Big hoofprints to fill...

Ready for the answer to yesterday's mystery?

I am not sure you are...

Remember how my brother owned the most gentle wonderful stallion,

and tragically lost him a couple of months ago?

Well... we have been watching these two swelling bellies in the paddock next door to the house for months now... forgive me, but I didn't want to blog it for fear of jinxing the much-anticipated arrival of Admiral's offspring. Bushies are really superstitious when it comes to this kind of thing.
...

And then yesterday, Mr Incredible burst in on my secret Christmas wrapping afternoon marathon (in my air-conditioned bedroom.. it was 40 C outside, OK!) to inform me that I needed to come outside PRONTO.
And the look on his face could have meant only one thing...

Ohhhh... Hello One Thing ...
brand-spanking new, kinda wobbly One Thing.

First feed time Baby?

Hang on... checking closer... it's a boy!

A colt. Wow...

...

Mama is Jill - one of my hubby's main steeds til she was put to Admiral earlier this year. He has missed her - she's a tough mare who can travel long and hard. She has real stamina. And heart. But one look here...

...and it's all worthwhile...

My Lord those are some knobbly wobbly knees...

And some tippy tippy toes...

What looks like four white socks...

And the sweetest crooked star...

Oh dear... check out that ear fuzz...

and those sweet untested bony shoulders...

Oh, you cheeky possum!

And with that, Jill decides One Thing's debut into the world of the papparazzi is over. She nudges her hours-old colt and he staggers alongside her. Slowly she moves away from the crowd and patiently guides him towards the trees on the ridge...

See you later little fella... you don't know it yet, but you have some big hoofprints to fill.

Son of Admiral...

Teaser ... Part 2

Here's a little hint for you all, to help you solve the mystery...

Hello ladies.

Warm enough for you?

That shade looks most inviting...

...

And here is hint number 2...
Don't say I never give you anything!

Teaser... with a prize!

Something momentous has happened here at Granite Glen...

Something bigger than Ben Hur...

And it took place almost within sight of the house,

just this morning.

What can it be?

I will tell later tonight (GG time).

Can you guess in the meantime?

Best answer wins a BB print.

Have fun!

:-)

BB

Don't just look... see!

I am often asked about my photos... what kind of equipment I use and how I manage to get shots that look OK. Me, I can always see major room for improvement in my images, but I do take the implied compliment and will share a little of my process when taking photos.As an ex-journo, my images are often less arty than I would sometimes like. I don't over-think things, as you will see...

Are you ready?

Pen and paper handy?

Sitting comfortably?

Here it is.

...

The Bush Babe Photo Process.

1. Take camera and turn on.

2. Ensure lens cap is off (most important, I speak from experience!)

3. Look through the viewfinder.

4. Press the shutter.

What?

Not enough detail for you?

Where, you ask, is the long-winded explanation on apeture and shutter speeds?

Well... not here.

Because, for me, that's not where it starts, the taking of a decent photo.

It's in you.

In your eyes.

In what you see.

In how you see what is around you.

You walk and drive past things every day that are photo worthy. And to be honest, so do I. But when I make the time to really see, I find a whole new world of photo opportunities. And the secret to finding these opportunities yourself, is simply to stop.

To clear your mind of the clutter in your life. To take a breath. And to look.

Don't glance at a dusty old track crowded with weeds.

See a delicious sweep of purple hugging a rich red road.

Don't just open the gate and hurry back to the vehicle.

See the beauty of barbed wire spiralling delicately into the fence post holes, and lunging into the distance...

Or the dance of intertwining barbed and plain wire in contrast to the age-burnished timber posts...

Don't just walk past the horse whinnying over the fence for his supper...

Find what it is about him that captures your eye, that draws you in, that speaks to you...

And press that damned shutter.

Here endth the lesson.

Amen.

Ballet Burf-day

Violet has had a rather good start to the holidays.

...

Not only did Santa dutifully roll up last week at her Kindy to distribute the first batch of Christmas gifts... (and while we are at it, exactly HOW LONG does Christmas officially go for these days?)... but he also showed at Dash's school break-up with a sackful of loot!

...

And then...

it was BIRTHDAY TIME!

Yes indeed.

About four years and nine months ago, a couple who clearly cannot do any kind of math at all decided to work on Baby Number Two.
And voila.... Violet!

Our almost-Christmas baby.

(Note the grubby esky in the background- proof this is indeed a real bush kitchen!)

Poor darlin' is already getting used to sharing her "burf-day" with her parents' Christmas gatherings. Not that she seems to mind, really.

Especially when it involves lots of kids, a big ol' pool, cake and pressies. Because one can NEVER have too many gifts. Especially when they have something to do with DANCING. Or BARBIE DOLLS. Or NEW TOGS (that will be swimmers to non-Queenslanders!).

