Weather and witnesses

As some of my readers have been kind enough to point out,

it is past mid-week here at Granite Glen.

Mid-week seems to be a point of interest...

perhaps because it is supposed to be Weather Watch Wednesday on a

... um... Wednesday.

And while it is no doubt Wednesday SOMEWHERE in the world,

it is actually... um... Thursday here.

Whoops.

So WEATHER outlooks for Granite Glen this week are:

Temps - 17-30 degrees C (63 - 86F)

Rain - up to 90% chance of less than 1 mm

Sunrise - 6.01 am

Sunset - 6.02 pm

Moon rise - 2.20pm (Thurday)

Moon set - 1.31am (Friday)

In other words, balmy and beautiful and grass-growin' weather!

Twelve hours of sunlight... and 11 hours of moon...

Do you know your sunrise and sunset times? How about the moon?

Too cool!

I love knowing this - and will try to remember to add it into these little updates...

(Sunset photos above taken yesterday after a marathon book-keeping session)
~

Oh... was it NOT the weather you were after?

I wonder if the girls who keep reminding me what day it is,

are interested to know what Mr Incredible and I are getting up to tonight?

HINT 1: It involves a fair bit of driving.

HINT 2: It has something to do with a blogger friend.

HINT 3:

This chick is a blogger I have never met and I admit to being mightily nervous ...

(it's always a little nerve-wracking meeting someone who has built up an image of you from your online ramblings and photoshopped portraits - I always fear I shall be a sad disappointment!)

And not that I think she will be awful (I suspect she will be enormous fun).

We will be meeting her 'backstage' before her show.

but what she might DO with our meeting...

you have NO idea.

And neither do I.

Wish me luck.

Some friends of mine...

Our local campdraft last weekend was a hectic, happening affair -

with lots of action in the centre ring and plenty of activity in the grandstands too.

Events like this provide the chance for socialising that can be rare in rural areas.

Oh sure, we may run into people we know at the local supermarket,

or see them in passing on the road, or at someone's birthday party.

But an event like this brings people of like minds together.

~

And the delightful thing for me,

having lived in the city for so very long

(and sometimes not even knowing my neighbours' names)

is that almost EVERYWHERE I look at a local draft,

I know someone.

This shot, for instance, contains the rear views of my father,

some of his campdrafting co-horts from the 'good old days'

(who still give me a ribbing about my few - unsuccessful - campdrafting efforts)

and there are a smattering of friends there too.

~

This chick went to school with Mr Incredible,

...and her family and mine pretty much grew up together.

We may (or may not) have yakked for about an hour in the stands later on...

we only had about 25 years to catch up on!

~

This is her brother, and also the President of the local campdraft committee.

He was one busy bloke over the weekend -

what with riding, supplying cattle AND organising the three day event.

We like to call him 'Mr President' just to annoy him!

~

And this is his gorgeous wife, waiting her turn in the yard.

She's not so much the First Lady,

as Madam Secretary (of the same committee)

and one of the best female riders I have ever seen.

Pretty. And quite fierce. At least on a horse.

Heh.
~
This is our local butcher.

Unlike some who were literally born to draft, he took up campdrafting as an adult

and is really starting to hit his straps.

He won the Maiden on Friday...

(which sounds much more romantic than

being 'the best cow chaser around a mowed paddock'!)
His partner is one of my oldest friends (and a long-time lurker here).

We could NOT be prouder of him.
~

This is the Dad of one of Dash's school buddies.

He is a terrific horseman and trainer.

Plus he's a totally nice guy - and not bad as a long jump steward either.

~

And of course, there was Dash and Violet's cousin doing her thing

in HER very first campdraft...

You GO girl!!!

(Loving the matching shirt and saddlecloth, BTW)

So you see...

Not only am I exhausted from taking a bazillion photos (no exaggeration) and encouraging my hubby in his drafting endeavours, as well as cheering on our son in his first very draft, plus attempting to ensure my children don't invade every gooseneck horse trailer on the grounds (when I am not looking) and keep up the supply of chocolate ice-creams and meat pies (when I am)...

I have been TALKING.

Talking up a storm.

Catching up with friends.

And wearing my larynx out in the process.

I have another event mid-week* which will no doubt place

some stress on my vocal chords too.

Thank goodness the mountains of laundry before me don't require me to vocal input.

'Cause there's another one of these campdraft things on NEXT weekend.

~

*it's a secret event, but trust me, there will be a blog post about it.. if I survive!

Forever Friends

When Dash was very, very young, he had a bit of a tough time.

It's not a time of our lives that I think about too often...

even when I link to it here,

I don't go back there myself.

