The Bogart Boogie...
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In South Australia (Bethany), I have a fabulous friend with many incredible talents. She and her husband are outstanding photographers, too. She posts amazing pics on Instagram, Twitter, (I suppose?), and fb - perhaps, Snapchat, all those social media outlets I have yet learned to use; stunning pics which are titled: mybarossawalk. The Bethany area and Tanunda have spectacular settings...literally show stopping scenery that takes your breath away.
But, I have something, too: COWS.
Yes, you read that correctly. Each day I strive for my hourly walk...my Bogart Boogie time...well, it's a little less than an hour now because I'm much faster. I stroll through rolling hills and I pass a small, flowing, bubbly creek, but most importantly I call out and sing to the cows. I think they must enjoy it because now when they see me coming they bellow out to me first. And...rarely does a car pass; when it does normally something funny or strange comes out of the incident. The point is: I cannot sing, but I feel free to do so and I like to make up songs in opera...COW opera. Yep. That's right. The little calves come up to the fence as I pass them singing. Damn. I love cows. The love of cows has always been there, but intensified when we spent 3 weeks in Ireland. Irish dairy cows DO make the creamiest, tastiest, most luxurious ice cream in the world. I do not normally eat ice cream. I devoured a life-time's worth in Ireland. I cannot go back to that country again - ever! Ha!
In the fields you'll see jet black cows, chestnut cows, blonde cows, caramel coloured calves, spotted faces, speckled bodies, all sorts of shapes, sizes, and ages. The calves are always the most inquisitive and delightful to watch. Some of the Moms are still very protective, too. Good Moms.
When I last visited, there were 2 lovely horses in the same paddock and I swear ONE, LONELY buffalo. I made my daughter drive out to the road with me and she agreed that it did NOT look like a cow. It was chocolate brown, had 2 huge, dark horns, a stocky body, a fuzzy looking head and massive shoulder girth. I don't care what anybody says. It was a buffalo. That buffalo is not there now. It used to spend its grazing time right next to the pond. Strange...I suppose it went to the buffalo factory or maybe the farmer traded it for at least 4 cows. I'm going to ask that farmer the next time I see him. HOW often to you go on your daily walk and see a buffalo? Missing that character.
There is one stubborn, grey donkey, too, that acts as the protector of the entire herd. Why would a farmer have only one of something? (Well, I DO know the answer to that, but...they wouldn't have to be the opposite sex, would they?) Now, that I think about it I may not fully understand donkey genetics. It gets confusing: hinnies and mules; sterile. Oh well, doesn't matter. This darn donkey doesn't act as if he likes his job that much and probably needs a friend to help him HEE-HAW; he needs to get up to some darn good donkey business; no one can do that alone. Sad looking, but kicks at everything including the air.
One of the horses was a very tall dapple grey mare (exceptionally beautiful) and a smaller chestnut horse with a white stripe down his face to his nose and a long, black mane. On the very first Bogart Boogie I saw these 2 lovely creatures again, but this time they were both lying down and I don't blame them because it was about 10 degrees with an icy, encrusted ground. Poor things; no blankets either. I would take carrots in my pockets every time I went out in hope I could give each a tasty treat. Certain days they would be too far out in the paddock and could not get their lazy butts over to me no matter how hard I tried to coerce them or call out to them. They looked desolate and I think they were a bit older, but at least they had each other. Now, the horses are missing; I have never seen them again after my first, big, Bogart Boogie stomp down the road. What is going on???
Only the other day it was spitting outside with rain, black clouds hanging about, but I wanted to boogie before it got dark. So, off I go with a hooded rain jacket. I boogied, too. I stomped as quickly as possible because the temp was dropping. I was probably three-quarters of my way through and an older automobile, VERY LONG, and sloping down in the back...slowed and pulled a bit towards me. Hmmmm...an older guy with a straw hat and his fingers curled around a cigar hung his head out the window: 'Hey young lady...I'll be glad to take you anywhere you'd like to go. You wanna get out of this rain?' Well, first of all I am not a young lady and secondly...I thought I would raise both of my arms straight UP in the air showing my phone in one hand and loudly replied with a smile, 'No, thanks...I'm great. I LOVE WALKING IN THE RAIN.' Cars are NEVER on this road or at least, rarely. Another smaller SUV comes right up on this guy's butt and now he knows he has to 'get a move on'. I look over at the woman with my eyebrows above my head and she mouths, 'ARE YOU OKAY?' Well, I smiled and shrugged and they both went on their way. I am thinking that perhaps the older man was simply a gentleman and didn't like to see a female (or anyone) walking in the rain. But, damn, as fast as I was going he could see that I was out exercising...hmmmmmm...again. Have no clue if this could have been something ominous or if this guy was indeed a gentleman. You know how we are always told to change the route we use for walking or jogging? Well, I don't want to do that because the cows are my good mates now. Ha! TRULY.
