Don't be like Bush Babe (Valentine's edition)

Today was apparently Valentine's Day...

I know this because I went to a dinner last night with my beloved (and our progeny). Not so much a gaze-into-each-other's-eyes romatic dinner, as a sit-around-with-friends-and-get-waited-on-by-schoolkids dinner. It was fabulous.

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It was a fundraiser for a local small school (not ours, a big THREE-teacher school nearby). An event which cost (are you ready?) $35 per couple and $5 per child - fees which included a three-course-meal (really nice and well-served) lots of fairy lights and candles, pizza for the little 'uns and babysitting. We ate and drank while others cared for our kids and cleaned up after us. The best value I have ever experienced!

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So we knew it was Valentine's Day because that was last night's dinner theme. But we aren't really into the whole card-giving, bunch-of-flowers, romantic stuff. Today started and ended much as any other day of the year. Not that we don't feel the love (she hastened to add) but we don't save it for a special day in the year. It's pretty random in our household - when the mood strikes. And let's just say it rarely takes the form of a Hallmark card.

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If you subject yourself to my twittering, you'll know that a few days ago Mr Incredible offered to take care of the kids and cook dinner, while I went out in the paddocks to take photos for a couple of hours. It was the kind of offer he knew would ring my bells. Seriously, I couldn't get out of the place fast enough. My excitement was slightly over-the-top - afternoons (as any Mum of young kids knows) is an exhausting parade of unpacking schoolbags, dealing with tired and hungry offspring through food-and-drink regeneration programs, squeezing in last-minute washing loads, preparing dinner and wondering if that sunset will last long enough for you to get a shot once the kids are out of the bath. (For the record, it hardly ever does.)

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So I went - hastily grabbing my camera bag and thanking my husband profusely on the way out of the door. He gave me a satisfied 'Why yes, I AM Husband of the Year' smile. I leapt into his ute and took off in a cloud of happy dust. I made it about five kilometres before I realised I had forgotten the parcel I was supposed to deliver to my brother en route. (Because I have to mult-task, that's why!).

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So I hauled the Toyota around and headed back to the house. With a wry smile, I grabbed the parcel and waved goodbye for a second time. My family collectively shook their heads at my forgetfulness. The word 'typical' rose in little thought bubbles above their heads.

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I got about three kilometres into the much-anticipated photo trip (I had about an hour's window of great afternoon light) when I stopped to take my first shot. Fabulous cobalt blue skies, soaring jet streams towering over rippling hills of succulent green grass... I pressed my trigger finger. Nothing. I looked down at the camera. No memory card.

Are you kidding me?

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Around I turned again, pressing the pedal to the floor to waste as little time as possible on the SECOND return to the house. Head down, I dashed into the office, mumbling something at my slightly-astonished family (is she EVER going to leave?) and out the door again. I slid the card into the back of the Nikon to check I had enough space - yup. A goer.

Off I headed again (fingers firmly crossed as I drove).

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My main challenge for the outing was to get shots of cattle for promotion for our stud. Lucky for me, the recently branded calves and their mothers were grazing peacefully near the road.

YES. I was in business.

They milled around the ute as I snapped happily away...

Lovely. Green with happy bovines. Sweet.

Pretty polled heads posing in the sunshine.

Happy days.

After gathering a nice bunch of cow shots, I drove off. I allowed myself to indulge in a little 'landscape' action (offering some much-needed relief to those who have overdosed on my Shallow Depth of Field period last week).

Bottle trees reaching above the clouds.

More boabs, rampant green grass and red roads.

Almost a sensory overload.

Well it was actually. For my camera.

It grunted, it groaned.

It stopped altogether.

Flat battery.

Yuh huh.

You heard me right.

The World's Most Impetuous Photographer failed to check ANYTHING.

I immediately sacked myself (several times actually),

And then drove home, muttering furiously about wasted opportunities.

I drove by the magnificence of utterly still water in roadside dams perfectly reflecting the dusky skies above?

You will just have to trust me - it was amazing. Amazingly frustrating with NO CAMERA.

