Goodbye 2008

Airini rode her motorbike over the other day and offered to supply a few 50kg feedbags to put my extra rubbish in which she would dump in "the gorge" which apparently is the repository for all the farm refuse. How she knew that I was beginning to sort through all my clutter is probably another good example of female intuition. Ever since I left Havelock North in March 2007 I have been intending to sort through my papers and get these into order. I also intended to do this when I shifted from next door in March 2008. Perhaps I will finally get the task completed before March 2009!

And yesterday was a big day for Bumble my blue angora because it was the day to pass the buck. I clipped Giselle's fibre from her rear and introduced them through the wire of the cage, popped her inside and it was fireworks, streamers and a carrot for afters.

Christmas 2008

'Tis the season for TV repeats. What's worse is that the powers that be show the same films every year and ones that seem to have nothing to do with Christmas. "The Man Who Lost His Head" (how that's meant to get you into the holiday spirit is beyond my comprehension), "Maid In Manhatten" again, "The World's Fastest Indian" again, and cruellest of all "Daydream Believers: The Monkee's Story". I mean the world is in the worst economic recession since The Great Depression- aren't we suffering enough?

I was fraught with worry since I was making most of my presents this year and was concerned that people wouldn't like them or else assume I was a Scrooge. Christmas morning I was finishing wrapping the last of them when my brother and his wife paid a short visit before going to lunch in Tikokino. Gareth arrived just before noon to take me up the road to his mother's for the rest of the day. There were quite a few people there and so alot of hugging which I was not used to before coming to live here as our family is not so touchy feely- more slappy hitty. Gine had two friends staying from Germany and they also joined the party. It is so strange to feel part of a family that you're not related to by law or blood but it just confirms for me that my friends are my family (plus some of my family are my friends).

We had lunch outside in the garden before heading inside for present opening. Gine gave me a lovely fine bone china mug with black and white chickens on it which I intend to have my evening cup of tea in from now on. Late afternoon we went back to the garden for tea and Christmas cake while Gine and a local Tikokinonite (Cedric) played music on violin, accordian and guitar with Raphael and Dawn (Gine's friends) sometimes singing along as well. By 6pm I reluctantly realised it was time to go as I needed to feed everyone and have a rest. For the rest of the evening I lay on the sofa and watched "My Family and Other Animals" another adaptation of Gerald Durrell's classic book although, disappointingly, nowhere as good as the TV series that was made in the early 90s.

Peachy Poo, Hoggle's "Bits" and More Delinquancy

Peaches is a wonderfully soft caring cuddly cat who has one serious defect- she loves rolling in sheep manure. It's not noticeable until you pick her up and bury your nose into her silky fur only to have your nostrils singed by the pungent aroma. Mishka is even worse as he enjoys eating rotten eggs he finds hidden in the long grass plus he views the cats' litter trays as canine buffet tables. Enough reason not to allow my pets to lick my face- you never know where that tongue has been!

Three weeks ago today I heard a smashing sound and discovered one pane of the window here in the office broken. I have no idea what happened, whether a bird tried to fly through the glass, whether it was an act of God or an act of Goat, or else the rotten putty finally gave up the ghost. From past experience here I knew I would have trouble getting it repaired so I first rang my insurance company but because I only rent and don't own this house I am not covered. The following morning I called the property manager who said she'd ring the landlord and tell him which made my stomach sink. By Friday I had heard nothing more so I rang her again and she said she would leave another message. Two more days passed before I saw the landlord walking out the gate. He said he would ask a builder working on the big new cow shed if he would fix it for some beer- needless to say it is now three weeks and I still don't have a window. I am just so grateful it isn't winter.

A week ago Hoggle's wedding tackle finally dropped off and what a miserable little boy he was. He shivered and looked so sad, hiding in the dog kennels or else under the old wash house where he remained for three days. I finally pushed some grass under there and saw him eating and when he heard me come with pellets for the others he rushed out to join them. I blocked his access to under the shed and later saw him out the back grazing with Gretel and Heidi. Unfortunately Xena Warrior Goat couldn't join them and sometime during the night she broke her tether and took them away back down the gorge. I rang the next door neighbour who is keeping an eye out for them and will send them back home. Meanwhile it's time to buy Xena a thick chain...

The Great Carrot Heist and Other Stories

Had a phone call from my landlord the other night to ask if I had "actually made any effort to find a place to live". I was totally gobsmacked that he should come up with such a statement, especially as I am still way off the deadline for moving out. I have signs in all the local food stores, adverts in the two school newsletters plus everyone I know round here is asking everyone they know so in no way am I sitting back and doing nothing. Considering this guy hasn't fulfilled any of his promises (to fix two doors that either won't lock or won't open, to repair the back fence which allows stock to wander into the garden plus to paint a very grotty bathroom) I think he had a major cheek!

