Not even my gumboots are sacred!

The gumboots are sacred. They are worn on the Mad Bush Farmer's stinky sock covered (rather boney) feet. They prevent the Terrorists clompers from turning the boney feet to mush. They keep the feet dry, warm and they don't leak. These gumboots are supposed to be left just inside the door...

Even the idiot farm dog knows those sacred gumboots after use, are not for his teeth to chew upon. And why is he giving that look then? BECAUSE the stupid idiot Mad Bush Farmer person in her moment of  um...being forgetful, did something REALLY DUMB!.

And left them outside on the doorstep, because the darned phone was ringing. Result = Gumboots are no longer sacred. They made good chewing devices for shrunken fat small horse named Tempest. Small fat horse 100 Mad Bush Farmer FAIL.

Reminders of last winter

Michelle her pet day calf at Wes and Sheryl's place last July.

Inaya taking time out to say hi to one of the calves Wes had brought in 

The milk room in the dairy shed

Calves trying to figure which was the right place to get a drink

 The long shadows of a winter's evening creeping towards Pukearoa

Three little pink piglets getting a share of their evening milk out of the calf vat

The old walk through milking shed and the barns

 Kids on the gate watching the cows head back to the paddock

Old trees covered in lichen waiting for spring to return

Afternoon milking in the shed

Fights over feed bins