Immediately after I hear another motor behind me ~ Gheeeeeez-friggin-Louuuuuise ~ I had been watching the calves in the paddock nosing around something copper, glistening in the rain, and whatever it was they were most interested. At first I thought it was a teeny calf curled around itself and all others were nudging it; it was a bit disconcerting. Anyway...the motor is coming up behind me so I walk even faster. I made this snarl and snapped my neck back to take a look; by this time I did not want any further human company. Well, it must have been the farmer whom owned the paddock and the cows; it appeared he wanted to check a gate. Seconds later he pulled around me and stopped by the water troughs up the road ahead of me. YAY! I approached him and said, 'Excuse me, sir, but there used to be 2 horses in this paddock.' He was far shorter than I, twinkling sky blue eyes, weathered skin, and sleek, gray hair and he replied, 'Yes, ma'am; but they weren't mine; I told sum people they could keep em' here, but no one, nobody looked after 'em...they were miserable, so I gave 'em away to someone who really wanted 'em. I said, 'Oh, I would have gladly taken them and he replied firmly, 'TOO LATE!' (Have no clue what we would have done with 2 horses but they were sweet, gentle creatures; anyway, I was pleased they had a new home.) Then, I pointed into the cluster of cows and asked, 'Sir, what is that ~ what is the object...in the middle of the calves; what are they doing?' I got half of a laugh and he said, 'You know...them balloons that fly way high in the air and go for days???' I said, 'Yes, of course, helium balloons.' He grunted, 'Yeee-up, that's right; that's what's in that field and them calves are playin' with it.' Well, I'll be damned. Did not know - ever - that calves played with 'toys', but I was a witness. Old farmer had had enough; he tipped his hat and was back UP IN HIS TRUCK before I could say another word. Damn. Damn. Damn. I did not get the chance to ask him about his buffalo - - - - his ONE and ONLY single buffalo. I got the feeling he liked people as much as I did when I'm out walking. THIS is THE reason I will not change my route; need badly to ask him about the buffalo king before I depart for Australia.
One never knows how interesting the landscape can be right outside your own back door.
Try it - go for a big stomp or a boogie and if your area is highly populated you can opt to leave out the opera.
Posting with the warmth of good, country, Bogart memories...
Blanco, Missing Tinto Terribly,
but very happy to spend time with my Bogart Girls, too.
One-half of The Roaming Stevens...
PS: A few Bogart Boogie pics will be posted on fb:theroamingstevens and A few below. Have a look at my NEW mates!
In South Australia (Bethany), I have a fabulous friend with many incredible talents. She and her husband are outstanding photographers, too. She posts amazing pics on Instagram, Twitter, (I suppose?), and fb - perhaps, Snapchat, all those social media outlets I have yet learned to use; stunning pics which are titled: mybarossawalk. The Bethany area and Tanunda have spectacular settings...literally show stopping scenery that takes your breath away.
But, I have something, too: COWS.
Yes, you read that correctly. Each day I strive for my hourly walk...my Bogart Boogie time...well, it's a little less than an hour now because I'm much faster. I stroll through rolling hills and I pass a small, flowing, bubbly creek, but most importantly I call out and sing to the cows. I think they must enjoy it because now when they see me coming they bellow out to me first. And...rarely does a car pass; when it does normally something funny or strange comes out of the incident. The point is: I cannot sing, but I feel free to do so and I like to make up songs in opera...COW opera. Yep. That's right. The little calves come up to the fence as I pass them singing. Damn. I love cows. The love of cows has always been there, but intensified when we spent 3 weeks in Ireland. Irish dairy cows DO make the creamiest, tastiest, most luxurious ice cream in the world. I do not normally eat ice cream. I devoured a life-time's worth in Ireland. I cannot go back to that country again - ever! Ha!
In the fields you'll see jet black cows, chestnut cows, blonde cows, caramel coloured calves, spotted faces, speckled bodies, all sorts of shapes, sizes, and ages. The calves are always the most inquisitive and delightful to watch. Some of the Moms are still very protective, too. Good Moms.
When I last visited, there were 2 lovely horses in the same paddock and I swear ONE, LONELY buffalo. I made my daughter drive out to the road with me and she agreed that it did NOT look like a cow. It was chocolate brown, had 2 huge, dark horns, a stocky body, a fuzzy looking head and massive shoulder girth. I don't care what anybody says. It was a buffalo. That buffalo is not there now. It used to spend its grazing time right next to the pond. Strange...I suppose it went to the buffalo factory or maybe the farmer traded it for at least 4 cows. I'm going to ask that farmer the next time I see him. HOW often to you go on your daily walk and see a buffalo? Missing that character.
There is one stubborn, grey donkey, too, that acts as the protector of the entire herd. Why would a farmer have only one of something? (Well, I DO know the answer to that, but...they wouldn't have to be the opposite sex, would they?) Now, that I think about it I may not fully understand donkey genetics. It gets confusing: hinnies and mules; sterile. Oh well, doesn't matter. This darn donkey doesn't act as if he likes his job that much and probably needs a friend to help him HEE-HAW; he needs to get up to some darn good donkey business; no one can do that alone. Sad looking, but kicks at everything including the air.