Rant over- I have been very pleased with the foxgloves I brought from the last cottage which are currently rear seven feet tall in front of the sitting room's bay window. I chucked Peaches up on the windowsill the other day to get a few photos. I still have two undeveloped films sitting on a kitchen shelf which I must get done soon as I've forgotten what's on them.

My vegetable garden took a beating when Heidi and Hoggle worked out they could move the cages I had protecting my precious plants and helped themselves to spinach and chard. Not to be left out Gretel just stood on the lettuces and pulverised them. The broccoli near the house escaped their notice and as too many came ready at the same time I cut them up, blanched and then froze them to eat later. More florets are forming so I should be able to get quite a harvest off them which is not too bad for $2.95!

This afternoon the animals lived up to their reputation for crazy behaviour when Mishka the dog faced off with Gretel Goat over a carrot. It actually was her dinner but Mish has an obsession with food and carrots in particular and his attitude was if she was going to leave a perfectly good carrot lying around she deserved to lose it! Gretel just blocked his way out through the gate and tried to outstare him. Mish actually curled his lips back and snarled at her which I've never seen him do before. In the end he grabbed the carrot and made a break for it, leaving Gretel folorn and carrotless!

The Unkindest Pinch Of All

Poor Hoggle was "itted" this week. A couple of months ago I had asked Andrew the farm manager if he could help and he promised to come over once he had time from other farm work. On Monday I was in the midst of moving Xena Warrior Goat into the shade when I saw Andrew hop the front fence walking towards me waving an elastigator in his hand. One sight of him was enough for Xena who broke away and ran towards the hen house with the others. I went back and caught Hoggle but when Andrew came near the girls panicked and jumped the fence into the paddock, hiding beneath the trees.

"She hates me" Andrew remarked.

I replied the Xena seemed to hate all men for some reason but he then explained that she really hated him because when he tried to round them up the previous week to bring them home she "was a right bitch" so he set the dogs on her.

He told me to hold Hoggle tightly by the head before swinging him upside down and sticking him between his legs. With one slight click the deed was done and a rubber ring was inserted at the base of Hog's family jewels. Not a sound until Andrew let him go when he wailed "Maaaaaaah look what they've done!" and ran off to find the others. It took me a full hour to catch Xena again and then that was only by rattling the pellet container. I tied her in the shade and Hoggle spent the next two hours sitting with her, periodically checking between his hind legs, stamping his feet and wagging his tail.

The next morning he seemed really miserable. He wouldn't eat, hiding beneath the old wash house which drove Xena to distraction. By Wednesday he was eating pellets again although his attempts at running were limited to a "hop, skip and jump" gait. This is the first morning he seems really relaxed and back to his old self although I'm still persona non goata. Who can blame him! The girls though are very happy since they don't have to excape Hoggle's many attempts at doing the wild thing.


A week ago I lost dear Sherbet at only three years of age from a heart attack. He seemed to rally for a couple of days before passing away in his sleep. He was a real character as a baby. Forever getting out of the nest box I once found him seemingly dead. However on observing a slight movement I rushed him inside the house, immersed him up to the neck in warm water which revived him before shoving him in my bra returning him to the nest box where I piled his siblings on top. Within an hour he was toasty warm and wiggling around like the rest. He was always the smallest in the litter though so perhaps there was always a weakness there I didn't know about. He now joins Grandfather Pip and Dad Frodo in that big carrot patch in the sky.

Delinquency Amongst the Livestock

I lost my goats! Two weeks ago we had a terrific storm which caused the dining room windows to leak, lifted up Toby's old goat house from its position in the paddock and threw it through the fence into the backyard (no mean feat as it's really heavy) as well as lifting off the rubbish bin lid and smashing it into a sculpture I'm working on (it improved it). Branches crashed down, the rain fell sideways and sheep were nearly blown up into the hills. So then Xena Warrior Goat decided to go walkabout.

At first she would march across the lawn, hop over the front fence with the others trotting behind. They would frequently graze up on the road and Airini and Andrew would shoo them back. However every day they would return for their pellets and a pat. Until nearly two weeks ago when I tried to tie Xena up in the small paddock to stop her wandering. She managed to get off her rope and took the others away.