I just want to make sense to whoever just arrived at this blog.

...

Through all his ordeals,

there were regular visitors to his world who were amazing.

Among them was a babe who innocently kept things

very 'normal' for both Dash and his shell-shocked parents.

This little girl was three weeks younger than our son, and he just adored her.

And despite the fact that more than 500km now seperates them...

and often almost a year flies by between visits, he still does.

Thank God for good friends.

Especially the ones who keep it real.

(I am looking at you, Dash's friend's Mummy.)

Change of expression

Something pretty amazing happened today.

We have been having a massive campdrafting weekend,

with Cyclone Ului being polite and staying at bay (although the skies are quite grey).

There has been some AMAZING action which I will share when I get a spare hour or so to sift through the memory cards chock full of images.

But I had to dig out a couple of shots tonight to share.

Cause something pretty darned amazing took place at the local showgrounds.

~

It happened between two expressions.

The first one looked like this:

And then this happened.

Then this...

Then this...

And then he was OUT in the arena...

(Holy Heck, hang on boy!)

And presenting...

Expression Number Two.

He's saying: Did I score more than you, Dad?

~

To explain more fully...

Dash went in his very first campdraft today!

At the ripe old age of seven (nearly eight) he plucked up the courage (with the help of some cousins) to enter in the 'Junior' draft. Kids under the age of 13 get just one beast (cow) in the yard (as opposed to a small mob for all other drafts) and take it out of the yard and around the course as best they can. They pretty much cannot get 'cracked off' (dismissed by the judge) and just do they best they can in 40 seconds.

It's a riot.

Seriously, more spectators stop and watch this draft

and cheer with more gusto than any other division!

Dash vaccillated between wanting to have a go, and being too nervous and unsure of what he was supposed to do. Before entering the 'camp' he confessed to feeling 'a bit sick'.

There should be more photos of Dash outside in the big arena

but I confess I was yelling and carrying on too much to really focus. Or click.

~

More pics of cuteness to come,

but I am so bustin' out with pride at my

sometimes-nervy little man having a red hot go,

that I just had to share....

This weekend...

Depending on the mood of that lil ol storm cell

just off the Queensland coast

who we like to call Cyclone Ului,
this weekend should be filled with a whole lot of this...

and this...


And a spot of this...

I'll be keeping my eye out for talent like this...

and enjoying some equine talent like this...

My Nikon will be busy capturing random images like this...

...or this...

...or I'll be taking random images of others catching random images..

Of course, we could all get flooded in too.

Either way... I don't mind.

~

How 'bout you?
What does your weekend hold in store?

And will the weather be an issue for your plans?

Weather watch and a naughty old man

Can I please have a pat on the back?

I have FINALLY remembered to post Weather Watch Wednesday on...

wait for it...

a WEDNESDAY.

I know.

*curtsies*

Thankyou, thank you all.

.

It's perfect weather here today - just 27 degrees Celsius (80 F) in my kitchen.

Looking out the (smudged)window to my part of the world, I see green grass.

I see ruffling leaves dancing in a strong breeze.

I see low grey clouds buffeting each other trying to cover up the small patches of blue.

I see the contented grazing of horses and cows, their bellies full and tails happily flicking at flies. It's the exact picture every person who lives with grazing animals EVER wants to see.

*sigh*

Granite Glen Forecast :

Temps: 18-28 C (64-82F)

Frost risk: NIL

(never fails to tickle me that this measure even makes it to our Summer/Autumn forecasts!)

Chance of rain: 90% of up to 100mm for this weekend

Actually a CYCLONE is allegedly headed this way.

~

So anyway, the second part of this post IS related to the first.

Even if it doesn't immediately seem that way.

Please meet Cattleman.

Cattleman is a horse.

But he is not just any horse.

He is a human in horse's clothing. (Or hide. Whatever.)

Cattleman is my father's steed and is an ex-campdraft horse.

He is not young - probably about 20 years old - and man, is he crafty.

He is an equine Walter Matthau. Or Jack Palance's character in City Slickers (Curly?)

Here he is, having let all the horses into the pool yard.
Yes, the horse can open gates.

These photos were taken after he had already opened THREE other gates (with varying catches) to completely mix up every horse we have here at the Granite Glen house.
And THAT was within the two hours he had been home, after being shifted in from a 'spelling' paddock which only has barbed wire gates (which I can barely manage and which he has yet to work out). And no, spelling doesn't mean where horses learn their ABC's.

It's where they get rested.

Or banished (when they are more trouble than help).

Mind you, this horse is so smart he can probably do algebra.

Can you notice that he is watching me while pretending to graze?

Want to know what he's thinking?

