Australians all let us rejoice... or Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oy Oy Oy!

I couldn't decide on a title, so I'm having both.



Today is Australia Day, a celebration of all that's great about our country and our people. It's one of my favourite public holidays because it makes the most sense, because the weather is always fabulous, and because there are no obligations, no cards to be sent, no rituals to observe- it's just pure unadulterated celebration, however you feel like celebrating.



I have been thinking recently about what being Australian means to me, and how I can help BabyJ grow up with a strong sense of Australian identity. It was deep, it was insightful, and I'm not going to bore you with it here, except to say that I'm pretty sure J's journey will involve Banjo Paterson, circle work, the subtle olive beauty of the Goldfields scrub and the dusty red drama of the Kimberley, slogging one over the fence on the way to a backyard ton, meat pies, yabbies, goanna and damper, learning to take the mickey out of his mates, himself and life in general, cold nights in a warm swag as the Southern Cross slews across the sky, and one day standing on the airport steps, Eureka flag on his backpack, the whole world at his feet, ready to step out and grab it with both hands, but always knowing the way home.









We spent Australia Day this year at the Kojonup Picnic Races, which is the big local shindig, a great excuse to get a bit tarted up and gather at the polocrosse grounds/racetrack for horses, gambling, beer and sun- 38 degrees, in fact. I was the course doctor, so I had to forgo alcohol for the adrenaline-charged buzz of waiting for jockeys to maim themselves. Can I really handle a flail chest in the field? Fortunately I didn't get to find out, everyone went home in one piece and I did get to finish the evening with a couple of cold ones. R won a few dollars (well, broke even, anyway) and J was in heaven with horses everywhere, a merry-go-round, bouncy castle, sandpit complete with diggers, and a Mr Whippy van. Life just doesn't get better!

From this:


To this:




To this, before you can say "Yippee, it's Mr Whippy!"



Happiness is: icecream, and a winning bet!


Race day scenery:


My friendly ambos:



The barrier moving, farm-style:








Farmboy at the bouncy castle:




Merry-go-round:


This adorable babe is Dougal, from Don Robertson's Booroola stud, north of us. He'll be coming to do a bit of training at our place when he's bigger.






J refuses to accept the dismantling of the merry-go-round.
"Now, where's the ignition on this thing?":


Diggers! (please note the Holden shirt- you can't say we aren't patriotic)