Then I looked down and panicked - the low-fuel light was on.

(I braced myself and called in, only to be reassured via two-way radio that there was a second tank full of fule if I just pressed a button. I promptly sacked myself as a bushie as well.)

So please. In matters of photography, or romance, or country life...

Just ignore me, okay?

Because (to steal a line from a fellow Aussie blogger)

the chances I'll learn from this Valentine's escapade?

Approximately...

And the winners ARE...

Alrighty then... tis done!

We giggled and scratched our heads and snorted at your entries...

as usual it was outrageously hard to nail it down to just one winning comment
but Jeanie has spoken and

The Winner of the Bush Babe 8" x 12" print of their choice is:
Jayne!

"You know, Dash, I think I used the salad oil instead of the saddle oil last night!"

We are arguing that it could equally be said vice versa - depending on the apparent discomfort level of our erstwhile father. Heh!

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It was a hard choice. I loved Stephen's hat angle, and those who guessed something gate-related must know my Dad in real life! He lives to get others to open gates for him (his knees protest all that getting on and off!). I am taking a paddle to Pam (A Novel Woman) and The Accidental Housewife for their extremely risque remarks - well, I would, but I suspect you would both enjoy it far too much. You made us totally snort. And I am currently holding my hand over my mother's eyes. I am afraid I might have to explain y'all! Too funny...
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Oh, hang on. There was another prize wasn't there?

The Winner of the fabulous Aussie DVD "The Castle" is:


Random number generated (for total of 31 comments) - 7
And I think comment # 7 belongs to: T Lee
Persistence pays off!!
(You will have to give us your review when you get the movie!)

Thanks to everyone for taking part! We loved your work.

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And I suppose you want to know the REAL story?

(Can YOU handle the truth?)

Well... it really comes from my uncle - Dad's little brother - the ex-rodeo rider.

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When we were kids (and he was a 20-something-year-old cowboy) he would ride up behind our ponies as we rode out to muster, and stealthily lift us completely out of the saddle. (Think buckjumping horses or bulls, and that dude who flies in on another steed to lift the hapless rider from his bucking animal and away to safety). If we were lucky, the pony would just keep on walking at relatively the same pace and we could maintain our dignity and slide back into the saddle calmly. If not, we would be left mid-air, legs flailing and begging to be put down.
He would laugh uproariously and say:

"What? You never been taken off by a professional pick-up man before?".

Which was really hilarious, because we had. About a hundred times. By him. Never failed to amuse him. We learned to have eyes in the backs of our heads. And we rarely volunteered to ride out on a muster in front of him!
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So the photo that looks like my Dad was gently patting his grandson on the back was actually a prelude the same playful threat:

"Ever been lifted off by a professional, boy?".

Dash has had little experience in this department, so was too naive to be nervous. I'd say Mr Incredible's body language says "I don't think that's a great idea!". And perhaps remembering that his daughter was documenting activities behind him, Pagi had second thoughts and kept on riding...

(If you noted the comments you'll see Jeanie-the-Judge spotted the scenario immediately).

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Hope you have a great day - we are headlong into branding today so posting might be sketchy. Will check in on y'all later though.

And winners - please email me at your earliest convenience.
Au revoir...
BB

Laugh lines

I shot this photo during our rain inspection outing the other day...

... it makes me smile.

I just love that my husband smiles with his WHOLE face - one of the very first things I noticed about him actually. Right after those mesmerising blue eyes... they caught my attention but it was the crinkling smile that did me in.

My mother also smiles with everything she has - her delight reflected in every corner of her face. Her lines are happy reminders of a million smiles. They tell the world about her character and it's a beautiful thing.

Do you think celebrities (and others) who freeze their faces realise what they steal away, when they try to steal back years? That the very light in them that made them beautiful to begin with is dimmed by that effort?

Smile crinkles rule.

Gimme Gimme Some Lovin'

Letting the pictures do the talking today...

Axel with Mr Incredible.

Proving once and for all that

ANY attention is good attention,

...as far as Danes are concerned.

