Old Stuff #1

I love Old Stuff. My husband, when given the chance, would joke that that's because I can identify with it (that's what happens when you marry a toy-boy - you get reminded about your age forever. Lucky he's so cute and I'm so easy-going!).

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I always have loved things that have stood the test of time: weathered timber, rusted gates, wonderful creased faces that can tell a million stories without a word being spoken. I understand people trying to hang onto their youth, but have trouble coming to terms with cosmetic facelifts which change appearance dramatically - people often seem to lose the special character that makes them them somehow?

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And there are better ways to regain your youth I reckon. Besides marrying a Toy Boy/Cowboy!

But back to the Old Stuff...

My father is horrified at my habit of taking photos of the Old Stuff round Granite Glen. Looks like the place is bloody falling down! It's not, of course (well most of it is in pretty good nick anyway).

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It's just more interesting when it's older and more worn. Photographic wise.

Don't you think?

Anyway, gotta drag my ancient 40-year-old backside into the kitchen to get dinner ready for the hungry hordes. Not sure I can muster the energy for anything gourmet after a day at the yards, branding and mothering calves. Hmmm, not calf nuts?

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Keep smiling (and don't forget to check back for some branding pics and stories soon!)

Bush(ed) Babe

But first the clouds...

We have just started the branding here, and I am exhausted.

I should be sleeping. But I need to post (a sudden addiction I cannot explain as my previous life was blog-free and no need-to-post affliction affected me at all. Most peculiar).

And I will post on branding soon.

When I have time. When I have more photos with which to shock and amaze...

When I am not so Stuffed.

Instead, today's post is about clouds. The ones I will think of as I drift off to sleep shortly...

I cannot tell you how much I love clouds. SSB cannot begin to comprehend my fascination with them: They are CLOUDS woman!

Perhaps - but to me they are beautiful. Soft and fluffy, silly and wispy, or heavy and threatening (much like women!). They are most especially gorgeous when they hold rain, or the real promise of rain, after so many years of drought.

They taunt and tantalise, they tease and then split and fulfil - with delightful sunshowers, or drenching, delicious downpours.

I love that they are ever-changing, ever-moving, that my kids can see flowers and bumblebees (The Little Woman) and guns and Buzz Lightyear (Dash) in the same formations gliding overhead.

I love that they give you unexpected halleluja! moments and then conspire to cover their Biblical drama within seconds.

So don't take your clouds for granted - especially when the world is a little blue - the show is free.

Love

Bush Babe

Quote of the Day #1

"Your blood is worth bottling"

Quotee: Bush Babe's Dad

Alternate version: You little bottler!

Translation: "You are a top person" or "Job well done!"

Mighty praise (especially when uttered by old bushies)

NB Is quotee even a word?

Bullseye!

We have lots of animals here at Granite Glen. It’s a farm, so that’s a good thing.

Our menagerie includes: working kelpie-cross dogs (8), a half-wild black cat (1), working Australian Stock horses (too many to count), Brangus and Brahman-cross cattle (ditto), various non-tame animal life such as wallabies and roos (out-of-bounds to shooters while in our house paddock), emus, snakes and wild pigs (yeukkk - never out of bounds to shooters) … and then there are the kids ponies.

They come in all shapes and sizes, they are bought and borrowed, grey (you must not call them 'white' - Pony Club teaches you all sorts of useful things!) and black and the colours in between. They are usually characters.

One such little pony came into our lives last year. He had the same name as Dash initially, but Dash had other ideas. Inspired by his then-favourite movie (Toy Story) he was immediately re-dubbed ‘Bullseye’. It was a good fit ‘cause Dash looks a bit like the little cowboy, Woody – his limbs are long and lanky and his butt is just as scrawny!

The new addition to Granite Glen had plenty of 'personality' too – he was absolutely TINY (a cross between a Shetland and a Shetland Pony and standing less than one metre tall at the wither) and full of attitude.

Note the difference in height between the TOP of Bullseye and SSB's knee on his normal-sized horse!

He was gorgeous to look at – chestnut and white with a wild thick mane and tail. His tiny white hooves were smaller than a tea cup, and he was agile and lithe in his movement. He walked fast and with purpose - tapping along on those tiny hooves like a four-footed Tap Dog.

Bullseye wasn’t really bad so much as, well, cheeky and naughty – indeed, once a kid was on his back he was quite the little gentleman.

But all bets were off once he was unloaded.

He dashed around little ones to get through the gate first, darted and ducked to be first at the pellet bucket. Luckily he was small enough to grab and hold back (for me anyway, not for Dash and The Little Woman, who yelled at him to not be so naughty!). He never kicked out, but would threaten with his miniscule little rump if he was being thwarted. His manners made me fume, and I just couldn’t trust him alone with the kids.

In an effort to improve his attitude, I would make him wait for his feed. Sit by the feed trough and refuse to empty the scoop into his part of the feeder until he showed some manners, and ate nicely from the palm of my hand. It took up to half an hour for this to happen initially, but he gradually improved. The kids sat by me and tried it too.

They learned the value of patience with animals.
Despite his "shortcomings" (haha, oh dear!) Bullseye managed to worm his way into our affections. He was also the first to take my firstborn mustering. Mustering was a reasonably easy endeavour when the season was dry, with visibility pretty much 20-20, but less so after our much-needed rains.

