Meanwhile

back at the ranch, as the saying goes, we've got a bit of catching up to do.

The mornings are getting cooler, the days terribly pleasant and nights requiring the need to pull up the sheet or blanket. It hasn't rained (and I know its old hat, but you're probably going to hear a lot about the weather and the consequences for the rest of the year). Our shire has been drought declared, although that doesn't help our prickle farm, which straddles two shires and means I have to undertake the tedious process of filling out Individual Drought Declaration Forms. (mostly tedious as the information I need has to be sourced from The Husbands precious notebooks).

Last weekend, I took the kids mustering-for-fun at my parents place (which is in the drought declared zone, and although appearances may indicate otherwise, this feed is very much shorter than it should be at this time of year)

Georgie mounted on the poor old pony who thought been he'd retired, but recent rain and green grass put a spring in his step and a bit on condition back on him; I rode her (MUCH) new younger horse who had a bit of a sparkle in his eye as a consequence of the green feed as well.

The boy hitched a ride on motorised transport.

The biggest girl worked on her cantering, and took a spot on the wing, which allowed for optimum cantering back and forth whether it was required or not (cattle not exactly wild or wanting to escape!) The other girl was feeling a bit under the weather and was happy (as was the old grey) to poke along contemplatively on the tail, soaking in the gorgeous day around us.

Monday saw me head off to the prickle farm to draft weaners off their mothers. Grumpy husband and cranky wife, and those annoying little (insert appropriate unladylike adjective) black flies and a rusted out tin of fly spray doth not make optimum working conditions, but drafting was completed even if there were some mumbling, dirty looks and sweetly toned requests to SPEAK UP from time to time.

The under-the-weather child was carted off to the doctor for the second time, the previous visit the week before with me querying the perky little scottish doctor (locum) if Georgie could have whooping cough (having come in contact with kids that might have had it when we were away over the holidays) No No, can't possibly (but we'll take a swab to keep you happy). So the child coughed her lungs up for a whole week until I dragged her back again to the doctor (not the perky one this time). Doctor printed out results which had taken a full week to come back, "hmm this is interesting, she has whooping cough! AND a secondary chest infection". And as I had the foresight to take in a pee sample as well (being somewhat suspicious of sudden middle of the night toilet visits) "oh and a urinary infection too". Poor kid. After 24 hours on antibiotics she was nearly back to her old self, and whilst still doing some coughing (which could take 6 weeks to disappear, but only needs about 10 days of antibiotics) she is vastly, vastly improved.And managed to keep herself occupied on her couple of days at home (although the kids at school were subject her her highly infectious coughing for the week prior!) doing some school work and taking selfies with one of the new chooks.

Sadly, her quarantined period has meant that the girls missed out on some offered riding lessons in town yesterday, which we were all looking forward to. Next time.

So there's the highlights and low lights of the past week or so in our neck of the woods, I do hope there has been less lung-coughing-up in yours!