One of the horses was a very tall dapple grey mare (exceptionally beautiful) and a smaller chestnut horse with a white stripe down his face to his nose and a long, black mane. On the very first Bogart Boogie I saw these 2 lovely creatures again, but this time they were both lying down and I don't blame them because it was about 10 degrees with an icy, encrusted ground. Poor things; no blankets either. I would take carrots in my pockets every time I went out in hope I could give each a tasty treat. Certain days they would be too far out in the paddock and could not get their lazy butts over to me no matter how hard I tried to coerce them or call out to them. They looked desolate and I think they were a bit older, but at least they had each other. Now, the horses are missing; I have never seen them again after my first, big, Bogart Boogie stomp down the road. What is going on???
Only the other day it was spitting outside with rain, black clouds hanging about, but I wanted to boogie before it got dark. So, off I go with a hooded rain jacket. I boogied, too. I stomped as quickly as possible because the temp was dropping. I was probably three-quarters of my way through and an older automobile, VERY LONG, and sloping down in the back...slowed and pulled a bit towards me. Hmmmm...an older guy with a straw hat and his fingers curled around a cigar hung his head out the window: 'Hey young lady...I'll be glad to take you anywhere you'd like to go. You wanna get out of this rain?' Well, first of all I am not a young lady and secondly...I thought I would raise both of my arms straight UP in the air showing my phone in one hand and loudly replied with a smile, 'No, thanks...I'm great. I LOVE WALKING IN THE RAIN.' Cars are NEVER on this road or at least, rarely. Another smaller SUV comes right up on this guy's butt and now he knows he has to 'get a move on'. I look over at the woman with my eyebrows above my head and she mouths, 'ARE YOU OKAY?' Well, I smiled and shrugged and they both went on their way. I am thinking that perhaps the older man was simply a gentleman and didn't like to see a female (or anyone) walking in the rain. But, damn, as fast as I was going he could see that I was out exercising...hmmmmmm...again. Have no clue if this could have been something ominous or if this guy was indeed a gentleman. You know how we are always told to change the route we use for walking or jogging? Well, I don't want to do that because the cows are my good mates now. Ha! TRULY.
Immediately after I hear another motor behind me ~ Gheeeeeez-friggin-Louuuuuise ~ I had been watching the calves in the paddock nosing around something copper, glistening in the rain, and whatever it was they were most interested. At first I thought it was a teeny calf curled around itself and all others were nudging it; it was a bit disconcerting. Anyway...the motor is coming up behind me so I walk even faster. I made this snarl and snapped my neck back to take a look; by this time I did not want any further human company. Well, it must have been the farmer whom owned the paddock and the cows; it appeared he wanted to check a gate. Seconds later he pulled around me and stopped by the water troughs up the road ahead of me. YAY! I approached him and said, 'Excuse me, sir, but there used to be 2 horses in this paddock.' He was far shorter than I, twinkling sky blue eyes, weathered skin, and sleek, gray hair and he replied, 'Yes, ma'am; but they weren't mine; I told sum people they could keep em' here, but no one, nobody looked after 'em...they were miserable, so I gave 'em away to someone who really wanted 'em. I said, 'Oh, I would have gladly taken them and he replied firmly, 'TOO LATE!' (Have no clue what we would have done with 2 horses but they were sweet, gentle creatures; anyway, I was pleased they had a new home.) Then, I pointed into the cluster of cows and asked, 'Sir, what is that ~ what is the object...in the middle of the calves; what are they doing?' I got half of a laugh and he said, 'You know...them balloons that fly way high in the air and go for days???' I said, 'Yes, of course, helium balloons.' He grunted, 'Yeee-up, that's right; that's what's in that field and them calves are playin' with it.' Well, I'll be damned. Did not know - ever - that calves played with 'toys', but I was a witness. Old farmer had had enough; he tipped his hat and was back UP IN HIS TRUCK before I could say another word. Damn. Damn. Damn. I did not get the chance to ask him about his buffalo - - - - his ONE and ONLY single buffalo. I got the feeling he liked people as much as I did when I'm out walking. THIS is THE reason I will not change my route; need badly to ask him about the buffalo king before I depart for Australia.
One never knows how interesting the landscape can be right outside your own back door.
Try it - go for a big stomp or a boogie and if your area is highly populated you can opt to leave out the opera.
Posting with the warmth of good, country, Bogart memories...
Blanco, Missing Tinto Terribly,
but very happy to spend time with my Bogart Girls, too.
One-half of The Roaming Stevens...
PS: A few Bogart Boogie pics will be posted on fb:theroamingstevens and A few below. Have a look at my NEW mates!
They DO come closer when they hear me singing!
LOVE THIS BABY!
Oh i love this !! You are tooooo funny !!! Buffalo .. for sure !!
ReplyDeleteDurn right it was! Buffalo in Bogart.
ReplyDelete