Raindrops Falling On My Head

After weeks of drought the weather has broken and we've had four days of rain plus it's turned chilly. Wet weather is also a great time to discover that your gumboots are leaking. Well I actually knew they would as a long split appeared near the base of the right one due to age (they're seven years old) so I've endured weeks of small stones making their way into the boot and lodging painfully under my foot. So next time I get some unexpected cash I'm off to Farmlands (the mecca super store of rural dwellers) to buy myself a new pair.

After weeks and weeks of sitting Cordelia the hen still has not managed to hatch any eggs. The Wyandotte ones should have hatched a week ago but nothing happened. Can't work out what's wrong but I think we're going to have to blame the hen because she's tried three batches of googies without success and you can't tell me that they were all infertile. My friend John says you can buy small incubators cheaply and he'll keep an eye out for one for me.

My autumn clean up has faltered because of the rain. I was trying to remove coats off the angora youngsters but even though we were under cover they still felt damp. I will get back onto this today once we get some clear weather otherwise their coats will web and then matt and I'll lose the lot. I still don't know if I have enough fibre for the Creative Fibre Festival in Taradale, Napier next month but if I have a run on it (unlikely as most spinners are frightened to use it) I will take orders. I need to buy in more breeding stock but have to wait for other breeders to have litters and obviously if they're reputable people they'll only have a couple a year unlike the bunny mill breeders who churn animals out for the pet market, not caring where they end up. Tossing up whether to breed Meadow to Frodo again before winter as their last litter was so good. Then perhaps by spring I'll have new stock to bring in new blood.

Angel cat has still not returned and it's over twelve weeks now. Piper has also been gone four days. I don't know what is calling them out across the fields but when they return they'll be locked in each night from now on. I can't take the worry!

The Last Days of Summer

Daylight saving finishes tonight. This always makes me a little sad as I realize that summer has ended and winter is on its way. However on the other hand in six months it will be spring and I'll be looking forward to long evenings where I have the freedom to go outside without a torch and woolen gloves.

There is still the smell of burnt grass in the mornings as we have had no rain to speak of for weeks. If it doesn't arrive soon there is going to be trouble. Just the other day I saw a farmer feeding hay out to his cattle, something that usually only happens in July/August.

Of course the drought doesn't affect Briar the donkey and Tobermory the goat. If anything they seem to put on more weight in these conditions. Poor Briar has been relegated to the back hill paddock by my landlord and although she has company in the form of several cows she is missing hanging with the horses. However there isn't much grass in that field so hopefully she'll work off some of the rolls of fat that she's managed to accumulate.

I have begun my big Autumn clean up in the rabbitry. Taking off coats before I begin the soul destroying task of cleaning the cages. I am intending to have a change round in there as well. There are a couple of cages I want out of there so I can spray the walls down with disinfectant. I am still trying to save up to replace some of my cages and hopefully will have these finished by the winter as well.

As for the garden......well the least said the better. Doesn't matter how much I water the plants still brown off and die. Except the roses which seem to be thriving. I wish I had more than two bushes but always toss up as to whether I want to spend money on a place I don't own as I will have to move on at some point. On the other hand rose bushes aren't all that expensive and at least I would get some pleasure from them before I head off into the sunset.

The Egg Man

My Shetland Sheepdog Mishka has a problem with his stomach. Unfortunately it isn't big enough to match the size of his eyes where food is concerned. Bordering on the verge of needing a canine Jenny Craig Mish supplements his diet with what has turned into a secret obsession. Mishka is a sneaky egg eater.

With so many game fowl descended bantams I am constantly finding nests in out of the way places. Mostly. Usually Mish manages to find them before I do. The only way I know this is from his dirty white bib, a guilty look and "The Smell".

"The Smell" is a combination of chicken poop and sulphur. It pervades every corner of the room, soaks into your skin and makes your eyes water. If I haven't a supply of strong incense to burn I am exceedingly miserable. Often a good hose down of his hairy rear end is the only thing that can freshen his scrofulous odour.

Last Saturday Mish obviously discovered something nasty in the toi toi bushes. For that windfall we have been punished all week. In the mornings I open the kitchen door to find a mess on the floor as he hasn't bothered to tell me he needs to go out (this has happened four times this week till finally last night I just covered everything in newspaper which saved me alot of heartache).

The piece de resistance came yesterday when I had a rare visitor. We were talking at the other end of the cottage and on coming back into the sitting room discovered something definitely very nasty on my burgundy rug. Horrified my caller shrank back against the wall while I cleaned up the mess and disinfected. I'll be lucky if she ever comes back.

When I remember Mish in years to come it will always be his predilection for eggs and his bowels I will recall the most.............

Ides of March

It is the first of March here in New Zealand. I remembered to say rabbits first thing this morning (forgot about saying "hares" last thing before going to sleep though) so lets hope that brings me some luck.

Judy M dropped in nine Wyandotte eggs last Sunday. It worked out well as when I went to put them under Cordelia she was out having a drink so I was able to clean out all the old ones (another had exploded that morning) and put a fresh nest in. She knew what I was doing as she kept popping her head through the door and clucking abuse at me. However the joy of having a new batch of eggs overcame her objections and she's back on the boil. Poor thing seems to have been sitting forever.

I have an interesting problem with my house bun Muggles. He has fallen in love with Mishka the dog and unfortunately it seems to be in the biblical sense. I let him out to have breakfast with us (he gets a little crust off my toast) and noticed he was following Mish round the room. He then began circling frantically even hopping under his stomach. Next thing.......well I'm afraid that's x rated. Suffice to say that he got the wrong way round and it all ended in tears! However I don't have much sympathy for the dog either as he has a similar habit......with the cats. This is a twisted household.