Oh, and one more thing,

to keep things in perspective:

The End.

Shrek and the Swamp

You know how we have a pool?

A pool my father built when he was just a teenager?

A pool that provides some serious relief from the Aussie heat in the summer months?

And you know how (despite many, many lotto entries)

we still don't have Sven the pool boy at our beck and call?

And did you also know that our pool pump decided to up and DIE over winter?

So, as Summer approached at a gallop, our lovely big pool actually resembled

the Shrek Swamp in consistency and colour?

Not pretty - you can thank me later for not taking a photo of it

in all it's mucky glory!

...

It reminded me of when Jeanie and our brother Pig and I were kids

(the pool was built very much pre-filtration)

and Dad would simply skim the leaves etc off the top,

pull the cane toads out,

and in we would dive.

We never expected to see the bottom of the pool,

and were quite amazed at the council pools

with their blue clear stingy-eyes water.

Of course, the toad thing wasn't so great.

I had dreams/nightmares about diving into a pool

with ONLY toads in it.

*Shudder*

...

Anyway, we bought a new pool pump a few weeks ago

but it just couldn't handle the degree of Shrek-ness of our pool.

(say after me: 'YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE SHREK-NESS!')

We decided to give in, pump out the filth

and irrigate some parched pasture

with the old water and start afresh.

Which is when a lovely big cloud

dropped almost two inches of rain on our house!

Yay! But OY the timing...

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So yesterday Dad (Pagi), my hard-working hubby (Mr Incredible)

and the kids got scrubbing.

While I took photos.

And I mowed the lawn.

(So what if it's a ride-on mower!

Laziness is no good unless it is well carried out!)

Ever seen a bush pool cleaned out?

Well, I am here to inform and educate...

if not to scrub!

Pick the lazy bones in this family portrait...

Hello!!!!
You can clearly see where the boys have been scrubbing

and where they have not.

I'm telling you, this pool was FILTHY.

Dash was on hose duty, with Violet wielding a small red brush.

I suspect she was using it more to point out the spots that needed attention,

than actually scrubbing...

She's a chip off the old block, that one.

(Her Ma is so proud!)

By the time I had done the mowing the pool job was pretty much done,

with just the final sweeping of last bits of brown sludge

into the 'trap' hole in the floor of the deep end for bucketing out.

We find water guns most helpful to help cool Daddy off when the sweeping work gets too sweaty... I use the term 'we' loosely - cameras don't like water too much!

As you can see, Dash and Violet revelled in this chore...

They care little about mucky water... it was wet and cool and fun!

We did give Mr Incredible a break eventually, with a pool-side coffee.

With the pool empty and relatively clean, we turned the hose on.

The kids lay on the pool floor and let the water trickle past them...

Our own water park!

Of course the garden hose will take a few days to fill this monster hole,

so I can't yet give you an 'after' photo just yet...

In the meantime...

Heeeeeeeere's Axel...

the pool-side boot-minder:

He's about as useful as I am!

WEATHER WATCH WEDNESDAY: Patchy

As you may know (if you listen to my Twitter twaddle) we had a little rain during the week. Actually, we measured an impressive two inches of rain (well, nearly). It was wonderful, and I do admit to actually standing out in it arms spread wide in wonder... revelling in the heavy wet drops as they plunged into our parched paddocks.

Unbelievably we had decided to pump out our pool (the pump broke down and it has resembled the Shrek Swamp all winter - the new machine could not get on top of the accumulated sludge). We decided that the thirsty almost-dead grass in the pastures nearby needed the water more than we did, and had set up sprinklers for a mini-irrigation program. As we turned the sprinklers on, the rain started. Hello Mother Nature! You funny thing...

It wasn't til I was in the Prado, picking the kids up from the school bus that it REALLY started to get serious. We even had bits of hail - a fact Mr Incredible attempted to prove to me mid-storm. He had dashed out into the sheeting rain to grab a tiny chip of ice when BANG. A massive bolt of lightening stuck in the houseyard. The look on his face was spectacular and he retreated under a tree. This of course is NOT advisable during thunderstorms and I screamed at him to GET into the house pronto. He did. With some impressive speed.

