I just need a hand, he said

Ah the infamous words…I just need a hand. We all know how that goes. So I packed lunch and smoko, and the kids and headed off to the prickle farm to help The Husband put up a fence around a tank.  Well, not so much put up, but pull down the old one so a new improved model could be installed.

This may sound a simple task, but much machinery and equipment was required. Firstly we had to wait for Dad to arrive with the bulldozer.  Dad (I should have known better) vastly over estimated the speed of his machine and so we had a bit of a wait. This allowed me to catch up on some reading, and the kids to catch up on some sword stick fighting and generally do their best to maim each other before smoko.

(is this a case of I HAVE ALL OF THESE BOYS TOYS SO I’M GOING TO USE ALL OF THEM TODAY?!)

First job of the day, after feeding the troops, was to roll up the barbed wire fence that was sort of still standing.

Clearly my gloves have seen better days and this little chore did not do them any favours. Whilst I was rolling the bulldozer did its thing VERY closely behind me, removing trees that could drop limbs on the new solar panels that are to be installed beside this tank. Speaking of Boys Toys, there were two boys in that bulldozer with big dusty smiles on their faces as they inhaled dieseline fumes and did lots of brooooming as they made an unholy dusty mess.

I also discovered – well I had a fair inkling – that I lack the skills to create anything more artistic than this out of barbed wire.

Then came the super fun part (please read that in sarcasm font). Digging holes with the post hole digger on the tractor. There’s about 3 feet of super fine sand and then a big old flat hard rock after that. A three foot deep hole isn’t ideal however is not so bad if one has to bale out the super fine sand by hand after the post hole digger has finished.

(I wasn’t just taking photos! sheesh. That’s my shovel sticking out of a hole there in front of me).

Once holes were close enough is good enough, in went the frame for the solar panels and cement to hold it in place.

At this point in time, after putting the frame in place and putting in two strainer posts for the fence that was to go around this structure, it was discovered that we were out of both vital materials and day. So all toys were parked up or packed up and homewards we went. The kids were delighted that I managed to get sand bogged in the ute (however nothing that the application of hubs in and 4WD didn’t fix…which reminds me, I always forget the HUBS OUT part. Wonder how many kilometres before The Husband realises and takes the hubs out again….)

Anyhow. I digress. We got home just on dark – and in time for some golden light that enabled me to take this photo.

Great end to a good days work.

Grubby faced,  bare footed children and sharp toothed pups make the best photos do they not?

Fun Times

Ah, fun times indeed. As I mentioned in my last post, I lost my voice somewhere between Barenya and home that afternoon. It certainly did not improve that evening (nor did the man flu/sinus problems) but fortunately for me but possibly not so much the children and husband, I posses a pretty strident whistle and can say an awful lot with a certain look and pointed finger.

However just because the vocal chords had man flu didn’t mean that lolling around in bed was an option (actually, I’d stopped feeling blah by this point) as the next day the good times were continuing. Such is the way, events tend to cluster and collide and this was no different, with a Yoga Day being held at school the morning after our paddle boarding adventure. Now, you’d be pretty assured in knowing that Yoga is not something that I have done regularly but in the name of supporting local events and Frontier Services (host, another one of their community resilience drought functions) I donned my stretchy pants. I took them off again as I really didn’t feel MY stretchy pants had any place in public, not when around my butt that is for sure.

Yoga, I have found, is not a lot different to the stretching exercises one might do in other exercise sessions. I am sure the mentality and the deeper meaning behind it is totally different, however I am also pretty sure we never reached that level as we were far too busy giggling at our ability or lack thereof to complete the moved required.

Cath, our instructor had no such difficulty but enjoyed trying to put us through our paces. Some of us were far more flexible than others, and some of us really found the stretching and using a few forgotten muscles really loosened up a few sore spots.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cath is also a pretty flash cook/foodie type and provided morning tea and lunch with her sister Rachel’s help.

We then REALLY enjoyed the “breathing/relaxation” session that Cath led us through which involved laying down and breathing deeply in varying ways. The use of a straw to control stress, control breathing and to calm was introduced and it was suggested that the straw might come in very handy to hand to ones husband in the cattle yards when he might be getting a little overwrought. “Here dear, breath through this, in through the nose and out through the straw”. The thought was highly entertaining for all present. (all husbands clearly must be the same in the cattle yards)

Lunch was a treat of tastes, with platters of flavours and dips to spread on crusty bread.  Lots of laughter and conversation accompanied. Even more so after we allowed the food to settle and we tried a new version of yoga – with a partner.

Let me say we got to know our friends a whole lot more intimately after this session.

I think it also helped if you had longer legs and were a bit flexible for this exercise. Oh how we did laugh.

But soon it was time to pack up (there is only so much contortion one body can withstand!) and head home. Cath also sent home with us a precooked cryo-vaced meal for dinner that night.

