HELP A FARMER - BUY A BALE

Our front paddock during the drought.  Not a skerrick of grass left.  The blue buckets were our home made lickblocks. The bale of straw the sheep are eating were bales of sugar cane tops and the bathtubs were filled with our sheep porridge - sugar cane, corn and carrots that were put through the hammer mill first and then topped with a runny sauce of molasses and minerals and other additives.  My mate front and centre looking at the camera is Hitler with old Hornless off on his far left hand side and little Ramesis standing between them.  You can just see Midnight my black lamb behind them.

I have walked in these blokes shoes, it is heart breaking, soul destroying and bloody hard work, and when Mother Nature turns against you  it is completely out of your control.  A donation from as little as $5 helps so much.  A morning tea function with your workmates making a  gold coin donation can help out - imagine if the whole of Australia got behind that idea - wouldn' t that be wonderful.

Can your church group or social club organize a collection of toiletries and basic household commodities to be distributed?  Sometimes  the farm budget won't even stretch to the cost of shampoo and toothpaste .  When you are hand feeding stock every $ is needed to save a life.  Your breeders are the building blocks  needed to rebuild herds when the drought breaks, and farmers have to try to keep them going even if  they have sold off  the rest .And you can guarantee they have been sold at rock bottom prices as the market is flooded with sheep and cattle from others in the same boat.

It broke my heart to see our good sheep being sold off for less than $5 a head in the last big drought.  It barely covered the cost of getting them to the sale yards and then when the drought broke the price went through the roof to try and buy in breeding ewes - either way we were stuffed.

So believe me every little bit helps.  Please do what you can - our farmers won't ask for help but they need it.  Every lamb or calf that doesn't make it equates to standing in the paddock tearing up $50 notes.  Would you do that with your hard earned money?  Not bloody likely, but these farmers are powerless to stop their stock losses without access to stock feed and water and when Mother Nature turns her back on you you have to buy these in, and they aren't cheap.

 Every bale donated saves lives.

Why not organize a coffee morning amongst your group of workmates or friends to help our farmers out and buy a bale?

Buy a Bale

http://www.buyabale.com.au

The Buy a Bale Fundraising Campaign Help us to raise money for Australian farmers who need our help to live through the current drought.

http://www.facebook.com/BuyaBaleofHay

THE FARMER

The rain is slow in coming; the grass now is all dying

The dams and creeks and rivers are all dry.

The pigs and dogs and foxes are adding to stock losses

There’s not a lot of hope left in his eye.

Wool prices kep on falling but still the country calls him,

he doesn't want to leave it all behind
He believes in the future that things will get much better,
but fears sometimes he's going to lose his mind.

So won't you spare a thought for country farmers?

The ones who raise the sheep and grow the grain.

The blokes who run the cattle and the ones who grow the crops.

All are desperate for the sound of falling rain.

And think on this all of you city dwellers

who use the water, never give a damn.

We take it all for granted never give a second thought

to the Aussie battler out there on the land.

Some say farmers are whingeing, their complaints are never ending.

Some say on Government handouts they depend

But each week you draw your pay for your hard work every day.

What would you do if this all came to an end?

Our farmers are hard workers none could say  they were shirkers .

Their hours aren’t fixed each day from nine to five.

They work 24/7, all the hours that God has given

just to keep their farms and families alive.

Some years no doubt are good ones and there might be a profit,

when prices rise on wool, beef, lambs or grain.

But they could lose it all tomorrow, causing much heartbreak and sorrow

though no doubt they'll face the challenge once again.

So take you hats off to the Farmers, they’re the ones who grow the produce.

The one who’s lamb and beef graces your table.

Please support them while you can, give the thumbs up to the man.

Buy Australian produce now, whilst you’re still able.

Maureen Clifford ©

The Scribbly Bark Poet

HOW TO DO ANYTHING

So many things in life depend on that first step - without it nothing gets done, nothing gets started, nothing is ventured and nothing is gained.  Sometimes that first step is just the biggest hurdle we have to conquer.  Once we have taken it a completely new vista opens up before us.

