move em out rawhide

As you will remember, we've had some orphaned calves since before Christmas (poddies we call them, literally. "POOOOODDDIIEEEE" we call out to them at feed time, and they come scampering). That's nearly six long months of calves scampering and pooping and eating my garden. Normally I lock them out of the garden, but as you also might recall, it forgot to rain here over the wet season. They've been getting a little hungry and I have had the place looking like Fort Knox, with blocks up preventing them from eating bits of garden I prefer them not to, and shed doors chained shut. They've had a bale of hay to eat, and pellets and copra morning and night, but like growing kids....always hungry and looking for something yummy.

(Tealeaf, who turned out to have a ruptured navel, liked to eat his hay close up...getting down to the bottom end of the big bale of Flinders Grass hay I had given them)

The time had come (and the garden pretty much trashed), and yesterday they got loaded onto the horsefloat (oh, were it so easy as that in reality!) and shipped off to granma's place. There they'll join her two poddies, and frolic off down the paddock where there's more grass, some molasses and treats in the mornings (more pellets).

Rudolph, the bigger red calf, really LOVED the pellets, and also loved a good scratch. Dasher, the smaller one, also love pellets too, but not so much the scratching.

And Tealeaf, well normally there is nothing better than he liked than a scratch on the bum, but obviously all camera shy this day. Stinker.

Now they're gone off to slighter green pastures, I can start to repair the damage they've wrought on the yard - and not step in fresh cow poop every day. And the left over dregs of the hay will go onto the garden as mulch. They had given most shrubs a pretty good prune (amazing what they thought edible!) so I just need to go around and give a tidy prune and mulch.

Now I just have to deal with the chooks that come along behind me and fluff in every garden bed....

Country Style Racing

Up here, its not just about the horses when its a race meeting. Its far more about the socialisation, anyone with racehorses provides the reason for the gathering!  And Kooroorinya Races is no different although this race meeting is pretty special. Its a grass fed meet (in that the horses can not be fed anything other than grass hay or run out in the paddock - no lucerne, no chaff, no grain) that has run for the past 96 (yes NINETY SIX) years. So many families have been involved over generations and so its quite the tradition for many to attend. As relative new comers to the district (only 40 odd years) and not into race horses at all, I still remember attending as a child, and although we haven't gone every year, we've made an effort the past few as the children are older, and therefore (in theory at least) much easier to cart out for the day!

Of course we had to have the obligatory family photo - all clean and tidy - before we left. The getting ready process was made more interesting by the fact that we had NO POWER (apparently notified, which we received in the mail this morning, two days after the fact) from 9am and course no ironing was done. However am pleased to note that the generator does run the iron nicely, and the hairdryer too, which brought Miss Mac scampering up the road with her ironing and un-done hair.

I made my own fascinator with a five minute tutorial from my friend Kat (its easy! and if you dont' get third degree burns on your fingers your doing it wrong!) However I made an error in judgement, whilst loving the sculptural pokey uppy bits, I did  not calculate car travel in my equation. Did not fit in the car, and after five minutes of weird posture and head angle, pulled out my carefully arranged hair and pins (and looking at the photo, the darned thing had already slipped backwards on my head. Ran into tree branch) I also broke not one but TWO necklaces in my haste to get ready, so this one was the last one that sort of went, thinking I needed SOMETHING around my neck.

The fashion was indeed high...with local milliner showing her wares, and the aunt and niece combination below taking out the Mare and Filly of the Field respectively.

  The lolly drop was again done by air, and my kids carted home a heap of lollies in their hats/shoes (yes shoes) which I will proceed to chuck in the bin when they aren't looking. (hello sugar high)

The day finished with a Ringers Challenge, which suffice to say did get a little messy, but provided GREAT hilarity to the assembled crowd.

 Entertainment factor ramped up a good amount when some bright spark snuck over and shook up every beer that had to be drunk on the completion of the hay rolling/foot race.

We were home by 7pm, and in our warm jarmies with eggs on toast for tea, as we were mustering the next day (oh the contrast?!). At which time I proceeded to get myself thrown off my four wheeler (hit a stump) which didn't hurt nearly as badly as I thought it would. Witnessed of course by the chopper pilot (who apparently expressed concern for my well being at the time, although I am sure he will use it against me at a later date. Husband saw me pick myself off the ground, but didn't come to inspect me - she got up, must be right! ah the romance!)

And yes, mothers day was in there somewhere too. How we roll in the country, from races to mothers day and mustering, all in one weekend! Hope yours was a good one too.

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!