For nearly a week I had no news. I asked Airini to keep an eye out, the mailman (who thought it a huge joke), I even rang a next door neighbour I hadn't yet met in case they'd wandered into their garden. It wasn't until a week ago while I was looking for them near the farm shed that I got some news when I came upon Andrew tinkering with a tractor.
"Lost yer goats?" he laughed. Yes well I had sort of mislaid them. Turned out they were grazing in a gully filled with blackberry on the farm next door. He assured me they would come home, wagging their tails behind them. More likely with an irate farmer on their trail threatening to shoot them I thought.

By this week I was really worried so I rang Andrew's wife Charlotte who suggested I ring the neighbours again. This time I was lucky as they had definitely been seen on their farm and the owner offered to round them up and shut them in a small paddock where I could collect them. However this morning I heard Andrew swearing at his dogs out the front and sure enough he had brought my delinquent kids home.

Soon as he left they jumped the fence and began heading up the drive until I rattled their pellet pot which brought them running. I tied Xena back near the woodshed with three knots this time and gave them food as they seemed to be very thin, wet and shivery. Late this afternoon I sat with them for half an hour, petting Gretel and trying to stop Hoggle headbutting very relieved they were home at last.

Progress is a word that strikes me with fear. It usually means noise, trouble plus the cutting down of large trees. Centerlines have been working along the road for a couple of weeks cutting trees in the way of power lines. This week several ancient macrocarpa trees to the right of the house were chopped down. To enable this Andrew pulled down the fence which meant Briar got out so I have had her grazing in here all week (the garden has had a nervous breakdown. Now a series of stark grey powerlines are marching across her paddock to where I assume the cowshed will be built. I guess I am more the greenie treehugger than I thought I was as a tree is much more valuable to me than the sight of a concrete pole. It reminds me of the poem which I think goes
"I guess that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree
In fact unless the billboards fall
I'll never see a tree at all!"

Rigid Heddle Loom

Each time I have gone to the library I have been looking for a book to help me learn how to use my small loom. I couldn't find anything vaguely resembling what I'd bought so googled looms and discovered that I hadn't bought a table loom at all but rather a table top rigid heddle loom. The good news though was that these are easy to use which with my fibro raddled mind is comforting to know.

I put a request out on an email list I'm subscribed to and had several answers as to good instruction books. The one that was most mentioned was "Weaving With The Rigid Heddle Loom" by Anne Field. I checked Trademe and sure enough there was a copy for sale there so I hurriedly bought it. What proved the greatest piece of luck s that the loom she demonstrates on is the very same make as mine. The book was published in 1980 so the pictures are a little old fashioned but as Anne Field is extremely well respected in the fibre field I am certain it will prove invaluable.

Xena has become such a naughty nanny goat, jumping the front fence into the field and even taking the others across the cattle stop out onto the road. Late yesterday afternoon Andrew arrived at my front door to tell me his wife was very unhappy as Xena had been in her veggie garden. How she made her way over there I have no idea but I was pretty mortified. I told Andrew that the landlord had promised me to repair the fences at the back of this place but hadn't done anything so he said he would come across with some standards and fix it up for me. That should stop Gretel pushing the netting over and letting the others across. I feel like a mother with delinquent children making a nuisance of themselves with the neighbours!

On The Road Again

It's been quite a week. Firstly losing Pip last Saturday, then his son Frodo had some sort of stroke the same day. He became extremely weak on his left side but I treated him with some fresh grass to tempt his appetite and by Monday he was sitting up again and eating on his pellets . Tuesday he seemed a bit weak and when I came home from my art class on Wednesday afternoon he was dead. Obviously he had had another fit as his water bottle was knocked off the cage. He and his Dad are buried side by side now in the garden.

Thursday 25th September was destined to be a life changing day. Just before lunchtime my landlord knocked on my front door and told me he had bad news. Although he had told me this rental was long term he had decided to convert the farm to dairy and would need my house for his new staff. He had known he would ask me to leave for five weeks as did nearly every one else here on the farm although they were told not to say anything. He has given me until the end of January 2009 to find somewhere else to live, mid March at the latest.

Shocked and slightly devastated I rang my brother, then my friend John and then finally my friend Glenys who drove here and sat with me for a couple of hours. She has already put the word out for another place for me with her brother and neighbours. All last night I kept waking up and wondering if this was just a nightmare. The third move in two years and this time with absolutely no cash. I guess I can never say life is boring!

Toodle Pip

Pip the angora bunny came to me about eight years ago through a friend who heard that he and his mother were looking for a new home. I got quite a shock when I first saw him as he had a hairy "bobble" hanging off his nose which apparently was the result of a fight with a mini lop when he was younger. Knowing Pip as I do now he would have started it.