You know, I didn’t think I needed yoga at all. Especially not with little to no voice (it improved on and off throughout the day). But I did have THE best day, and laughed more than I had for such a long time. So perhaps I did need yoga.

On arrival home I found the men folk undertaking their own version of yoga (the one that bends the elbow frequently) on my front steps.

They seemed to be doing a fair bit of giggling themselves, for grown tough middle aged men. They were not keen to participate in the downward facing dog even though the kids offered to show them how and help them do it. Spoilt sports.

And that night, as our bellies were full and we were all sleepy in our jarmies – kids and parents alike – it was declared a Very Good Day indeed.

Yoga huh. Who knew.

Coldest Morning of The Year

Or it certainly felt like it. After running around for quite some time the afternoon before, packing up saddles and bridles and directing child traffic from odd places where they were avoiding work, bright and early and before a very COLD daylight, we headed off. Destination, “helping” the neighbour walk home some cows for weaning time.

Fortunately, horses had been transported earlier but needed saddling and persuading that the cold weather was no excuse for bad behaviour.

Finally we moved ‘em out… after the obligatory rollcall photo

I think there was enough man and kid  power there!

The spare kid was still in residence, yet to be handed back to her parents, so she was having a lovely time with our lot. Was nice to have her, it had been a long time since she’d visited. So she got to ride Chester, meaning Angus was without a mount. This did not bother him at all, his riding skills minimal and his desire to really improve them not great either. The apple did not fall far from the paternal tree with this child and his love of mechanical horsepower over the four legged version.

As you can clearly tell, I was at the back end of the mob. Angus and I followed along in the buggy, he found ways to keep himself entertained (mostly involving feed the starving beast – he has NOT stopped eating since his tonsils were removed)

(new favoured driving spot, not overly OHS compliant but highly entertaining for small boys and handy for jumping off to chase slooooow cows out of bushes and logs).

We need to work on this kids foot and weight placement when riding…suspect the legs are just there for ornament at the moment and all of the weight is on her bum.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The weather was quite lovely after the freezing start, and the couple of hours it took to get to the laneway were not a hardship to withstand. Really, there could be worser ways to spend a morning.

Snacks, a little spell and some buckjumping antics were enjoyed at the laneway. Disappointingly the buck jump rider did not perform close enough to the camera to capture the action, although suspect the pony in question did not really have his heart in it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Angus scored a ride with his new mate, when one of the other kids was seconded to wrassle with a baby calf in the back of my buggy (calf having decided he’d had enough of this walking caper). The end of the laneway was but a short walk to the yards. Yarding was done without incident.

However once yarded bulls had to be cut out from the main mob as they were already shaping up to cause strife and needed to be locked up in small yards away from each other. (testosterone ridden males typically chest beating and scrapping for a fight!) I am not sure any of the smaller kids were in any way shape of form useful in this process but they certainly thought it was fun. My kids have never cut out on horses before, nor probably even seen the process although this was something that I grew up doing.

And that ended that! a leisurely lunch and then the repacking of all saddles,jumpers, buggies and children…and home again with the hope to get there before dark. We made it by the skin of our teeth.

And geez, didnt they sleep well that night!

Ponies

Its no secret, you’ve seen more of the ponies this year than any other year. Normally they reside at my parents property, where there is space and grass for them. But for the last 6 months of last year, mum was feeding the horses molasses and hay and other goodies to keep them going. Normally the horses come in to my place, with its limited space, during the wet season and time of abundant feed in a small space, over the long school holidays. Of course the limited wet and ongoing dry conditions put paid to normal plans. So in January, with some rain having fallen and the horses condition somewhat improved we brought them in. And in they have stayed. This this means the kids have been riding them far more often, rounding up the poddies and generally just goofing around with them.

We taped out a new space for them recently, in the tick free buffer zone that exists around our village. Political machinations by a a couple of residents (some people are never happy?) meant that our usual little paddock was no longer available but where there is a will there is a way, and while there is dry grass to be eaten in front of full on hand feeding we will make use of that.  The routine of feeding and watering the animals has become just that, and each day we poke on down with their daily ration and fill up their water trough.

In between, the ponies sometimes get ridden. Somewhat of a shock to their system, and taking an extra hour out of mum’s afternoon for the pleasure!

Joined by another horse loving little girl, and with the spare kid visiting after a long hiatus, the chatter of the girls was like a little mob of budgies on horseback.

Angus chose, wisely I suspect, to take up the offer of a truck ride delivering weaners with Dad and the local truck driver. Fortuitously for Angus, they pulled up in front of the house just as we were heading off.

I drove ahead in my buggy to supervise the ride (not quite confident in their abilities to go alone, especially with two kids not of my own tagging along!)   and watched and listen to them come towards me. Let It Go was a popular song choice as they rode along…..

And then, all too soon, the sun was getting low in the sky and the chill of evening was encroaching on the warm winter afternoon, so trot back to the paddock they did, unsaddle and feed their valiant steeds.

