Madeline spends a week travelling between properties with her dad.
PHOTOGRAPHY MADELINE CURR
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After travelling between properties with her dad, Madeline Curr appreciates the comforts of home.
WORDS AND PHOTOGRAPHY MADELINE CURR
I always thought that we were meant to hibernate and sleep more during winter, but this month feels busier than ever for my farming family.
It’s 5.05am and I know Dad’s already in the kitchen with the fire on, and has been for some time now. Dad says he likes to have the fires going through the night because it gives him something to do when he wakes up at 2am (I think this is called old age — #winkyface).
Mum’s there as well, wrapped up in her fluffy robe. After I look her outfit up and down, she offers the excuse, “Hey, I’ve been up for hours!” It’s true, she has: packing our food and essentials for the next week when Dad and I will be on the road driving between our agistment properties. On the bloody road again. I think Dad’s spent more time sleeping in his truck than sleeping in his bed at home over the past few months.
I’m going through the mental checklist in my head: saddle, boots and spurs, extra jumpers, lip gloss (you never know), my two horses… I hear the truck start up and know that it’s time to get a move on. There’s no mucking around when the truck roars its engine.
I love trucking with Dad, because most of the time there’s no phone reception, so that means no social media. No missing out, no falling behind, no expectations. Just the road, Dad and me. And Slim Dusty. It’s a great bonding time, but after we’ve been away for a few days I start wishing I was back in my own bed. And when we get home, Mum greets us and I watch her and Dad embrace each other.
I haven’t been away too long, but after a week I’m definitely missing my friends. A girl can only listen to so much Slim Dusty. So I call some friends over to watch the full moon with me.
We take the buggy out into the paddock, mindful of our speed; we can feel our eyes watering in the winter wind. With a bottle of red wine, sharing scary stories by the campfire, I don’t want to ruin the moment by taking my camera out to get some shots of this wholesome moment, but a creative cowgirl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do.
In a perfect world, my camera would be strapped to me every day, capturing the perfect shots to share with you all, but in reality it’s a side hustle. Lately my days have been taken up with Wagyu DNA test results and bulky work computers that look like they’re made for the nineties. I can feel myself becoming overwhelmed with the juggle of my work life and my creative life.
Sometimes I try to blend the two. Like a Wagyu lunch photoshoot: two birds with one stone. To finish the week we have a family-and-friends lunch in the garden. I want to snap some shots for our beef business socials, but give a certain family member two glasses of Champagne and they suddenly have selective hearing when it comes to the job at hand. How could you blame them, with a magnificent steak in front of them on a warm winter afternoon?
Even though this was a wonderfully hectic end to my wonderfully hectic week, winter does have its glorious moments. So maybe I’ll leave hibernation to the bears.
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