Good for Boorowa

Along new and familiar roads, the car's tyres moved to the beat of some country tunes and podcast pondering. It was a week of new thinking, new wisdom and new pushing, all on old country. But the words of a familiar folk named Sparkles caught me off guard with a simple comment- it's good for Boorowa.

Rocking roller coaster

This week started on a high- watching my sister speak language, on country, educating youth. Nothing was more powerful than this display of strength and longevity- always was, always will be. Meanwhile, Gloucester chilled-out to a spate of food trucks in the evening, backed up by old cars and market stalls.

Making Memories

It started on the road- back to hometown feels, tall trees and running sheep. Out under the rain filled skies, new screws held old tin against hand cut beams on the shearing shed. Then from the farm, we piled in on a trip to Goulburn via Crookwell. Greeted by chilling winds and the promise of snow. The Southern Country has nostalgic charm.

The picture on the wall.

On a distant fridge, a picture hangs with a single clydesdale. It's what dreams are made of, reflecting the perfect horse of the judge over the weekend's proceedings. His eye casts over the 60 odd horses on display, filtered by that distant view, as he selects his favourite.

Heavy Horses and Merino Memories

Counting time on through events, reminds me of the ticking stopwatch used to count grain. The contrast of hard hands to tie off fence wire, yet soft enough to cradle lambs and handle sheep. Although 12 months has passed, it's hard not to still feel your presence. A cracking season, healthy lambs and wool amassing faster than the period before. Still caretaking, still managing the landscape. The Quiet Stockman.

Running.

This week started with some rain soaked fencing with Nan, working down on the other block to build a holding pen. It was then to Canberra for a road trip on Saturday before feeding sheep on Sunday.

The Worimi Way

Despite a few recent sleep-limited nights, it's hard not to feel empowered and driven. I can see exactly what I want, I've been dreaming of where I need to be and the ducks fly seamlessly into row formation. It's here, now. The ridge line promising guidance.

Farm IT

Anachronisms created mixed feelings this week, focused on farming across seas. While being exposed to some of the newest ag-tech at the MobileTech Conference this week in New Zealand, it's hard to remove the thought of Braford cattle roaming ancient Worimi country and Clydesdales pulling antique carts. Tech, or no tech, this joy keeps me awake at night.

Thank God I’m a country boy

We woke early, loaded Izz into the float again last weekend. A little weary from the early starts and a passing storm the night before, she eventually made her way onto the trailer for the journey to Nabiac. After a trip over the mountains, we arrived a little weary ourselves and got straight into washing the feathers that glide within the wind. The Nabiac Show was in town.

Clicked

I'm sitting in our new home. Views of the Buccan Buccan play through the rear windows as paint lines walls throughout. A soft breeze continues to provide life and flow here. Each breath an opportunity for new life.

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