18th Birthday Survivors

The cake was from the first 18th party.  The party for the adults that were there for the Young Negotiator while he was growing up.  He suffered the Transformers cake for his mother, he is a good lad.  The Cyclone on Legs staffy was overly excited by the prospect of so many people and was tied to the pool fence (only to be released again because his barking drove us mad).  He has a severe case of ADHD I am sure.   

The party for the friends in his age group was the following weekend.  It went all night and was a great success.  It was very cold but the guests kept warm with dancing and a bonfire in the paddock.  Fire twirling and techno music was supplied by guests but I was not allowed to take any photos. 

One exhausted reveller on the trampoline and two horses who were not at the party but as the gate was left open decided to join the morning after sleep.

Oh yeah, and do you remember the broken clothesline?  Well a guest or two decided to fix it, as you do at a party.  They were successful and we can use it again.  Weird behaviour, nothing was damaged but the clothesline fixed.  Who can understand teenagers these days.

The Family Flu

I am dying, dying I tell you.  The dreaded lurgy, the flu, the disease the family shares.  Thanks very much teenagers.  They had to share didn't they?  Still I am lucky.  Been sitting in my office the last two days.  That being our back veranda that gets the morning sun.  I have my camping recliner set up, my woollen socks on, tissues (thank you Kleenex for aloe vera tissues), water and phone.  Oh how I hate being sick, it- snot funny.  Oh yeah, sick and still cracking those one liners baby.

Rude Food

Mmmm, comfort food in winter.  This is steak and kidney with dumplings for the Lovely Husband.  He and I eat this alone as the teens want to throw up at the thought of it.  My dumplings (scone mixture) grew to this very suggestive shape in the saucepan and were the butt of many a joke (use your imagination).  Mmm love them dumplings. 

Chickens in Choppers

Well, not really.  This unmarked helicopter was checking the district for home grown drugs.  They use the blades to flatten the long grass/vegetation  by hovering.  Very clever.  They may not have found marijuana on our place but they certainly got our attention.  It was so loud.  I raced out in my very old tracky dacks, oversize jumper and beanie and must have looked a picture of loveliness.

Bruce The Goose on the Loose

The Young Negotiator Rejected!

The Australian Defence Force did not want my baby.  He has been rejected, sob sob.  How can they pass up his devilish good looks, that clever wit, his training commitment (even though that bit was markedly exaggerated) and his obvious desperate need for structure and discipline?  Well, apparently quite easily.   From the Australia wide applications of which there were thousands, there was only 100 positions.  100?  Bloody hell, he had Buckley's.  Oh well he had to give it a whirl Merle.  Poor Young Negotiator is back to square one.  He has no clue as to what to do next year beyond casual work.  The Lovely Husband and I have some jobs for him should he find a spare moment.

Greyhound Freedom

There is nothing nicer than seeing this girl do her big donuts or figure eights in the paddock. She takes off so fast and if she happens to whizz by you, you must stay perfectly still or she will crash into you and all will suffer. Stopping is another matter. She looks so awkward if she tries to stop too suddenly, all those legs gather under her and she looks like her bones/joints will pop out.

The calves think she is top sport and will give chase. Luckily she can outrun them because old Layla is a bit afraid of the cows. Unlike Roger, staffy stupid! He is oblivious to the menacing mother cows if he meanders to close too their calves. Totally clueless! And somehow he gets away with it. The mothers must realise his inability to cause danger and let him slide. Roger will, unlike Layla, actually play with the calves until mother breaks it up.