Bush Babe

10 December 2009

Messin' with Mirages

I hate to harp on in my weekly (kinda, sorta) weather reports here at the Bush Babe blog... but have I mentioned its a bit hot? Uncomfortably, sweatily, ruddy-faced hot. Make-up sliding right off your face and onto the floor hot. Skin sizzling hot. Yearning for snow kinda hot. Have I mentioned it? Oh... I have? Right then.

Moving right along.

Would you like to see a snap from our recent weekend away to the gorgeous Darling Downs region? Here's one I snapped from the car window as we headed home - sorry you are not getting the elegant expanses of Toowoomba's amazing fig-tree lined Margaret Street. Or the lush gardens throughout this great town/city. Or the shakin' down nightlife we discovered there. No. THIS is what I give you... mirages.

Outback maths: Flat open expanses plus heat equals shimmering horizons.
Kinda groovy really.

I messed with it a little: this is with Pioneer Woman's Soft & Faded action.

Now with PW's Fresh & Colorful

(not sure you can make a mirage 'fresh' but I tried!)

And with a textured action I discovered somewhere called Vintage.

A bit 'worked' maybe?

I actually don't mind this... looks like something my grandmother might have seen about 80 years ago. If her eyesight had been dodgy when she was about 20.

But you know what I mean...

What is your favourite version?
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And while you are in the comments section (you know you want to) can anyone out there beat our forecast maximum of 38 degrees Celsius (minimum of 19 degrees?).

And while we are all competitive, who can go the lowest?

I NEED to read about something other than extreme sunburn here people... because according to our weather bureau the thermometre will plummet with showers (of less than one mm) to a chilly 34 degrees on Monday.

Can't. hardly. wait.

8 December 2009

Vignette #2: A Real Good Mother

We have had lots of highlights and a couple of lowlights with our calving this year.

We pride ourselves on breeding low-maintenance cattle and excellent mothering cows. But when something happens that leaves a calf unusually vulnerable, we humans try our best to nurture these poddies and replace the missing Mama cows with our own brand of TLC...

but sometimes it's just not enough.

...

Our latest drama has fallen into this category.

I haven't really been able to bring myself to blog it til now.

It's a little bit confronting, but I reckon the latest twist in the saga warrants a post.

A few days ago, while we were away, a calf was found badly injured in a paddock beside a road.

I felt sick when I heard the news And it was not just any calf but a gorgeous show-quality bull calf. This guy was not a baby (like this dude was) ... the injured calf was about ten weeks old and glossy and in very good condition. He also had a great calm nature and appeared very alert, despite his injuries being quite extensive.

...

Some great teamwork between my Dad, our wonderful off-sider Lila and our neigbours kept this little fella alive. They kept giving him water, erected a tarp to shield him from the worst of the sun and injected him with anti-inflammatories and antibiotics. He could not walk or stand at all, with suspected spinal or hip injuries. Depite the constant care and visits, no-one ever saw his mother near him. We knew which cow she was, but with no sign of her during the regular checks and drive-bys, we decided she thought he had died and abandoned him.

...

So on our return to Granite Glen, we slid him into a horse float and brought him home from the paddock for some intensive TLC. We treated him and got him to drink, but could not tempt him to eat hay or calf crumbles or grain. It was very disheartening. Despite his good condition and great temperament, he had to eat something to have a fighting chance.

...

Mr Incredible and Dad decided to bring his mother in this afternoon. We didn't know what good she would do - as much as we tried to encourage him, and as hard as he tried, his legs JUST wouldn't work. He buckled and fell at every attempt. And she seemed to have shown very little interest in him since his accident.

...

On walking off the truck, the cow bellowed and immediately (despite not calling for her at any time before) he answered. They called back and forth as we moved him gingerly into a yard from the horse float, sliding him down the tailgate. As we released her into the yard, he tried once more to stand...

But to no avail.

The cow marched around the yard, seeming to look for a way out.

Her udder was very full and probably uncomfortable and we thought about trying to milk her but decided to leave them both for the night to settle down.

We sighed heavily, put some hay in a feeder and checked her trough

before heading up to the house.

It had been a long, hot day at the yards for us all,

and we were all tired and (I have to admit) a little bit 'down'.

As we prepared to shower and get dinner ready,

Dad called out from the yards.

Mr Incredible went outside to see what was wrong.

And then he told me to grab the camera.

So I did.

And this is what I found...

This cow has literally reversed up to the paralysed calf ...