His thought bubbles should read like this:

"Right, we've been caught.

And she's about to chase us out from this luscious forbidden area.

How can I trick her into letting me stay?"

(And he totally had about three strategies planned out).

.

And when I eventually got them all out into the paddock, he's thinking:

"Okay I shall now chase everyone away from the forbidden area,

to make it look like it was NOT my idea to be here in the first place."

"See? Butter WOULD NOT melt in my mouth.

Is my halo in place?"

.

If he wasn't so naughty he'd be quite funny and cute.

But Cattleman doesn't do cute.

And he doesn't do 'cuddly' either.

Oh sure, he'll let you feed him and even rug him, but the moment you are done he has moved JUST beyond reach. Watching you. If he doesn't feel like being bridled and saddled, it can take you half an hour to outsmart him.

.

He's really the horse version of a cat.

Feed me.

Admire me.

Pat me if you must.

Even though he hasn't competed in a campdraft (basic description here for newcomers) for many years, he is agile and can hunt down a beast (steer) like an equine predator. And if his rider isn't ready for the sharp turn required to send the beast where Cattleman decides it needs to go... then HELLO ground! And you could find yourself looking up from the dirt, at a chestnut horse positively LAUGHING at you.

Not that I would know what that feels like. Much.

Mr Incredible would love to get Cattleman out of the Spelling Paddock (where he has once again been banished) to take him in a draft. The campdraft season, you see, is underway. Or it would be, if the rains would stop.

It's a dilemma for my hubby - welcome more rain and have yet another local campdraft cancelled (two have already been called off)? Or wish it away and watch another drought devour the gorgeous green from our hills?

Catch 22.

Whether the forecast comes to fruition for this weekend's local draft or not, all I know is that Cattleman the Cunning will be ready. As long as we can catch him.

And as long as he doesn't work out the gates.

Who's that knocking at my door?

I've been away from Granite Glen and should be doing a LOT of other things... like unpacking. And mowing. And washing. Instead I've been navel-gazing this morning. Well, not my ACTUAL navel (hello navel, long time no see!) but at who has been visiting me here.

~

It's yet another way I like to time waste (or as they would say in the ranks of the beaurocratic, 'research'). I like to look at my statistics and see which of my blog buddies and real life friends have been a-visitin'. Do you have stat counters on your blog? It's kinda like a two-way mirror - people can see into my world, but I can sneak a peek back and see their ip addresses and how they found me. I try to work out who is who, and I label visitors - some who have been visiting me forever, like Debby and Dykewife, and others who get my random tags such as 'Rocky Regular' or 'Lurker from Louisiana'.

~

Wanna peer in with me?

This is a page I screen-saved a month or so ago.

This stat page breaks down into percentages what country visitors come from.

The details vary a bit from month to month, but generally it seems that...

~

Americans like me.

Well some of 'em anyways... more Yanks visit me than any other nationality.

Not sure why? Maybe y'all like my fake Texan accent?

~

Aussies don't mind me.

Well a couple of 'em seem to enjoy the piccies and bulldust anyway.

I suspect they are mostly family, checking to see who's (psuedo)name I have taken in vain, but the occasional other fab Oz blogger pops in from time to time too.

~

And Canadians...

Well one or two of the Canuck population also see fit to waste time at this little black blog. Even with the Winter Olympics on.

Go figure.

Something that always amazes me though is when folks from completely non-English speaking nations visit. And then come back. How on earth do they get anything from a completely 'Strine blog? I have regulars from France and Malaysia and Switzerland. Incredible.

So I decided to don my Nancy Drew cloak and investigate. I checked out a Swiss visitor, and clicked away to try and find out how they managed to get themselves remotely interested in Granite Glen, Australia.

And I found a link to this:

It looks like a normal Bush Babe page... but look closer...

I can speak Swiss-German!

Holy cow!

Who knew I was bi-lingual?

Did you know I visited Switzerland once? It's true. I loved it. Very Heidi and smartly dressed people in extremely tidy towns. I tried to read the menus there ... but gave up and pointed to other people's plates. I have to admit I am 'language-ly' challenged.

Except in the magic of blogland.
~

So today I'd love to find out WHO else is there, commenting and lurking? A couple of questions to let me know who goes there/here...

How did you get here?

Was it via another blog or a google search or a link from a friend?

What language do you speak at home?

I don't mind if you use a silly psuedonym - or admit you accidently stumbled here after googling 'vegemite' or 'mathalatics'. And I promise not to be offended if you don't understand a bloody word I say, think I am an uncultured moron and just come over for the photos.

Nein, bitte!

Yodel-ay-eeh-hoo!!