Regardless of whether it be housework, relationships, writing, journeys, employment or the rest of your life - how to do anything depends on that first baby step.

THE CORRUGATED NATION

Anyone who  is Australian or has visited here and gone outside of the big cities will be in no doubt as to the number of corrugations we have in this great Southern Land.  From the corrugated roofs on the old Queenslander and colonial styled homes and workers cottages, to the corrugations on the dirt roads that snake across this country, many little more than goat tracks.  Those lines and wrinkles that the harsh Aussie sun has branded into countless faces.  The dips and hollows one sees in our desert sand dunes, the waves one sees on our surfing beaches rolling in, line after line  in an endless expanse of sea green corrugations.

We are without a  doubt a corrugated nation - let me tell you a little more......

https://soundcloud.com/maureen-clifford-scribblybark-poetry/the-corrugated-nation

Corrugated shearing sheds

Corrugated Walls

Cattle with crepey necks

Corrugated roads

THE BLACKSMITH

This poem has used the audio tape of the old Blacksmiths shop by Thomas Cransky as the backing tape.   This was  originally set up as an ABC Pool collaboration.

 The story is true - set in Nambour Queensland  in the early part of the 60's.  It is my story.  I hope you enjoy it.  Just click the link below to go into the soundclouds.

https://soundcloud.com/maureen-clifford-1/the-blacksmith

            THE BLACKSMITH

When I was just a little girl, perhaps nine or ten years old,

every spare minute that I had was spent at Bens I’m told.

Old Ben he was the Blacksmith and he always seemed to me

to be quite old. In retrospect he was just thirty three.

His forge was hot and glowing, despite how warm the day

and the clanging of his hammer could be heard from far away.

I recall  water hissing as hot steel was plunged to cool

andthe ringing of the steel always held me in its thrall.

I think I always hoped to see a draught horse standing there.

But alas I never did. 'twas tractors he repaired,

along with combine harvesters and many other things.

So I drew horses on his wall , fulfilling childish whims.

For many years the forge was there. I grew up and moved on.

Many years passed ‘fore I returned, by then old Ben was gone.

The forge was now abandoned. Boarded up and bare.

I wonder if the horses that I drew are still in there.

This town was once a sugar town, but now the cane has gone

The swaying cane replaced with roofs in shades of red and brown

Suburban plots, suburban streets are now everywhere seen.

Though they don't have the beauty of the pink plume on the green.

The mill has closed; the rail line still. No fires ring the town.

The sleepy country pace replaced with haste and frazzled frowns

No neighbourly chat upon the street, and none who say G’day.

All around  rush and hurry. Stressed out people. Stressful days.

The ringing of the steel, alas its sound is heard no more

No need here for a Blacksmith now, not like there was before.

The country ways are ending, the childish dreams long gone

Except within my memories, for here they linger on.

Maureen Clifford ©

The Scribbly Bark Poet

A BOOK REVIEW ON 'AUSSIE TAILS AND AUSSIE MALES'

I am very lucky to have a book review done by fellow author and poet +Terry Piggott who wrote 'Around the Campfire" a book of Australian Bush Poetry about his adventures outback fossicking for gold.

Here is what Terry had to say about my EBook ' Aussie Tails and Aussie Males.'... 

MAUREEN’S BOOK

Maureen’s poetry takes you on a journey through Australia, from the coastal towns and cities through to the vast outback. Her poetry captures so well the spirit of the larrikin Australian, both at war and in peace. It also tells the stories of endless rounds of flood, drought and bush fires, while at the same time posing the question of whether these wonderful characters and our Aussie heritage are slowly disappearing for good.

You will also find poems that touch on the indigenous culture of the first Australians and many other topics.

Maureen’s great love of animals is obvious from the first page of the book, leaving the reader in no doubt as to where her heart lies and those who share a similar love of animals, will find much enjoyment in the poetic stories woven into the pages of this book.

There is something for everybody, some wonderful poems and even a couple of well written stories.

Terry Piggott

How nice is that?