And patiently stood over him, allowing him to suckle from each teat...

And I would say that each night (three in total)

that he was out there in the paddock beside the road,

while no-one was looking or driving by...

That this is EXACTLY what she was doing,

to ensure her baby got the nutrition he needed.

Even if she couldn't understand why he wouldn't get up and follow her,

or stand and suckle like normal....

I swear that is a tear of joy and relief you see there...

...

This will no doubt be an ongoing story,

and you need to know it may not have a happy ending,

because sometimes it gets very, very real out here...

but I know this much is true:

whatever the ending is like,

it will be a story about

a REAL GOOD MOTHER.

Vignette #1: Are You My Mother?

I am calling this a vignette - one of two I will post in the next few hours. You will see why when the second arrives - if I'd tried to jam it all into one, it'd cause some sensory overload. Trust me.

...

It's December - so that means it's hot, darned hot here and it also means that there is a serious influx of poddies and calving and babies around here.

...

We have a miraculous poddy calf-foster mother setup going on near the house;

my little sister is very VERY close to giving birth to a new Paradise baby;

And my sister-in-law Curly will present my brother with their FOURTH child any day now.

(Yes, now you mention it, some kind of strange race appears to be going on.)

Basically it's some kind of set-up designed to make me clucky.

*fingers in ears*

LA LA LA LA!

...

What? It's NOT all about me?

Oh...

Well, anyway, I promise to tweet any news I get from my dear sister (via a watchful Nana who is hovering nearby) but in the meantime...

I shall bring you cute.

...

We spent today vaccinating some of our calves.

Like humans, calves need protection from various diseases that can be deadly.

The vaccine they get needs two doses, so they get one now and one at branding in January.

We muster, we sort cows from calves, and we treat the youngsters.

It means a fair bit of bellowing (from the separated Mamas)

and lots and lots of bovine cuteness.

Like this little guy...

He is only about two days old, has just arrived in the yards after a long walk from the paddock with a mob of about 80 cows and their calves. He's a bit dazed and thirsty and probably looking for a milk break...

...but he seems to be just a tad confused.

He sidles up to Mr Incredible (and his steed Cherokee) as they head to the trough for a well-earned drink of water...

Apparently our calf is under the impression my husband is his Mum...

Are You My Mother?

'You walk a little like her...

and she was here in front of me just a second ago...

hang on...'

'Was Mum wearing blue today?'

'Aaaaaaggghhh!!!'

...

Kids... they never just pay enough attention!

7 December 2009

Time

It's something I don't have much of at the moment. All my own fault of course... I like to pack things in, and I also like to soak things in. It's a recipe for poor time management, very ordinary packing efforts, exhaustion and also not enough sleep (and if I allowed myself enough of the latter, I wouldn't be producing sentences like that now, would I?).

I want to tell all about my wonderful weekend with friends. About my too-late-for-a-40-something-year-old nights, my horrified fascination with clubbing and my random Christmas shopping effort on four hours sleep. I wanted to share our experience attending my very first Stock Horse sale and confess to eating fairyfloss in the car with my kids. I'd also like to somehow show you the incredible clouds spilling soft showers onto faraway paddocks as we drove homeward.

But I cannot. Too damned tired.

Will a photo of an old tree trunk do you today?

Til the world steadies once more...

2 December 2009

Clouds, Calendars and Gratitude

It's been just 5 days since I posted off a big batch of my BB calendars into the outside world.

I took over the local Post Office, drove the staff there all nuts because I wanted stamps instead of those awful grey printout prices on each envelope, had myself a minor conniption over the price of overseas postage, then sat back and had a quiet breakdown over whether people who had spent their hard-earned cash on my project would actually like their purchase.

It's what I do.

Despite there being a weekend jammed into those five days since The Great Post Office Visit, and despite the fact that the calendars all dove into the mail way out here in the sticks, at least two lots have already found their way to distant buyers. Go Australia Post!

In fact, by Monday one batch had arrived in MELBOURNE (at the other end of the country!) to the charming gentleman pictured below.

A photo of him holding the BB calendar arrived via email, with this message from his daughter:

Thankyou so much...

(and some other nice stuff that made me blush)...

Attached is a pic of Dad opening his first Xmess pressie for the season.

Aside from the smile I got from the "Xmess" reference, it really hit me that my little publication was actually going to be on walls - other people's walls. And they would very likely be actually looking at it regularly... Like wow!

