The Dope versus The Panther

I must apologise for many, many things in the following post...
Firstly, I apologise to all those who believe dogs are better than cats.

I am actually one of you, deep down.

It's a fact, or as Dash would protest "I am TRUE".

But this post will not bear witness to my deep and abiding love of pooches. Especially my pooch. The daft dawg.

Secondly, I apologise to all those who take blogging in the slightest bit seriously.

I cannot. It's a problem I have. I will be attempting a Dr Doolittle angle here, and you should be warned about that up front. You have time to escape. Read on at your peril.

And thirdly, I apologise to all 'real photographers' out there reading this.

I have no real excuse for the quality of the following images. Other than the fact I was laughing so damned hard I lost all control of focus. And framing.

I am hopeless. But you already knew that.

Enough grovelling.

...

Time for the action that almost sent me for my Depends.

Hold onto your hats and your sense of humour.

You may need both...

...

THE PLAYERS

.

MIDDY

AKA 'Midnight'

AKA 'The Black Panther of Granite Glen'

'I am not actually a common domestic feline,

I am, in fact, The Black Panther...

Oh, you may smile dismissively, my friends, at my grand claim.

Those who doubt my powers do so at their own peril.

Be warned. Purrrrrrrr.'

...

AXEL ROSE
AKA 'Ackssssssssssellllllllllllllll Roooosse'

AKA 'Boofhead'

'Whaddya mean 'boofhead'?

I ain't no boofhead... watch me move, baby!

I am big, I am lithe, I am agile,

I am GREAT DANE!

What?

What was that sound... who goes there?

Mum?

Was that you?

Aaaarrrooooooo....'

...
Enough of the credits...

PRESS THE

PLAY BUTTON

now!

THE END.

...

Well it would be the end, except this pair repeated the scene OVER and OVER and OVER again in our backyard until I could not see for tears of hysterical laughter.

Axel just DOESN't get it.

WHY won't she play with him?

Danes are gorgeous but seriously, seriously dumb.

And they have REALLY flappy lips.

Man I ♥ that dog.

And that cat?
She still just ♥'s me when she wants food.
And the world is as it should be.

THE REAL END.

People (who need people)

If you have been following our recent sojourn to the city,

you could be forgiven for thinking we just interacted with buildings.

After all, my photos have pretty much always of the architecture

(hardly surprising seeing as how I actually studied it for 18 months... are you shocked? It's true, on occasion I CAN concentrate for extended periods of time!).

...

But in actual fact, our trip was really mostly

about the people...

OK, not these actual people (I don't know these uni kids from Adam)

but I needed a good segue from buildings to people.

Heh.

I spent Day One with a lovely friend of mine from Granite Glen, searching the corridors of the Gift Fair - kilometres and kilometres of shiny knick knacks and toys and wrapping and lurid watches - for photo frames and boxes to mail my photos out in.

(I failed miserably in case anyone is interested).

So it was with aching bunions we stopped briefly for city coffee and cake...

Mmmmm. Lemon curd tart. How I ♥ thee.

And groovy city cafe... how divine and well appointed ye are...

Oh sorry. Doing the non-human thing again, I know.

Actually I am making a remarkably long-winded point here...

Because at the end of Day One, as I took this photo from our city apartment, I had a horrible realisation. While I had diligently downloaded all my gazillion bush photos before leaving Granite Glen, and ensured I had plenty of spare batteries for my flash, my spare camera battery WAS NOT CHARGED.

And the charger wasn't packed.

And the camera battery light was flashing a warning.

Geez Louise!

...

So as we feasted on mussels and Belgian beer with a dear friend (see Mav's amazing photos here) and her sweet funny hubby, I failed to take any photos at all of the event...

And when we had breakfast the next morning with these folk I only managed a couple of snaps of this little angel and her sleep-deprived Ma... Oh how I wanted to take more photos of this little darlin'...

But the Nikon batteries finally went "ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz...."
...

And so these rellies got a romp with the kids, gossiped with Mr Incredible, showed us their new super-deck and shared a lovely lunch for us, completely unrecorded by my tired Nikon...

...And these fabulous friends (aka the acrobats) shared their half-renovated home (and toys) with our tribe without me poking my little zoom lense in every corner of their abode...

...And this little man (the one with the incredible blue eyes) and Dash played their hearts out as their gorgeous Mum and divine new baby girl showed me around their half-renovated home (must be something in the BrisVegas water?), all without so much as a shutter-press.