You know Violet, if your mother was actually on the ball, she would have managed to get the camera frame around the FOUR fingers held aloft to indicate the REAL reason everyone was gathered at Granite Glen on the weekend. Because they all needed reminding (regularly). But sadly Violet, your mother wasn't with it at all. It may have had something to do with wondering how to feed 30 people an impromtu evening meal?

...

A great time was had by all (I think). Lots of swims were had. Lots of presents unwrapped. Lots of laughter shared. Lots of food inhaled. And the odd beer and chardonnay mysteriously disappeared as well.

...

Today we had a recovery swim. As you do.

Note the changed colour of the pool. Not sure what all those visitors did to the water (don't answer that) but I'm calling on Sven (my non-existant pool boy) to get cracking with the chlorine already!

Oh, and anyone still having trouble seeing the Incredibles character in my daughter?

Can someone say "fringe"?

Definitely a Violet look, methinks!

...

Anway, wishing my darling 'little woman' with the fearsome dimples
A very happy FIFTH year...

My baby is growing up before my very eyes. In just another 20 or 30 (or, if Mr Incredible has anything to day about it 50) years, she may be even ready to date.

Help!!

Break-up Day

Yesterday was break-up day.

Well, it was end-of-year day at Dash's school anyway...

It was a free dress day, and here is my son, doing his best home boy impersonation.

Yo!

Wassup??

Wass goin' dowwwnnn?

High five!

OK. I'm not sure that 'real' home boys do high fives. But they do in this bush school in Queensland.

So there!

...

It was a big day for Dash, in his final few hours as a Grade One-er.

Here Dash's teacher Mr C is presenting this home boy with his ...

(wait for it)

Best Manners Award

Dash is quite famous for his "excuse me's".

Ah... the glory of the award is sinking in!
I was so proud! He even remembered his 'thankyou'...
...
Of course, it was a slightly bittersweet day for Dash.

His beloved teacher of two years, Mr C, is heading off into the wide blue yonder

(well, the road south anyway).

He has seen our little man from a shy little fellow who reluctantly climbed aboard the dusty school bus as an almost-five-year-old with knobbly knees and huge sad eyes, to the confident enthusiastic bigger (marginally) boy who nearly always gets his "z's" round the right way.

Of course, Mr C was pretty excited when Dash first arrived, being just the 5th boy in his school of 16 pupils. He was in need of the extra testosterone in the classroom! Anyway, as the formalities drew to a close yesterday, I thought is appropriate to get a record of this special relationship, so grabbed a snap this pair of characters.

What do you think?

*gulp*

Sorry, something caught in my eye.

Oh, and to quickly change the subject

before I disgrace myself by getting all soppy...

There was cake too..

Steaming, swimming and see ya!

To say today was a bit warm would be a serious understatement.

It was so freaking knee-bucklingly hot there was steam from my sweat beads.

And not only was the mercury hovering around 40 degrees (centigrade) for the majority of the day, it was also Dash's swimming carnival at a local town. Which SOUNDS appealing. But only to those actually IN the water.

Me?

I was just steamin' up a storm on the sidelines.

It wasn't pretty, people. Any makeup I may have hopefully applied at 8am was in a puddle by my Colorado sandals by 9.

Dash, however, had a blast - doing his funny little Grant Hackett (or is that Matt Walsh?) impersonations across the pool. And look out any little girl with the audacity to swim in front of him!

He's smiling as he mows her down!!

...

And if a five hour swimming carnival wasn't enough, his tiny school decided to spend the remainder of the school day ... swimming!

Yay.

Despite my discomfort, it was lovely to see the youngsters splish-splashing about.

Showing off their freestyle style.

Practicing dives.

And generally annoying their teacher.
Hello Mr C!

Mr C is our current teacher - at a one teacher school about 20km from Granite Glen. To say he does an amazing job would be like calling the temperature today lukewarm... the man can juggle eight levels of schooling along with principal-type administrative tangles, meetings galore and handles the minefield of P&C interaction with barely a murmur of protest. And he cooks a mean BBQ. The whole community thinks Mr C is a bit special - especially Dash. Dash has never had another teacher in his entire almost-two years of formal schooling. Actually, Dash considers Mr C his own personal mentor/plaything.

It seems to be a common attitude at the school.

Hello? Mr C?

Need a hand?

Look out... he's going down!!
Luckily Mr C is a resourceful young man.
And he can feign a good drowning in order to shake off all those admirers.

Well, almost.

...

Look closely at this photo.

See that little guy on the right?

Well, his heart is gonna break tomorrow.

Cause after three years, it's Mr C's last day at our little school.

And while we do wish him lots of luck in his new endeavours...

he's leaving some awfully big thongs* to fill!

...

(* where thongs = flip flops, not a g-string. I hope.)

...

See ya, Mr C.

We're sure gonna miss you in these parts.