by most drivers as an offensive move. You know... there you are happily minding your own business, trying to get into the correct lane before a major road exit at peak hour, and the person in the hotted up yellow Monaro behind you gives you the centre digit for daring to slow them down by 4 entire seconds. Not that I was overly pushy as a city driver. Well, not much. I was just fast and accurate. In my humble opinion. The joy of having been a journo is that all your senses get pretty numbed to abuse. I would always smile and blow the finger-waver a kiss. Works a treat. You can honestly see the steam coming out of their ears! *cackles evilly*

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When we moved back to Granite Glen after I had been officially away from 'home' for well over two decades, I found an entirely different way of dealing with passing traffic.

For a start there's not so much of it.

(Duh, Bush Babe! I hear you say... I can hear you, so keep it clean, OK?)

And the scenery is much better - more peaceful and soothing.

It's not just the grass and trees and contented cows that lend country roads these qualities, it's the lack of billboards. The lack of people trying frantically to sell you stuff. The absence of billboards is really good for the brain and the soul. (Aside: I'm not much on hard-sell of anything really. Unless it involves someone dying if I don't listen. I'd just like to share that disclaimer!)

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Anyway, it must be the lack of traffic and billboards, because out here, there is none of that middle-digit business going on behind the steering wheel.

It's more of an INDEX FINGER manoeuvre.

And it's like TOTALLY FRIENDLY.

Mr Incredible will demonstrate.

(He just loves being a hand model!)

Here is the scenario:

Say you see a car coming along the road towards you...but you don't really recognise the driver. However it could be someone you know. Or someone related to someone you know. Or a potential bull buyer/client. So you do this...

This signal says: "G'day!"

It says: "I acknowledge you, and your right to be sharing this road with me."

It says: "Hope you have a safe trip and a good day."

All that without lifting your palm from the wheel.

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The second option is the number 2 Finger Wave...

Now this has a tad more energy to it.

This signal says: "G'day there mate, you are the man!"

(or woman, we don't discriminate)

It says: "Geez it's great to see you!"

And even possibly: "Let's have a beer together really soon!"

It's a great way to communicate - little effort for a good vibe all round. And for my shy, non-garrulous man, it's an excellent way to be friendly without actually having to go up to someone and make conversation. Because there is very little chance of him actually verbalising these last lot of statements... OK number three has a real chance, but the first two - no way!

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So there it is.

Two easy moves for you to try on some unsuspecting locals on your roads.

Reckon you are up for it?

Even if your roads don't look like this!

Tell me how you fare...

Go in peace.

Bush Babe

Raindrops and red roads...

I adore rain.

Love it, love it, love it.

Even ensconced in the Big City, the sound of it humming down on the roof made me smile. Even decades after being officially 'citified' I would grin like Luna Park at every cloudburst.

There it washed the smog from the skies,

the petrol fumes from my nostrils,

the salt crust from the duco.

Here, it cleanses the air,

settles the dust,

revives the countryside...

and also it's inhabitants.

It washes my soul clear of discontent.

It's raining right now.

Fat drops, roar then patter.

Kids giggling inside, horses wheeling madly in the outide shower.

Energised by the dancing of the rain.

And I smile.

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Of course, I also washed the car today for the first time in three weeks.

Red dust (that tell-tale bush brand) banished once more from my white vehicle.

I should have known better...

Because you know that equation?

White car + Rain + Red roads =

This.

Still. Smiling.
*sigh*

Come drive with me, let's drive... part 2

Apparently no-one got too carsick last post,

so here is the second instalment for those not adverse to dirt roads

and the weirdness offered by the Great Australian Bush!

Seatbelts done up?

Righto!

Take it away Mr I!

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The second part of our journey was on the way home

from our romantic (read: non-washing up-involving) lunch

at the local pub...

for the record I had a steak sandwich.

I always do.

(Keeping those ol' iron levels healthy there!)

So this is one of the views from the road about half an hour into the trip.

This is country I have never seen before...

despite the fact that it is within an hour of home.

I am a bit ashamed of this, I have to say.

I know certain cities better than I know my own back yard!

It is beautiful, no?

This shot shows some Brangus cattle grazing contentedly on a flat near a creek amongst the blue gums. It doesn't get a whole lot more restful, and Queensland country, than this...

I heart blue gums!

And then we stumbled across something really remarkable which cause me to call out:

STOP. RIGHT. NOW.

And with hardly a long-suffering sigh, Mr Incredible did halt the Prado.

I am going to show you the pics in reverse order...

see if you can work out what it is...

And here endeth the lesson:

When a woman weilding a Nikon calls out, you must stop the car to take photos.

Imagine missing that prickly pear in flower?

And here is the final shot of our trip.

Another dirt road.

Granite Glen was still 40 minutes drive away, but I was sated.

Was it good for you too?