...And this particular blogger - whom I had arranged to meet near our old Brisbane home, and who was forced to travel several more suburbs for the dubious pleasure of breaking bread with my over-tired, visited-out family - was not forced into a group hug for the purposes of this blog. And I really should have recorded this one for posterity...

Sorry Shirley!

So there you are.

Hard evidence that I am completely hopeless.

*smacks own hand, hangs head in shame*

I promise to do better next time.

*grins as friends and rellies groan in unison*

As a peace offering I give you this...

You cannot stay mad at me too long looking at such an angel...

Can you?

BrisVegas Fairy Wheel Delight...

The series below should be viewed to the beat of

"You Spin Me Right Round Baby (Right Round)"

by the inimitable Dead or Alive.

Or Britney Spears.

Or Marilyn Manson (or whoever rings your bells!)

...

And those who have indicated they are afraid of heights should possibly look elsewhere...

or have a stiff scotch, sit down, buckle up, and hold on tight.

Who knows...

BrisVegas by "Fairy Wheel"

may yet cure your vertigo...

Wheeeee!

Having a Heart (and a cuppa)...

As many of you know, our Dash is a heartkid.

This means he was born with heart defects - just like another six babies born today in Australia. And as you may already have learned, he needed two heart surgeries (and many months of tube-feeding) to help him survive.

If you haven't already read his story, you can find it here and here.

Please, take a cuppa with you before you dive into the saga.

Trust me on this!

...

There are hundreds and thousands of kids just like Dash - who suffer from heart conditions and need serious surgery and treatment. The stastics are pretty frightening - with heart issues killing more kids under five than any other condition. But Dash is not just a statistic - not just the "one in a hundred" babies whose parents will be devestated by the news that their infant is not 'perfect'.
...

He is now a seven-year-old dynamo:

handsome as hell,

a rough-and-tumble kid who adores his little sister

(although the odd pulversising does take place),

who desperately wants to ride a horse as well Daddy,

is as sweet and thoughtful a son as any mother could dream of.

He is very real and very present -

a fact which was NOT always a foregone conclusion,

and one for which I give thanks on a daily basis.

And in honour of this energetic miracle,

I will be holding a Cuppa For Kids at Granite Glen soon.

Friends will share smoko with me and put a gold coin towards HeartKids.

I can vouch for the group - they helped keep me sane in the darker hours of our heart journey, and I have done fundraising with them on numerous occasions.
One of these efforts was a HeartKids calendar I began six years ago.

This was the pic of Dash we used in that first edition...

And this is Dash with his amazing paediatric cardiologist, Dr J...

...and the incredible Alan Langer (rugby league legend) as we handed over the cheque from that first calendar. The calendar was started to try and get some action into researching WHY kids get heart defects. And despite raising many thousands of dollars for research, we still don't really know.
...

I have put a link in the sidebar to share the message about our heartkids and how you can help. Cuppa for Kids runs throughout July and August - please click the link to explore the activity or check out the Heartkids Queensland site - there are stories there that will stop you in your tracks. Maybe, if you are so inclined, you could have your own Cuppa for Kids?

And if you live overseas, consider helping out your local heartkids support group.

They are worth your effort, however big or small.

I shall climb down off my soapbox now.

And put the kettle on!

...

(PS More city adventures coming up soon...)

BB and the City...

We visited Brisbane on the weekend...

Our visit was 72 hours of full-on action, gastronomic over-indulgence and a salient reminder for me in many ways of something you might not have necessarily picked up if you don't know me outside of this blog:
I love the city.
Startling news, I know...
How can someone who deliberately chose to leave it all behind and live in the bush, who ran away from suburbia (or even urbia?) still adore this kind of busy man-made skyline?

I don't know, but it's totally true.

Bush Babe hearts 'Urbia.

And I love this city in particular.

Brisbane (or 'BrisVegas' to those of us who love her) for those unfamiliar with Aussie cities, is the capital of my home state of Queensland, and home to almost two million people.
Mr Incredible and I were among that two million up until two and a half years ago.

BrisVegas is a wonderful place.

She is a character. A fine old lady.