Hopefully, given their advanced age, steeds are also partially deaf, to put up with the renditions of Let It Go…over and over and over…

(another afternoon in paradise, who’d want to live anywhere else?!)

Picnic Races

Unlike Fiona who has her annual girls-on-the-turps races outings, sans kids and husband, not so fortunate in the north, we head off to the races with kids and husbands attached.

Or in this case, san husbands who suddenly had other pressing engagements, relayed as children were getting in their glad rags.

Dad’s ears burning somewhat, we pressed on and into our race attending finery. Granma gifted the girls some fancy head wear which they were terribly keen to get a sweat out of.

The oldest favouring a feminine rock chick sort of look, whilst the second a more classic race look. The youngest, whatever was comfortable and could with stand the onslaught of dirt on arrival.

I dithered over black black or black to wear, finally settling on a black lace number, and sensible shoes. Pantihose laid out on the bed were tossed when I found I had to drive myself.

I have to say the tank stand back drop isn’t nearly as pretty since the drought and the onslaught of bovine garden helpers.

Our teacher aid and all round mad woman was my pick of the fashions, with an AMAZING yellow floral fascinator. And as you can see, Angus remaining spick and span in any way did not last long. Shirt tail out, jeans tucked into boots…hat FULL of lollies from the lolly drop.

We had a lovely afternoon out with or without Dad’s presence , came home full of sugar (the children) just on dark, in time to fetch poddies, feed horses and get our jarmies on. Just the way a good afternoon out should end!

Farmers Holiday (Mark II)

Husband was excited to tell me he was taking me on another holiday, as we finally gathered up the cattle to send on their own holiday Yaraka way. I did consider taking the kids with us as well, but saw reason when I considered 1. six hour drive 2. the swag and bag packing 3. the food quantities that would be needed and 4. the six hour drive. The kids, in their part, were pleased to instead spread themselves out having sleepovers at Grannies and Granmas for the duration.

Trucks were loaded in an orchestrated movement, two decks being collected from one place, before the remaining eight were loaded at the prickle farm. A very dusty endeavour, the back yards being quite powdered up from the bovine traffic, I am told I was quite a sight by the time we finished. My job was to keep feeding (and counting) the right amount of cattle towards the loading ramp. 17 to a pen or 34 to the full deck with the ramp (the top layer, the cattle are split up once the ramp on which they are standing is winched up)

We had smoko with the truckies, I showered off several layers of dust and made myself respectable and around midday we headed off behind the trucks. Didn’t take long for us to catch up to them, and then we drove and drove and drove (via Aramac this time) and drove some more. Seemed to take MUCH longer to get to Yaraka this trip, am sure they shifted it further away.

Our hosts had thankfully teed up the local watering hole that we would be there for dinner, although that must have confused them as Trevor had to take his away, they had forgotten his order. At around 11pm the trucks arrived at the loading ramp, and ever so neatly they all stepped off the truck.  Afterwards the truckies had to talk and talk and talk and talk, I was so tired I went and napped in the ute for this blokefest of tale retelling to be over. Rolled out our swags in the shearing quarters and asleep FINALLY around 1am. My swag was on a shearers stretcher, one that was quite defined in its shape and I woke in the morning wedged into the same position that I’d gone to sleep in!)

Daylight seemed to arrive far too soon, and having forgotten to pack the kettle for the gas stove, our breakfast was alfresco and coffee less then into the yards.

The country and the feed was beautiful. The steers and heifers did not take much controlling, I had to drive them along the laneway so we would get to their paddock at least sometime before dark!

I had time to study the rock formations in the area.

 

Finally, after around 6km of walking and eating….

and a small moment of adventure crossing some small steep creek channels, which one had to ride carefully through lest one disappeared into a small deep hole hidden in the long grass (I actually dismounted at one point and let husband get my bike across, beyond my skills or desires to try such feats. Our host, mounted on two wheeled bike, looked on cheerfully with interest, having crossed without incident, only to get himself in a tangled heap just metres away afterwards when he hit a big tussock of grass that lept out in front of him).

We arrived!!

Thirsty kiddies were pleased to see the dam, and check out their new digs. Remember TeaLeaf and Mabel the poddies? they are somewhere in this mob.

We settled them in at the dam, many quite happy to sit and camp after their trip of the day before, and big walk that morning. I almost felt a bit sad riding away from them…

Especially as they all stood on the bank (forlornly in my mind) and watched us ride away. Somewhat like leaving kids at boarding school, someone said!

And as we drove homewards that afternoon, somewhat weary and deciding five minutes after we’d left that staying in a motel in Longreach that night sounded AWESOME, I finally got to have a closer look at the post office in Illfracombe. On closer inspection it is indeed built on the same specs as our house but with slightly different building techniques being employed.

And I tell you, that motel in Longreach was indeed comfortable. As was the delicious meal that was delivered to our room (clothing fit for restaurant consumption not packed). Husband said, see I told you we were going on a little holiday…..

I hope the next “holiday” is a little more relaxing?!