And after showing off the retrieved ice chip (hmmm) to the kids, I asked if he was OK. He advised me that he was fine but he did get a bit of a shock and my washing might be a tad more arduous than usual. Lovely.

Anyway, after-effects of the storm are:
1. We got 46.5mm of wonderful rain.
2. The bolt of lightening hit our two-way radio tower and we no longer have a working radio in the house. I am enjoying the silence, but the boys are getting frustrated that I am not at their beck and call. (Heh)
3. The rain appears to have fallen almost exclusively in our houseyard. Neighbours got just 18mm (2 kms away) and dust was flying before I got 10km from the house (on the way into town). Some of our property received no rain at all.
4. I don't have to water the garden for a few days - my baby veges are thinking they are in heaven.
5. I need to remember this is not all about me.
6. I passed a fire truck putting out a fire beside the road just 15km from home yesterday. "Patchy rain" sucks for those not under the correct patches.
7. I still have to do the washing. That'll teach me to snicker.
8. Taking photos in the rain is not great for one's camera. Or one's lens. Or one's actual photos.


What's it like in your neck of the woods?
Do you want rain?
Are you sick of rain?
Are you growing webbed feet?
Is it snowing?
I love hearing your answers... share!

Please note: the competition posted this week is still open.
Add your suggestions here and WIN!
You have til 10pm Granite Glen time (see the clock on sidebar)...

BAN the BABIES

Not sure if I have mentioned before that half of my family either has new babies, is cooking up new babies or is thinking of heading down that crazy, sleepless path... it's a little insane!

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I waver between thinking 'two healthy ones is quite enough' to 'gosh, that is TOTALLY gorgeous and I'd quite like me another one of those'. My husband is of the latter persuasion. He watches my swinging opinion like a spectator watches a tennis match: head bobbing back and forth, with a slightly bemused expression on his face. I wonder aloud if I am too old, how I would possibly cope out in the sticks if we ended up with a sick child (cause you know I have real experience there), and how my two adored offspring would cope with a new intrusion. He is wonderfully patient with this emotional internal debate I have, but sometimes, just sometimes, his real feelings become kinda obvious.

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Like at my cousin's wedding a couple of weeks ago.

This is Edwin, who has always been fairly freaking handsome, but appears to have morphed into the ultimate baby boy in the last couple of months. He is strong and has the clearest blue eyes, and just happily sat against Mr Incredible's chest and gazed upon the reception gathering with interest, making the occasional pertinent 'gah' at his legion of admiring fans.

Oh those two faces...HELP!

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It's almost enough to drive a girl to religion:

Dear Lord,

This child is NOT helping my resolve.

Please let him scream the next time my husband holds him.

Just to keep it real for me.

Amen.

Path to happiness...

Can mere bricks and mortar make a girl happy?

(Or even a close-to-middle-aged battling-to-stay-brunette female?)

I pose this question today, because over the weekend,

my ever-lovin' Hubby of the Year undertook a mission

which indeed brings me enormous joy.

Remember these pavers?

Of the 'Oh my God, she nearly lost them' variety?

Yar.

Well Mr Incredible put me out of my misery on Saturday

(the lop-sided load in the trailer parked right outside the front gate

was a painful reminder of my perilous trip home from Big Town last week!)

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So he got to work...

He had some help of course... here Violet does what Violet does best:

Supervise.

"I fink you need more sand Daddy!"

Dash was busily doing his best to actually help but failing to follow instructions completely (as most seven-year-old boys are wont to do) and pour extra water into the wheelbarrow instead of the cement mixer.

Oops.

Mr Incredible did recover, but that first load was mighty sloppy!

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And our other family member?

Well he sulked a lot after being chained up near the action

- Great Dane puppies and wet cement -

not a combo we were willing to try!

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Here is the second load of wet cement being poured into the pathway already dug out by my energetic hubby.

Hey... I carried some of the pavers.

