Pigs might fly |
We're in Sydney and it's Easter, so where else would I find myself but the Sydney Royal Easter Show? I read the show programme with my kids and we made a list of the things we wanted to see. The Supercoat Flyball Challenge (a kind of mini doggy Olympics), carnivorous plant show judging and diving pigs (I kid you not) were top of the page.
As we drove out to Sydney Olympic Park our hopes were high. My boys wondered if they'd get to shear a sheep or milk a cow. I pondered the fact that rural romance is one of the fastest growing genres in Australian fiction and my thoughts turned to fit young farmers with tanned biceps and strong thighs striding around in butt-hugging denims and plaid shirts...
Dear reader, I could not have been more disappointed. My farmer fantasies may have come straight out of Aussie TV show, The Farmer Wants a Wife, but most of the guys at the show would have been more at home on The Biggest Loser - and clearly knew more about cheese dogs than sheep dogs. Now I'm no country gal, but I know a good thing when I see one - and an enormous, bread crumbed, cheesy phallus, deep fried and smothered in ketchup is not one of them.
So if you're a city chick looking for rural romance, I'd say don't bother heading out to the Easter Show. You might be better off staying at home with Rachael Treasure's 50 Bales of Hay. Publishers HarperCollins say Treasure's collection of 12 short stories 'will have you clamouring for a stock whip, a saddle and a jackaroo' and is 'guaranteed to get your tractor revving.' It's also supposed to be very funny.
Laughter and chocolate are famously two of the best aphrodisiacs, so why not grab 50 Bales and a Lindt bunny and have yourself a very happy Easter...
Tales of lust in the dust |
Are you sure it was a breadcrumbed phallus and not just your warped imagination? As they say, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
ReplyDeleteI hope you're right. Either way, there's no way I'd want to be getting my laughing gear around one of those.
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