Move, do, be..in the knowledge you simply can.

My contemplative look

 Just one day I would like to wake up and not hurt...spare me a few seconds to rant and then I promise it will be over.

It's bloody hard yakka to work on a farm when your body resents every step you take and reminds you, with continuous shards of pain, that you are defective. Recently, I turned 46 and I'm ok with that, but I'll be damned if I am going to continue in this vain for the next forty years (yes, I plan to live a long time!).I know there are people in worse situations, I acknowledge it could be worse, and most days I suck it up and deal with it, and then consequently deal with the disappointment and frustration of what I cannot do. But today I am peeved! I have had enough. I'd be happy to do a trade for another body, not the size 6 version, which seems to be so popular these days (never have been able to do the waif, half-starved look) but one that simply lets me walk, sit, move in any direction or breathe, without the hurt. If you can do these things, then go your hardest - move, do, be.... in the knowledge you simply can. 

It's birthday season in our neck of the woods. Lots of presents, planning and putting others wants and needs before your own. It's a great time of celebration and this year we decided to combine a number of occasions and have one get together.

Waiting for his return home

A barbecue at the local botanic gardens equipped with children's playground, tennis court and friendly peacocks. With Spring bursting onto the scene, sunshine was our friend and we were amused as the ‘pregnant one’ in the family arrived in a singlet, while her pseudo-sister-in-law was rugged up for the snow. All in all, it was a lovely day, overshadowed only by the absence of some of our children. With one interstate, it is impossible to not miss him at so many family gatherings. My other son has simply withdrawn from our world, without a word, he has chosen to stop communicating. While I know he is alive, not sure about the well part, I only know this, thanks to social media. I cannot help but worry, I am his mum, after all. But I am stung by his rejection. After a lifetime's journey together, each day’s absence breaks a little more of my heart. He will be 20 at the end of this month, he is a grown man, I must let him go but I will continue to wait for his return home. 
Father's Day has once again come and gone and my father refused to leave his room, so he did not join us for the festivities despite numerous attempts to get him to change his mind. He is stubborn and dementia has not changed that.

Best friend

Daryl, on the hand, father of two strapping young men, step-dad to six of my offspring and Poppy to one adorable little girl (with another grandchild due so very soon), was suitably and deservedly spoilt. It's always challenging doing the 'Brady-bunch' family and Daryl and I have not always got it right, but on the whole I think we did ok, and I am proud of our efforts to raise our family. Rivergum now takes up most of Daryl's spare days, so I thought we should give him another project and bought him a Flow Beehive. It arrived in a flat pack and the first challenge will be to assemble it. The second challenge will be to find some bees and steal them away from their current hive into ours. We have plenty of anti-histamine in stock, just in case the bees are not grateful. 

While on the topic of brave activities, my girl is off to Italy! Her application has been accepted and the search for a host family is now underway. I am proud of her achievements so far, in what has been, an incredibly challenging application process. Despite days of doubt and speculation, Bek is preparing for an experience into the unknown - at 16 she will take on a foreign culture, unfamiliar language, unknown expectations and integration into a family of strangers. If she can do this now, what else will she achieve in her lifetime? 

Exploring this strange new world

As I write this post, the wind is howling outside, sending the rain on its way and hopefully drying out the driveways. A quick check of the herd this morning, showed all cows and calves contentedly grazing on the copious amounts of fresh grass in the paddocks, while the bull was paying too much attention to the cows next door. Our new boundary fence is the only barrier between a ton of muscled bull and the neighbour’s cows. With no electric fence in place yet, I suspect I will be moving the beast into paddocks with less neighbourly temptations very soon. Our herd increased by one the other day, with the long awaited arrival of another calf. He is well sized and very active. We have one more calf to be delivered, with the last two cows well behind the majority of the girls’ calving season. Sadly, the two stragglers will both be sold off in due course. With the market prices so strong, it is a good time to sell and we were fortunate to have successfully sold four steers in the past few weeks.

Despite my early whining, sitting here typing away is not achieving a whole lot and I must get up and go check that love struck bull has not escaped. The ever energetic pooches, Mia and Penny, will happily run alongside, or as in many cases, in front, of the quad bike, which is the only way I can get around the paddocks. Time to find a coat and some boots and get to work.

Until next time,

N