It was a sight to behold. Well, it would have been: Bullseye plus Dash simply didn’t add up to the height of the grass in the paddock being mustered. The men joked about losing them both if they let Bullseye off the lead. They roared as they imagined a rustling and waving of fluffy grass heads indicating the little duo, like the bubbles of an underwater diver. Dash was not amused. Even reassured that no-one was going to cut him loose in the towering buffel grass, all he got to see was the rear end of Dad’s horse and lots of grass seeds. Not fun apparently.

Nonetheless, Dash and Bullseye were little mates. They shared carrots and apples, and many a ride within the confines of the mega GG house yard. It was a happy (if not hiccup-free) relationship. They were growing together and gaining confidence in each other.
Then last week something happened.

The kind of thing that happens the world over, and regularly in the bush. It was an accident. No-ones fault.

Bullseye (as usual) was being naughty – he had escaped his paddock and put himself in with the Big Horses. The Big Horses were less than amused at this little upstart and ignored him. Then SSB put them all into a yard to sort them out. Then visitors arrived and he went to say “G’day”. Then the dogs (who had been let out of their pens to have a run) found the horses. And barked and annoyed them. And annoyed them. And annoyed SSB. So SSB went down to the yards again to sort them all out. And then it happened. Right before his eyes.

One dog got too close to the Big Horses. So one of the taller geldings lashed out with a hind hoof. And Bullseye dashed across the mob to evade another dog. And the two connected. Bullseye.

SSB was just metres away. Dumbfounded. The suddenly still horses and dogs looked around. But not Bullseye. He didn’t move.

SSB reckons he must’ve died instantly. Maybe a broken neck. Just a motionless little orange and white body in the middle of the yard. And a stricken, disbelieving look on SSB’s face.

I took the kids and visiting cousins for an abrupt drive up the paddock. SSB took care of the tough stuff. I couldn't bear to think about it.

I told Dash the next morning. My heart aching for my little man and his pony. He cried. Said it wasn’t fair. And was Bullseye on top of the ground or under?

Then we made some bouquets. And a little garden in his honour. But not on top of Bullseye.

RIP, Bullseye, you naughty little beggar. We miss you.

Bush Babe

Moonshine and roses...

Among the amazing sights out here in the Aussie bush is the universe... that's right, cause I reckon I can see pretty much all of it from our backyard. Well, at night anyway.

It's one of the things that really hit me when we moved out here - something that had somehow dimmed in my memory of Home during the 20+ years I had lived in suburbia. The sheer star power of this place.

It's bloody spectacular. No other words for it.

The night sky is so bright and "milky" (aha!) that you don't need any other light source to see the landscape when there is a clear sky. I have no knowledge of what star is where (aside from the Southern Cross) but the incredible, breathtaking beauty of it would stop a hardened bushie in their tracks.

Makes me ache for a proper telescope or telescopic lense. Alas I haven't one. Just a little 28-200mm Tamron that has seen better days. So when the lunar eclipse (I nearly said moon-er!) took place a few months ago, I had to TRY and capture the event. Hand-held against the kids swing, this is the best I could do.

Still pretty groovy, and a surreal shade of terracotta and if you look REAL close, you can see a star or two. There were about 3 million more.

I not only inherited some spectacular skies when we moved back to Granite Glen, but also a rose garden.

I know nothing about roses. I know less than nothing about gardening. Therefore I thought I should take a photo of one of my blooms before the bush perishes at my black-thumb.

At least I can't kill the stars!

Happy Gardening and Star-Gazing

Bush Babe

Magic Mushrooms?

During the recent wet weather, something amazing happened at Granite Glen.

Besides transforming the countryside into an amazing shade of verde, the rain coaxed some mushrooms to reveal themselves on our lawn.

I grabbed the camera...

It is easy to imagine how fairies sprung to the imagination in days gone by, when mushrooms (ahem) mushroomed from nothingness to tiny little white-and-pink umbrellas.

Indeed, the front yard of Granite Glen could easily have been home to a tiny Tinkerbell or two.

Or a family of Tinkerbells.

Or perhaps a whole village of Tinkerbells...

I zoomed out - what on earth was going on?

A perfect circle of mushrooms, right there.

In my vivid imagination, this could have meant anything - from faerie festivals to alien aircraft landing signs.

Thankfully I have my SSB to prick my bubble:

"Probably where the roots of an old stump were," was his half-amused response when shown this mystical site.

Oh.

Ah well, I'll still be keeping my eye out for Tinkerbell ... perhaps she sleeps in old stump roots too?

My new 'pet'... or not

Yesterday I arrived home from a supplies visit to town to find a someone new had taken up residence at Granite Glen...

"Damn, she's home! "I'll try to look like part of the lawn"
"Aarrgghhh... she's shooting me with that black thing!"

"OK - she can't possibly see me now - camoflague is a gift!"

"You are kidding - can't she see I'm a stick?"
"Geez lady, what's your story? Go put the groceries away!"

See how I am a STICK!!!!!"

"OK, you asked for it - I'm retreating to the damned lavendar! Goodbye..."

I am not sure what to call our newest resident? Cheeky, that's for sure! He is a sand goanna who likes my garden (well it does look a bit wild at the moment!). I'm not that keen on goannas so close, mainly cause they eat disgusting rotting things and don't clean their teeth properly.

However, they do keep snakes away. And I REALLY don't like snakes. No matter how much Steve Irwin tried to show me the folly of my ways (another post for that one!). So I am in a bind: get SSM to relocate our little prehistoric mate, or leave him in our garden and wonder if the billy lids are getting up close and personal with our newest "pet".

Life in the bush... never boring!

Bush Babe