It is available through Bookcountry on this link

http://bookstore.bookcountry.com/AdvancedSearch/Default.aspx?SearchTerm=9781468925463

also available through - 
 Kobo books, Google Books, Nook Books, Scribd,
 Danes and Noble, Sony and Angus and Robertson.

Should soon be available through-

  Apple and  Amazon. 

For those readers who love animals, and enjoy the outdoor life, and can appreciate the disasters and the humour that sometimes comes with them. For those who have served their country, regardless of which flag was flying overhead then some of the Military poems contained in this book might strike a chord with you.

For anyone who loves a good read about Australia, from Ned Kelly, Australia’s most infamous bushranger to the local farmer with a weather fetish who just had to ask ‘Did ya get a bit last night?’ – then this book might be the one you’re looking for.

The author spent time on a sheep property surrounded by dogs, sheep, feral goats and an awful lot of red dirt – during the worst drought Australia had seen in 100 years, She then moved to a town that got flooded out twice in quick succession . Both times luckily sustaining a near miss.

She is a lover of animals and the land who also writes rhyming poetry in the Australian Bush Poetry style. Come on in and read about The Secrets of a Working Dog. Catch up on the local gossip and find out who was Hot to Trot and why one bloke asked the question Did you get a bit last night? You might need a box of tissues handy when you read about Goddy Small and find out why Only one came home, but it’s a book that has been described as a bloody beauty and a ripper of a good read……Only one way to find out though isn’t there? 

WHAT IS LOVE

My big girl who has suffered so much in her life and tries so hard to please me and she does.  Over and over.  Not enough money in the world to buy this girl.

WHAT DO DOGS THINK?

Over the years I have often wondered what dogs really think about, apart from the obvious - FOOD.

They are all  individuals although sharing a basic common gene and they seem to come into this world with so much inherent knowledge that has been passed down through the generations of dogs way back to primitive times of the wolf...  Different breeds have different knowledge but all seem to have the instinctive know how and  ability to hunt.  Even the most domesticated dog knows how to hunt if necessity demands it.

It is this trait that can make dogs such a problem around livestock.  They have the instinct to chase down other animals.  That's a very handy instinct to have in your working breeds that are used for mustering stock but not so great when someone's escaped pet Rotty or foxy or whatever decides to start rounding up the neighbours chooks and creating havoc.

Farmers have to put up with this problem a lot when uncaring 'people' dump unwanted animals out in country areas.  These previously domestic dogs soon have no choice but to start killing off the farmers stock and local wildlife to feed themselves.  The end result is usually not good.  Nothing more certain than that stock losses will bring out the big guns and farmers are usually pretty handy with them.  Most stock kills these days are by feral dogs, not dingoes, although the dogs may well have cross bred with the dingoes at some stage.

Dogs must think that humans are the best hunter gatherers ever - they bring home the most amazing range of food...consistently.  They also like digging holes - so do dogs - but humans don't seem to put bones in them which is a bit strange, they put plants in them instead, which of course curious dogs will rip out and fling aside because surely there must be a juicy stinky bone hidden beneath.  Why else would you dig a hole?

And humans for some reason get upset when a dog rolls in something smelly but how else are you supposed to disguise your scent from predators or prey?  All very strange to a dogs mind, especially when humans use those squirty bottles to spray stuff on themselves that makes them smell...different.

Do we ever really know what dogs think?

MY MATE ELLY

My Elly has a zebra,

well and truly stuffed and stripey.

She grabs it and she shakes it fit to kill,

then God almighty

 she throws and tosses it around the room,

pounces and fleas him,

then tucks him safely in her basket,

underneath her chin.

Jack Russell’s are great ratters.

My girl's crossed with Staffy too.

She’s six foot high and bullet proof –

a terrier through and through.

A rough and tough and tumble bitch,

typical of the breed

but she’s also cute and pretty

and a much loved dog indeed.

She’s won the hearts of family

and won the hearts of friends

and obviously she owns mine

and will unto the end.

She’s the best small companion

who is fearless, game and smart.

Elly is everybody’s friend -

but I hold her in my heart.

Maureen Clifford ©