I grew up visiting her (and my maternal grandmother) regularly as a child. She has welcomed me warmly through the years .... from my wide-eyed visits riding escalators with my 'zany Grandma' as a little one; through my tertiary education years as I dithered over my studies and earned an 'B+' in Life 101 'working my way through uni' as a waitress, as a young adult with a penchant for nightclubs and Irish pubs (and a certain ex-footy player now known as Mr Incredible), as a bureaucrat and almost-married Cue-suited woman striding through the subway and mall; as a new wife attempting to make the transition from career chick to stay-at-home mum to a newborn; and then as a new mum with an ill child, desperately leaning on the healthcare resources this city offered.
...
Brisbane was pretty much always good to me.
She too has grown and matured and learned to make the most of her assets.
Her old and her new blend with a kind of Aussie-flavoured pizazz.
She is no longer big country town, she is CITY with a big 'C'.
Laid-back but with spark, warm with a little flash....

We stayed right in the heart of Brisbane - something we never did as residents.
We chose accommodation built right on the site of Festival Hall. The exact place where I took Jeanie (as a whipper-snapper fresh out of boarding school) to see Paul Young in concert (she swooned big-time), where I was first wowed by John Stevens in Noiseworks. Images in the foyer of the sparkling new apartment tower show some other Festival Hall performers - The Jackson Five, Diana Ross, the Beatles.
...
After riding the lifts with two very over-excited children ('my turn to push the button...no, MY turn!) we hurled our bags onto white bedspreads and took in the views.
Right out the eastern window of our apartment I spied...

the very hotel where we spent the night after our wedding... Hello Heritage Hotel!

(Now Stamford Plaza).

And then as the sun set over Mr Coot-tha, out the eastern floor-to-ceiling glass wall of our dining area, I locked my eyes on this...

Yes indeed.

The very place where I gave my daylight hours to the Department of Innovation and Information Economy as a communications officer at the start of this decade (seriously - I had to market 'DIIE' to the world!).

My life as a city slicker was coming back to me hard and fast... there were memories at every turn. And most of them were fond recollections. But in an echoing kind of way, as if from a long time ago - somehow the seven-and-a-bit years since I worked in that building has stretched into a veritable lifetime.

...

Of course while I was reminiscing my stiletto years, Mr Incredible was freaking out at the image of our youngsters pressing their faces against the glass... I did my best to reassure him (and myself) that all safety requirements would have been thoroughly met in such a new building, and that the glass would not give way to their enthusiastic embrace, and allow them to plunge to their deaths....
I am a cruel woman and I do not suffer vertigo...

Our offspring are wired like me and enjoy the giddiness that looking down from great heights induce in our bellies. Mr I? Not so much...We ended up compromising with Dash and Violet being allowed to gaze upon the lights of BrisVegas while lying on their tummies.

...

But back to our mini city tour...

This is the freeway on which I travelled as a uni student, and upon which a nice but slightly frazzled young man (running late for his plane) ploughed into the back of my darling Mazda 626 wagon as we waited in stationary peak-hour traffic and gave me whiplash.

(He missed his plane, but I continued to love this piece of city road art).
You can see the Old Treasury building to the left - it was transformed into a casino and was a favourite very-late-night haunt of my hubby and his mates ... before he was my hubby.
Heh.

Hello again Treasury Casino ...

and 'G'day' odd modern art golfball thingy.
Nice contrast in styles.
Is the ball a play on 'high roller' d'ya think?
Art confuses me sometimes.

You know, I decided this visit that I even love the buses. Not that I rode them much when I lived here. I like my personal space. I was more your 'give a workmate a ride to work in the car' kinda gal, with some rail commuting thrown in.

What can I say? I have a keen sense of smell and like to choose my travel partners or at least be able to move away when their hygiene is questionable!
...

And then of course there is the wonderful South Bank...

Scene of World Expo 88 (yes, I am that old!) and since transformed into a park/eatery/cultural/playground... this is where Mr Incredible and the kids spent some serious bonding time as I did a marathon stint at the Gift Fair (searching fruitlessly for the ultimate photo frames and packing boxes). You can also see that big Ferris Wheel (or as Violet calls it: The Big Fairy Wheel) offering visitors more extreme heights and superb views of BrisVegas.

If you like I might share with you a little of it's magic the next 'BB and the city' instalment...

...

So... what do you think of MY city?

Did you enjoy the contrast to Granite Glen as much as we did?

And please, share with me a snippet about your town/city.

....

PS Our 'city people' stories also coming up... Rhubarb Whine, I am looking at you!

Moments like these...

Today was a momentous day for the Granite Glen household.

