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Thank you to everybody who has shared this blog. Sharing is the way these things work, otherwise I'm justing talking to myself. If you like what you read please tweet, Facebook or email it to your mates. The more people outside our agricultural circle we can reach the better. Don't forget to have a look at the other blogs I'm following too. Everyone has a story to tell.

Sunday, 19 January 2014

Good Mob of Words

 This blog has been neglected of late, and for that I apologise.
 The second Hadagutful rally was a great success. It’s very rare the sequel tops the original and this was no exception, but we did ourselves proud and once I finish downloading the emails with some footage from others I’ll get another video together. With Gabyon’s net speed it should only a few more months.
 I’m sad to say the sale of our Geraldton farms hasn’t made much difference to our business position except the numbers are just are little smaller. Hopefully we can get out of the hole we find ourselves in, but it’s going to be very hard from here. So I find it difficult to write something cheery and funny while worrying what lays ahead.
However, this is not the only reason I’ve written very little for this page in the last few months.
 Eighteen months ago, inspired by all of your wonderful feedback, I put pen to paper. Well, fingers to keys, but it doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it? I was mucking around, trying to work out how I could put the Golden Rules of Farming into a book of some sort. 
 A lot has happened since then, and after many hours, a few whiskeys, long long loooong periods of neglect, late nights and help from friends made on this wonderful thing we refer to as social media, it seems I have wrote me a book.
  The first plan is to convince a publisher to take a punt. My second plan was to bribe a publisher to take a punt, but things are tight, so if Plan A falls through, Plan C will be to get this out there on my own.
 So, without too much more waffling, I’d like to give you all a glimpse. No matter what happens with this tale, it would never have been written without the support given to the crazy musings of this blog. So thank you.

Wydjawanna Station
All five riders stopped, their legs planted either side of the rumbling bikes. Mork whined quietly from the back of Nola’s bike, sure he could move them in if given half a chance. Still the goats circled, unsure of the new surroundings, but wise enough to know going near them wasn’t a good option.
Ash sat on his bike, not far from where Alexi was sitting on hers. He found himself admiring her legs, which though covered by her jeans, were quite shapely. She was staring intently at the mob, taking in everything, and his eyes moved higher up. The long sleeve shirt she was wearing didn’t leave much exposed, but it was quite a tight fit, and despite himself, his eyes were drawn to her chest. They lingered, then continued to her face which glowed with excitement. She was certainly enjoying herself.
Without thinking, and more out of habit than anything, he pressed on the horn of his bike. The second he did so he knew he shouldn’t have; the effective was explosive. The goats, already tense and wound up scattered. They spread in ten different directions past the bikes and bolted for freedom.
Nola was just about to repeat her warning to steady when the horn sounded. Stunned, she turned to see Ash staring blankly at her, his eyes already an apology as goats streamed past him. She felt the bike give a lurch to the side as Mork catapulted himself off after them. Command or not be damned, these goats were his.
‘Fuck!’ Nola yelled furiously. She stomped her foot down hard to the ground and gunned the throttle. Her bike roared as it turned about in an arc, spraying Ash and Bobby with dirt from the back wheel. Slow and careful was over, now it was full throttle and full noise. Alexi quickly assessed the situation and did the same, following Nola. Jack, also startled by the horn, tore off in the other direction, running down a small mob that broke away past him. Mindy laid low behind him, clinging onto her board as the bike screamed after the panicked animals.

*                              *                              *                              *                              *                              *

The afternoon of the sheep sale Ash and Bobby set off in a ute to find a few roo’s for the dogs. They returned with five butts, and set about boning them out for Lisa in the meat room. Bobby also grabbed the fattest and largest tail, and with Lisa’s blessing cooked a roo tail stew that night to much acclaim from the others, including Nola. That acclaim was short lived the next day as everybody’s stomach adjusted to the strange meat, and nobody was game to light a match lest the whole place exploded, such was the build-up of natural gas.
‘Jesus, those greenies reckon we should eat more roo ‘cos they fart less,’ exclaimed Jack, as he cleared the room once again. ‘Bloody dickheads, what’s the point of eating an animal with half the farts of a sheep or cow when the person who’s doing the eating triples theirs?’
Alexi had to admit he had a point.

*                              *                              *                              *                              *                              *
That evening after the sun lowered they all sat out on the front veranda watching the light show. The storm was far enough away that they could only hear the loudest of the thunder rolls, but the lightning was spectacular. It was if someone had set up a fireworks display, and decided to use all their crackers at once. Light littered the horizon, and even in the dark the huge clouds could be seen as clear as day as a dozen red flashes lit up the night sky in the space of a second, like a pack of paparazzi who’d spied a movie star. But the stars themselves took second fiddle that night, and despite the crystal clear sky ahead of the storm giving a perfect view of their own brilliance, they were merely spectators to Mother Nature’s fiery display of power.
Alexi sat on the edge of the concrete slab, her arms wrapped around her tucked up knees as she watched. She’d seen storms before, but not of this scale, and constantly let out gasps of awe as each flash erupted, bigger and brighter than the last. Ash sat next to her, watching both the storm and the girl watching the storm, while Bobby sat on the other side, his eyes transfixed on the horizon. He’d grown up in the region, and had never seen a display like it. None of them had. Roy and Nola were sitting at the small round table by the front door, their chairs next to each other and turned out to the show, while Jack and Lisa stood side-by-side, leaning on the wall. Jack had his arm around Lisa’s waist, in a rare public display of affection; such was the effect of the night. Lisa was trying to capture it on her camera, but after a few minutes of videoing, gave up and enjoyed the moment instead. They were all silent save for an odd exclamation when a particularly large flash exploded, briefly bathing the entire horizon in an orange glow like an instant sunrise.
Finally Jack spoke. ‘Hate to be under all that.’
Nola said what everyone was thinking. ‘We just bloody might be yet.’

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