Pip was a very quiet calm rabbit who took life as it came without any fuss. He sired two litters of which I still have three sons, plus his three grandsons and granddaughter. A few years ago he had one testicle removed as it was enlarged and the vet thought it could be cancer. I perhaps cruelly nicknamed him "One Hung Lo" after his operation. A year later the same thing had to be done so that he was fully castrated.

Over the past few months Pip has had times when he didn't want to eat his pellets but I always enticed him again. However when I recently took his coat off I discovered he'd developed many small cancerous lumps so assumed that he was near the end of his days. A friend promised that when it was needed he would put Pip down. In the end though I didn't need to make that decision because when I went out to see him yesterday morning he was lying on his side in a coma and passed away shortly afterwards. He must have been well over ten years old.

I wish I had a better photo of him but he always scrunched himself down when I went to take a picture as if he already knew he was not the most photogenic bunny in the shed. However what he didn't have in looks he made up for with personality.

Briar's PDS Moment

In the past few weeks since I posted lambs have been born, the days are lighter and Gretel has become a jumper. During the Olympics I convinced myself that she was practising as a gymnast when she jumped up onto the top of the wooden fence by her paddock and pirouetted and tripped along the one inch of wood as if she was performing a routine on the beam. Then there was the time she decided to become a marathon runner and I found her way out on the side of the road. When I called her she galloped back, jumping the cattle stop in one single bound and boinged her way across the grass. She also discovered where the pellets were kept on the veranda so I had to move them into the wash house except it only took her one day to discover their whereabouts and I would find her trying to open the top of the bag before exploding out of the door when she realised she'd been sprung.

Then Hoggle discovered he could squeeze between the gate and the gatepost and he would join Gretel on her adventures leaving his mother to call out to him in frustration along with Heidi whose legs are too short to make the jump over the fence. But now Gretel has shown Xena Warrior Goat how to jump and every morning I look out to find they're in the big paddock with Briar or in the back yard or worse, in my garden. Poor Heidi runs up and down the fence crying until she loses her voice and the little goat becomes a little hoarse.

I am having a bad day that no amount of chocolate could put right even if I hadn't just run out. The goats were grazing the backyard as per usual when Briar realised that she knew how to push her gate open. She made a break for the paddock in front of my place chasing the ewes in order to steal their lambs before heading up the winding drive towards the road. Putting on the brakes by the cattle stop when she worked out she was too fat to jump over it and hearing my call she trotted back down the track to me. However seeing that I had left the front gate open she seizied her big opportunity and rushed onto my lawn sending chickens flying in all directions.

Hearing all the commotion the goats arrived on the lawn only to be chased by Briar who was becoming more and more wound up. She chased the cats, she chased the dog, she raced around the back of the house out to the hen house and chased the chooks. Round and round she galloped tearing up the grass, braying, sending frightened animals scampering to safety.

Finally Briar ended up in the orchard field so I shut the gate before she could escape again. When she walked towards me I slipped her halter on and attempted to lead her out of the gate. She pushed me impatiently in the chest and snorted so I let her calm down for ten minutes before leading her back into her field.

I was at a loss to know what had caused her behaviour until I remembered it was three weeks since she previously chased the ewes and tried to take their babies away. Obviously she is in season again and this afternoon was just another PDS (Premenstrual Donkey Syndrome) moment. Unfortunately donkeys can't be placated by chocolate like human females can and it's difficult to find a handsome jack in her immediate vicinity so it looks like she's just going to have to take up a hobby and watch Johnny Depp DVDs like the rest of us...

A Winter Not So Wonderland

It was bitterly cold Monday evening but nothing prepared me for waking Tuesday morning to find the house surrounded by snow! It was piled on the trees, on the lawn, it iced the bare black berry branches and lay across the fields and hills all pure and white as you'd expect. I rushed out at 7.30am with my camera and took some shots of Demelza trying to walk across it and acting as if she was being shot at with every cautious pawstep and one of Briar bellowing to me that she was starving and cold from the paddock. Everything ordinary seemed transformed into something amazing.

By lunchtime the snow had nearly all melted although there was still quite a dusting on the Wakararas at the back of my place. As the day drew to a close the air grew colder and colder. Even with the fire going I still had to wrap up in a blanket on the sofa before giving up and heading for the security of the electric blanket and four cats. Next morning there was the mother of all frosts. I knew it was bad as the inside of my bedroom window was iced. All the water pipes had frozen so I had to take some water from the container I keep in the garage for the bunnies. Fortunately I was heading out and about so didn't have to shiver up here through the rest of the morning.