There was a little milestone achieved by a particular member of the family,

which I feel compelled to share with the world

(or at least the 17 or so of you reading this blog post!)

...

You see our son, the indubitable Dash, has been tinkering around the edges of becoming a rider for some time now... you may recall this and this and maybe even this?

Anyway, his cousin Salina is visiting at the moment,

and if anyone knows Salina, they will attest to her horse-mad qualities.

If there is musterin' a-happenin', you'll find Salina saddled up and ready to go.

And where you find Salina on her visits, you will generally find Dash.

This particular visit just happens to coincide with the Granite Glen weaners being 'taken out'.
For beginners, 'weaners' are the calves who have been separated from their mothers and 'taken out' refers (not to date night but) to their first experience outside the yards as a mob without their mothers. It can be uncertain, the calves can bolt and generally misbehave and everyone needs to be on their toes (or hooves, or paws, as the case may be).

...

After watching the action over recent months from the sidelines, Dash finally girded his lean little loins and hoisted himself atop Lacey for his first big paddock ride. Salina generously agreed to lead Dash for a while until he got his confidence.
But as the weaners milled outside the yard looking to the open paddocks,

... and the tension began to rise among the adult riders holding the inexperienced mob,

I wondered if this might be the wrong day to start our little man in the big league...

And as they weaners headed through the gates and down the road, with some breaking ahead of the lead riders, my concerns grew.

...

I quickly let Salina unhook Dash from his lead

so she could canter off to assist the men to hold the mob.

And observing the set features of my suddenly quiet son,

I offered to follow him (in the Prado) til he caught up.

He nodded grimly, turned a reluctant Lacey down the road, and kicked her forwards.

Is it just me or does he look tiny in this scene, trotting off solo into the distance?

You can see Salina cantered ahead and within a minute she was out of sight.

Dash trotted gamely along, keeping his old steed jig-jogging along.

She's pretty ancient, his chestnut mare... almost 30 years old in fact.

She slowed to a shuffle at times...

and was certainly not about to break into a canter for anyone.
Which was fine... except my son has not yet learned to rise in his trot.
And he has a very, very skinny butt.
Muuuuummmm!! he eventually complained,
'My bottom is going to break soon! '
...

Luckily this particular tragedy was averted as we finally caught up with the mob ...

...and with Pagi and Salina who were holding them on the fence.

When people ask me next time why the heck we chose to give up our comfy city life for an often-trying future in the bush, I shall send them to this very photo...

It says it all for me... this moment.

This moment of independence and friendship and shared cameraderie.

While working cattle.

Doing something real.

And loving it.

He doesn't know yet how amazing that tiny moment was.

But he will.

...
And there was this moment too...

This moment where he very first started to 'help',

to learn where the 'right place' is when moving a mob of cattle.
...

And this moment...

Where he listens intently to his grandfather,

learning about how to hold the reins,

or move in to block a beast,

or stay back when required...

(How the heck do I know what the chat was about?

I was 200 metres away!)

...

Or this moment...

When my little man said "See ya Mum!"

"I'm right now - you can go."

My heart darned near popped right out of my chest.

...
It was only when I processed these pics tonight that I saw something else.

Something amazing and butt-saving.

Darned if he didn't almost get the hang of rising his trot too.

My Dash ...the musterin' man.

Seeking a sepia series...or not?

Ever just messed with something,

decided that you loved it,
and then (feeling rather chuffed with yourself)

attempted to recreate it,
and just couldn't quite remember how you did it?

Happens to me all the time...

This is a shot I took of Violet recently...

I love this image with her hair all mid-swing and the background all lovely and bokeh,

and I ran a little sepia Photoshop action on it.

And VOILA.

Violet from 100 years ago.

Well, as good as...

I adore sepia.

Have I confessed this before?

Those who are regularly here will probably have guessed.

Photos. Old Stuff. Sepia. Natch.

...
So I thought I would do a little Sepia Series...

all lovely matchy-matchy sepia images from all over my hard drive.

Sepia windmills...

Sweet before-and-after gnarly dead-tree roots against the sky...
Hmmm....

And I would swing on by, back to the swing set...
Do you see my problem here?

All exactly the same action.

All amazingly DIFFERENT results.

Of course, if you aren't into matchy-matchy,

and the inner-gizzard workings of Photoshop,

you probably couldn't care less.

You very likely tuned out at the start of this post,

and just looked at the pictures!

So my question... More sepia?
Anyone.
And if so... why??