Change of scenery: Our journey goes country

The weekend saw us go from water and fish, to rolling hills and cows.

From using one doona, to using three doonas plus a sheet (some call us wimps, we prefer to call ourselves tropical flowers).

Yes, Our journey to the sea went to the country. We ventured a couple of hours Northwest of Brisbane to a place called Blackbutt. Funny name, don’t you think? It’s actually named after a tree.

If you think that’s funny, then check out the name of this shop:
The name is quite deceiving really. Much to our disappointment relief, there was no art involving any body parts of the sort.

The purpose of the trip was these guys:
They need to be ready for sale very soon. Without scales on the farm, extra hands were required to measure their girth in order to estimate their weight. I was there purely for the entertainment factor. And I like cows. Which is weird considering I know where these fellas are going to end up…

Before the work started, we had to go have some fun doing the things country kids do, right?

That meant a tour of the farm, bush bashing on the back of the ute.

It was a hole lot of fun. Holding on for dear life when going down steep gullies, ducking and weaving through the branches above.

A stop to look at the waterfall on the property gave us a grave reminder of the evil things that lurk in the Australian bush. Australia is known for having some of the deadliest creatures in the world. This little guy fell onto the car, from what I think could only be one of the trees we went through. I don’t know what kind it is, but it looks bad enough to be very glad it landed on the car and not on us!!

I guess risking coming across a range of creepy creatures is worth finding little sanctuaries like this:

What a perfect spot this would be on a hot summers day, with a nice cold beer!

After taking us all the way to the boundary of the 1000 acres, and into the state Forrest, we returned to watch some horses play some games. Horses really are beautiful creatures.

The boys loved measuring the cows. It was all about mustering them into the different paddocks, getting them into the enclosure and locking their necks in so they couldn’t move. All whilst hearing me saying “awwww poor little guy.”(They’re not so little) Especially when they were naughty and had to be prodded!

The boys felt like real life cowboys, amongst the loud mooing and stomping. By about the ninth cow I was no longer feeling sorry for them, and calling them sausage. It doesn’t take long to become accustomed to your surroundings, does it?

Although the entire weekend was fantastic the highlight was definitely Ryan being farted on by a horse AND a cow. I was in stitches of laughter. He wasn’t so impressed.

Now just because this is not an ocean post, I’m not going to leave you without the obligatory sunset photo. So here you go.



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