(And I have the sore abs and arm muscles to prove it!)

It was totally a team effort!

I liked the look of the tool and the cement...

OK, I was possibly not being particularly useful at this exact moment!

Let's not get picky...

This path originally had several large pavers that Mum had bought 'temporarily' placed like stepping stones between our patio and the gate - over about 7 metres.
Couch grass used to grow between them but with so much foot traffic (dog and young human mostly) it had become very bare and dust (or muddy) and a bit of a nightmare for anyone contemplating cleaning floors in our house. (And I do occasionally contemplate such activity. Sometimes I even do it!)

So it was with great excitement that I anticipated a non-dirt walkway for my house-bound traffic. Mr I would pour a couple of loads of cement and then carefully lay the pavers on top.

This is a clever scheme to simultaneously prevent the pavers from moving AND stopping weeds erupting from the path...

Dash and Violet were particularly helpful off-siders.

Dash even managed not to step in the wet concrete...

And while I carted armfuls of the bricks back and forth, I admired the precision of my paving man... here he demonstates the herringbone pattern.

As they say in the classics: I LOVE HARD WORK...

I could watch it all day long!

And that's pretty much how long it took.

As you can see from the shadows, this was taken at about 4pm.

Still a few more pavers to cut for the odd-shaped holes in the path,

and a heap more landscaping to do around it,

but my path is basically built.

Viola!

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Of course, not everyone understands my excitement at such things....

Axel appeared to take up 'stick-smoking' to break the boredom.

Swing high, sweet chariot!

Mr Incredible had a bit of a construction frenzy on the weekend.

We have been so busy with Beef Week and then weaning all the calves here that there has been no time for 'around the house' stuff. It's the one thing they don't tell you about life on the land: that the men spend all their time and energy on the property and fences and the water and the cattle ... and you have to actually hog tie them to get any man-chores done within coo-ee of the house. And there is kind of an avalanche of jobs waiting when they finally put aside a day to 'help out at home'.

One wag refers to having to face up to the house paddock jobs as being 'caught in the dingo trap'!

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Not sure Mr I quite feels like that yet (I have hidden the master list from view for the time being!) but the fact is our kids have been waiting for a playground setup for two-and-a-half years!

...

Last Saturday he picked up the chainsaw and headed out into the paddock.

And came back dragging three massive logs behind the tractor.

I asked him what he was up to...

'The swing,' was his succinct reply.

He is very succinct.

Hates wasting words.

Actually speaks in shorthand.

(I may have picked up some of that communication style, now I come to think about it!)

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Anyway, within a few hours, the swing set (which we had bought three years ago) was up.
Up and swinging!

Do you think the Violet and Dash enjoyed the new addition to our backyard?

Our fearless daughter was ready to rumble..

And Dash shrieked and grinned until his eyes disappeared...

Higher!

Higher Daddy!

That look would say: "Thanks Dad"

(and also: Higher!)

Handling the General

It's been a while since I shared anything on Admiral's son...

the one you guys named various things

but we ended up calling General.

(Sorry - I have no real control over anything here at Granite Glen!)

We said a sad goodbye to his sister

who travelled over 1000km back to her 'real' owner!

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We have been watching General grow taller, thicker and develop a shaggy winter coat.

His Roman nose (bit like his Daddy) is becoming quite pronounced...

He really is quite a little personality.

Watchful and a little feisty....

But strong and athletic too...

Of course he is responding

to Mr Incredible's regular handling sessions,
and did well at his very first halter & lead experience.

I remember my first halter and lead with Mr I...

but I digress!
(Mum, I am kidding!)

He's no cuddler or sook,

but he has that certain 'something' that makes us think

he'll be an agile, active and handy cattle worker.
And y'all know how much Mr I enjoys his cattle work

('specially in the sporting arena)

...

Perhaps our little one star General will be a campdrafter one day?

Time will tell.

In the meantime,

he'll get a month or so more with his Mama (Jill)...

before he is weaned and 'bushed' for a year to grow out...

Enjoy your foal days my friend...

You'll be a big boy all too soon!