What an honour...

Anyhow... I just wanted to say a big THANKS to those who have ordered their first edition BB calendar. And to those who have enquired but not yet placed an order, there are just a couple left. If this is you, please email me here: bushbabeaustralia at gmail dot com.
(Yes, Theresa I am talking to you here!)

And I also wanted to thank the NINETY NINE of you who 'follow' this blog, and the dozens of others who subscribe to me via RSS and other means. I think you are all just slightly crazy but love you for visiting me and encouraging my photo-heavy ramblings. It's really nice to know I'm not talking to myself out here!

And to all my real-life friends and family who stay (mostly) silent but visit this blog regularly - I love that you come, even if you think you are being sneaky!

I haff my ways of no-wink*taps nose*.

You all 'ride with me' in my adventures - and I do love a good 'mustering gang'!

To sign off, I leave you with some word imagery.

My twitter word imagery to be exact.

I am a sporadic twitterer but admit that it is fun when I get excited about something and want to share...

I think this TweetCloud says more about me (and possibly my air-headedness) than anything.

It also says I like Robbie Williams just a LITTLE too much.

And I have allowed the word 'dang' to enter my vocabularly.

And it also say that I kinda like clouds...

They are purty...

You want to know what ELSE I am thankful for?

The clouds outside my window.

The ones dropping fat, delicious, juicy drops of H2O as I type.

What's your weather doing?

Please share... I love a little weather.

(Oh, and THANKS for just being here. Did I say that already?)

30 November 2009

Roads to Somewhere...

I have a weird kind of fascination...

well, I have a number really.

But the one I am talking about today is roads.

My love for them is reflected in my vast collection of snapshots of them.

I even have a whole blog category for them, for heaven's sake!

(I wonder if there is a name for such a strange fascination?)

Bitumen, dirt, straight, windy...

Smack bang dead-straight in the middle of Australia,

curling lazily around the cliffs of Italy,

creeping sleepily through English villages, or

etched into the openness of American grazing land, I love 'em.

I realise there are more aesthetically pleasing things in the world.

But roads... they promise. They tease.

It's pretty much guaranteed that something fascinating is waiting 'round the corner.

Through the mist.

Over the hill.

Beyond the crest.

Perhaps it's just a row of native gums forming a bush avenue.

Or an old shed guarding the sweep of black tar near a town.

Even roads buried under the weight of slow-moving rubber in a city somewhere, help form a complex web of mystery and sure delivery to somewhere important, exciting, necessary, even life-saving.

My very favourite view of a road, is seeing it disappear into a sky.

You may have noticed?

I don't know why, it just seems kind of magical to me.

The possibilities seem endless and exciting to me.

Almost like an about-to-do-the-rollercoaster-dip tummy churn.

Of course the most loved stretch of road holds no mystery to me at all.

It's the road home.

MY road.

...

What does your road say?

And where is your favourite stretch of highway or by-way?

28 November 2009

The Beauty of our Bella (The Eye of the Beholder)

Something pretty special arrived here at Granite Glen this week. No, I am not referring to the calendars, which have mostly gone off in a cloud of dust to all sorts of amazing places. (More on that in a later post).
.

Something was delivered here in the last couple of days that is just so beautiful, I cannot even begin to share the blinding glory of it. Well, I could, I suppose. But there are some things that the camera struggles to fully capture and translate - some kinds of beauty that supercede mere pixels and hues. I know I won't even go close to being able to show this particular being in its honest embodiment of the divine.

.
But I guess I should try ...

Are you ready?

You may need sunglasses.

And please put down any hot beverages you may be likely to spit.

I am warning you - this particular femme fatale is unlike

ANYTHING you have ever experienced.

Meet... Bella.

Bella is a cow.

Not one of our sleek black beauties busily breeding beef babies out in the paddock, though...

She is a dairy cow.

She is a dairy cow with one eye.

She is a dairy cow with one eye and a HUGE bag of milk.

A dairy cow with one eye, a huge bag of milk, and the kindest sweetest gentlest nature EVER.

I pretty much kiss this cow every time I check on her.

Her and her newest admirer.

The poddy.

This little guy who has struggled with his grip on life ever since his Mama died soon after he was born.

The dude who REFUSED to suck a bottle and gave me backache and heartache as I force-fed formula to him three times a day. Who leaned against me as he submitted to my efforts to keep him alive before flopping his head down dejectedly after each feeding effort... making me feel very much like doing the same!