Last weekend. The girls and I got our rodeo on on Saturday night. Strangely, I’ve attended quite a few rodeos in my time including ones in Victoria, NSW, Utah, one on the Nullarbor and now one in Kalgoorlie. Going to rodeos makes me want to throw away my life and become a cow girl, but thankfully that’s a dream I’ve not yet had the commitment to see through (there’s really only so much dirt I can handle under my fingernails).

On Sunday we got dressed in our third-best racing outfits and headed to the Boulder Cup only to be informed that all races had been cancelled due to a soggy patch along the track. Considering a trip to the races for us rarely involves the actual viewing of a race, horse or jockey we nabbed a sunny spot and took turns buying rounds of cheap sparkling wine. My faithful man-friend later picked us up – only slightly inebriated – and drove us home via the Hungry Jacks drive through. Bliss.