The rubber boot catastrophe

The day did not start well. Wayne arrived outside the office window while I was feeding Alex in the pre-dawn gloom and tossed a boot onto the verandah, rubbed at it with some grass, uttered an expletive, pulled on his Blundstones and roared off into the fog once more.

Bemused, I snapped this photo.

Papas Left Rubber Boot

Papa's lonely left rubber boot

Daylight revealed a sorry picture. Wayne had been ushering bulls into their rest paddock when he stumbled into the Mulch Mud Morass, a deep slurry with the gumboot-gobbling capability of quicksand. We’d spread the last few metres of the track near the dairy with stringy mulch during the big wet to make it nice and soft underfoot for the cows. It worked well but it does have the disadvantage of trapping a lot of mud and manure. I asked the grader to scrape it away now that Spring is here but some of it became lodged near the bull paddock gate.

After becoming stuck, Wayne reportedly toppled over sideways into the Morass and found one foot had been freed from the goo. Alas, it was only due to the sacrifice of his right gum-boot (or Welly as some call it). And here it rests.

Papa's Boot

Right boot's sacrifice

3 thoughts on “The rubber boot catastrophe

  1. Pingback: Sprinkle the cow track with rose petals | The Milk Maid Marian

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