Some of our group watching Ruby, the Wallaroo.
The Hills of Gold are a breathtaking backdrop to life in a small rural village. Changing colour with the position of the sun, the hills seduce you with their beauty and drama.
We spent the better part of the day here, in the Lilliputian town of Nundle which is cradled between the western fall of the Great Dividing Range and the Peel River.
One of the highlights was the Dag Sheep Station. I bet you don’t know what dag means. Well, I’ll tell you. It’s the creative name given to the clingons that stick to a sheep’s fleece at the butt end.
Baa, before and after.
It’s not a working sheep station anymore, though the place is rich in history. Now its picturesque setting is mainly used for weddings and other events like ours, hosting a group of tourists, giving a sheep shearing demo and then putting on a sumptuous lunch before sending us on our way.
Bob and Baa, the ‘sacrificial lamb’, took their place front and center and as Bob sheared, he told us Baa’s story. The poor lamb broke a leg when he was very little. They were going to put him down, but decided to first try and save him and used a plastic pipe as a makeshift splint. That worked, and Baa is now 7 months old and the family’s pet.
In return for his life, he submits to being shorn for show.
On the way to lunch I spoke with one of the hosts who seemed quite knowledgeable about sheap shearing.
“Do you shear sheep?”
“No, I’m a banker.”
“Oh, you just fleece people.”
Go mom, go! Shear that sheep! Looks like you're earing your keep while you're there.
ReplyDeleteClever joke, too!