Never miss a Bush Pub, so we trekked to as many as we could find during the next weeks. We dropped into Nindigully Pub, full of character, complete with the hitching rails for the horses. The menu included a 3ft hot dog and burgers so huge, they were used in a calendar shoot to hide the crown jewels of local bucks.
As we continued to Hebel Pub, we thought something was wrong with the tyres, but later figured out via the publican that it was the latest in solar-powered, electronic, virtual grids which were warbling eerily. The publican had had a heavy night, but opened just for us on Monday morning and told us a tale or two. Sitting next to him was an oldtimer with a noble face etched with lines and twinkling eyes.
The publican explained that metal, cattle grids are very expensive and time consuming to maintain, so the state was trialling the new solar, sonic grids which some station owners thought worked, whilst others weren’t so sure. The grids certainly drove the roos troppo.
Next, he asked if we had seen one of the last instances of grid dogs which are kept in pairs on chains in corrugated tin kennels on either side of the grid. They are fed and watered daily, and rotated every three days. When bitches have pups, the youngsters grow up being taught their grid duties by their mums. Animal movements have started to protest. The tradition is dying out.
I was mightily intrigued, but wondered if I was being had, so I Googled and could only find either 'Formula 1 grid girls' or 'did you mean guide dog?', not quite the same. At the suggestion of the publican, we popped into the artist John Murray's gallery in Lightning Ridge where just as the Publican had said, John displayed delightful pictures of grid dog life.
The art gallery is a gem, so many excellent cartoons, not least one of Tony Abbott as a budgie smuggler, complete with budgies in his underpants. We bought a small print of a 4wd rig being shaken to pieces, to place in our motorhome.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comment: