Ironpot Acres in Dululu, Queensland | Personal blog

Ironpot Acres

Locality: Dululu, Queensland

Phone: +61 407 750 732

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25.01.2022 HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE!!! Although we had a great year, I know not everyone did. So I won’t harp about what a sh*t year! Hope next year is better....... OR It was the best year! Your year was your year. We had an exciting end to the year..... Farmer Joe decided to whack himself in the head and we spent 6 hours at the hospital getting a CT scan, and 5 staples to close the wound. We managed to see the New Year in with the bestest of friends, drinking delicious cocktails and playing poker into the early hours..... Shout out to the man who I unleashed my crazy ass on this afternoon. You let your dog off leash while you had a nap and it attacked my goats. Bad move. Glad you jumped in your car and took off as fast as you did... Even my kids were shocked at my out pouring of anger.... Luckily none of our goats were badly hurt, just a little shook up. Happy New Years to all our family and friends.

20.01.2022 https://youtu.be/-aBtt3u6KnA

19.01.2022 Tomorrow is our first (VERY small, socially distanced) gift exchange. Time for Mom's annual gift-giving role play. I wrote about the process last year: 1. I de...scribed to the kids a loved one who has thought about them, picked something special out, wrapped it up, and is super excited to see them open it. 2. Okay, now let’s pretend you open it up and it’s something you do NOT like. What might you say? 3. Okay, now let’s pretend you open it and it’s something you already have. 4. Now let’s pretend it’s clothes. 5. Now let’s pretend it’s the wrong size. In between, we roleplayed rude or potentially hurtful responses as well, and discussed how they might accidentally make someone feel. I explained what returns and exchanges are, and assured them that these options will be discussed privately after all gifts are opened. The fact is, when opening gifts, our kids, often loaded with sugar, have to juggle the anticipation, then emotional let-down, all in a split moment, while sitting square in the center of attention. My aim is to set them up for success ahead of time. Sure enough, during our gift exchange last year, Little Lady (age 6) received a book she already owns. She genuinely thanked her Aunt and later whispered to me, Momma, we have two of these now. Maybe we can give this one to my little sister! I praised her for her kindness and was proud of how she handled it. We’re not teaching them to lie or be dishonest about their feelings; we’re modeling empathy, and teaching them to be sensitive to the feelings of the giver. Let me know if you try this tip and share with us how it goes. {While we’re at it, have you ever been mortified by your kids’ cringey reactions to a gift? We’d all love to hear about it. } #HRmom #repost

17.01.2022 *********UPDATE the original author of this fantastically, feral piece of writing is 'Jameson Beckard' from Wisconsin, USA and her page is Beckard Family Farm-J....B. Black Label Silkies . Please go and give her a LIKE. Xxxxx "Ode to the feral women I’d like to tell you that my dishes have only piled up the past 2 days because I’ve been around the clock prepping for this atrocious weather but that would only be partially true. They pile up any time I can find anything reasonably justified to do other than dishes. Just as laundry follows the same suit as well as cooking and cleaning at times. When I was married to my first husband he frequently pointed out that I lacked domestic skills. When he (my was-band) would get irritated I would turn it back onto him and tell him he also could do dishes and laundry as well as cook and clean. His argument was he needed to tend the yard or shovel the snow. I told him I also wanted to tend yard or shovel snow. I realized then it wasn’t that I lacked skill but desire. My soul is not set fire by being the best home maker but by growing flowers and plants, shoveling dirt, snow or manure, breathing the cold fresh air, letting them sun beat on my face, and tending animals. It is not that I can not cook and clean it’s that I desire to be else where. I’ve struggled with the fact that I am well me. I am a feral woman. As much as I wish I could be the sweet and clean home maker, I am not. I finally made peace with this when I saw a quote circulating around that said, the term domesticate house wife implies there must be a feral one It’s me and other women I know. I am and we are feral women. We may not have perfect houses but we still make them a home. We may not clean the dishes right after every meal but we can sure cook a good meal. The laundry is lagging but at the end of the day everyone has something clean to wear. We may not be domesticate but it does not make us less. If anything our strength is found as we carry feed sacks across our shoulders,as we till up dirt to plant gardens, as we end a life to provide food for our families all while we still carry the softness of a woman. Here is to the feral women. May we be them, may we know them, may we raise them. Author unknown, but clearly a bloody marvelous woman. P.s. if anyone knows who wrote this, I will happily tag her in. Xxx

16.01.2022 Kat Steck, IG: @thejunkyardjournals

15.01.2022 The first police officer reaches under the one-ton bale of hay and attempts to lift it off of me. Of course, it doesn’t budge. He grabs his flashlight and shine...s it under the hay into my face. I blink. He yells over his shoulder to his partner, He’s alive! He’s alive! Help me move the hay. Even working together two officers can’t move it not a fraction of an inch. A thousand pounds each? Of course they can’t move it. Cut the strings, I whisper. My voice is weak. They can’t hear me. I am not going to last much longer. If they will just cut the strings, the bale will break apart, and they can drag me out of here. Lift, Joe, lift! Just cut the strings, I mumble, Please cut the strings. C’mon harder. It’s too heavy! We can’t lift it. We gotta go for help! Hang on Chad, we’ll be right back! I am alone again in the growing darkness. Wonderful painless, peaceful, irresistible sleep beckons. I struggle to remain conscious. One. Two. Three. Four Where are they? How long does it take for police, fire, ambulance, to arrive? Where is the Coast Guard? Where are the Marines? Where is that one old farmer with enough common sense to just cut the strings? The desert air grows chilly as the sky darkens. I grow weaker. Dizziness overcomes me and I begin to drift off into that gray space somewhere between the living and the dead. Help finally arrives. One of the police officers bends down so I can see his face. Hold on! A fire engine is here. There are six men aboard. I do the math. Two big, strong cops and six burly firemen must move a ton of dead weight off me. That’s two hundred forty five pounds each. No way can they possibly do that but somehow, miraculously, they do. A couple of neighbors who have arrived at the scene stand by to catch me. They lower my limp body to the ground where I lie in a broken heap. Why didn’t they cut the strings? They could have saved a long, tortured hour. How heavy is hay? A piece of hay is about the weight of a feather. How many pieces of hay does it take to make two thousand pounds? Lots. That package of sixteen bazillion individual pieces of hay wrapped in a gigantic bundle is a crushing weight. But separated, it would have been nothing. I feel bad saying this, because it makes me sound ungrateful and I am very grateful to the guys who saved my life that night but there is a point to be made here, isn’t there? Is it too big? Is it overwhelming? Cut the strings just cut the strings! Are you buried under crushing burdens? Projects that are too huge? Schedules that are too complicated? Maybe you are trying to do too much at once trying to do everything instead of doing something. Cut the strings and cut yourself free. Do one thing at a time and get it Done. Move out of the strain of the doing into the peace of the done.

14.01.2022 Afternoons like these are what dreams are made of......

10.01.2022 And now, our one donkey is two donkeys....... **Magical!**

08.01.2022 We are having a lot of fun with our gorgeous baby girl Persy. She is always so excited to see us! ...that big soft muzzle is perfect for kissing....

07.01.2022 "I learn. I take the test. I pass. I forget what I learned." It's such a waste of time and a theft of kids' childhoods. This is why we unschool! Learning that ...happens in context while doing real, meaningful things kids are actually interested in is more easily learned and more likely to be remembered & used. No need for measuring and grading and testing.

06.01.2022 We have a few chickens that take their free ranging privileges to whole new levels..... Hen disappears for a couple of weeks, reappears with a couple new babies. Doesn’t get much cuter........