It feels like Spring will never come despite seeing all the lambs and the wattles flowering in the fields. This would have to count as one of the toughest winters I can ever remember surviving. I swear I will never complain about the heat ever again!

Storms and Soggy Creatures

I was without any internet connection for five days which caused serious withdrawal symptoms although my house has never looked tidier! In the week between the 26th July to the 3rd August we had three storms, two of which were particularly severe. The second hit on Tuesday afternoon 29th July and by the next morning the relentless rain coupled with a very strong wind had blown into the front verandah and soaked everything stored there as well as blowing the garage door open drenching the bunnies nearest the entrance. Being determined (i.e. crazy) Gay, Gine and I decided to make our way to art in Otane. On the trip in we were amazed at how quickly the water was spreading across the paddocks and all morning our minds were distracted by the rain thudding on the roof of the old schoolhouse. We were meant to spend some of the afternoon painting but at 2pm the six people brave enough to stay all looked at each other, packed up their gear and left hurriedly as we suddenly realised we might not make it home at all.

When we left Otane a couple of houses on State Highway 2 were surrounded by flood water. On entering Waipawa we had to drive through quite deep water to get to the shopping centre. A policeman was redirecting traffic down an alternative route and we stopped to ask him if the Tikokino Road was open and he replied that last he heard it was. After a quick shop we left the town and headed out into the countryside. It was amazing how quickly the water had spread. There were new waterfalls cascading out over paddocks, the river was about to burst its banks and in several areas the water was across the tar seal and we had to drive on the wrong side of the road. The most distressing part was seeing all the new born lambs lying dead in the fields. At one farm a pile of small woolly corpses had been left at the gate for the slinky man.

I was not looking forward to seeing to everyone- especially when I saw several mini lakes formed on the grass at the front of my place. It was as bad behind the house with three ponds on the path to the hen shed with one deep one right in front of the door. When I opened this the concrete floor was flooded and the hens all sitting on their perches. However by the next morning all the water had soaked away.


Hoggle has doubled in size since this photo of him (aged 48 hours) was taken. He has taken to squeezing himself out through the gap between the gate and the fence so that he can munch on the garden. Xena runs around crying out for him while he gets up to mischief.

Gretel though is the naughtiest goat in the herd. She has discovered that she can jump any fence on the farm and delights in going out exploring. If I growl at her she jumps back to where she should be. However she knows that if she walks up to me and lays her head on my knee, looking up with her big yellow/black eyes I am more likely to scratch her head and give her a cuddle so I am definitely sending mixed messages when I should in fact be sending her to sit on the naughty step!

New Goats Learning New Tricks

Gypsy decided to wake me up at 3am this morning. She began by wailing like a banshee and walking up anything she thought resembled a sleeping human. When this didn't get me out of bed she jumped up onto the dressing table hoping that any tinkling and smashing sounds as she knocked everything sideways would do the trick. Who needs an alarm clock when you have a hungry cat...

The hairy foursome are going from strength to strength. Xena has proved to be an exceptional mother who is prone to headbutting any creature that comes within two feet of her baby including cats, dogs and chickens. For some reason I am allowed to pick him up for cuddles and since she is no longer a lady in waiting I am also allowed to pat Xena and even touch her stomach without getting gored which is always a good thing.

There have been a steady stream of visitors to see the baby. When he was two days old Glenys came with her digital camera and although the others ran and hid under the trees I managed to grab the boy and he posed sleepily for photos on my knee. At seven days Gay and Gine got to hold him which apparently didn't faze him one little bit as he followed behind us later bleating. Typical male- he loved the attention.

I have taken several photos but the weather became so foul over the weekend I was unable to get more as I had hoped. I shifted everyone to the orchard field as there is shelter there but Xena marched beneath the trees and stood there stubbornly as the rain pelted down. After a freezing cold Saturday where the temperature never reached above 4oC I had a restless night imagining a dead wet kid lying abandoned because his mother was too stubborn to seek shelter. The next morning when I went to check on them Heidi and Gretel were balancing delicately on the firewood in the shed. I called out to Xena and a big head and a smaller one appeared round the corner of an abandoned dog kennel. One thing I did learn- all the goats have hair that curls in the rain. The baby looked positively permed.

Gretel is proving a jumper. She jumps over the fences into the sheep paddocks, she jumps over gates, amd today she learned she could lean on my girlie fence and jump over that too. This means she can go anywhere she chooses. However the herding instinct is so strong with Gretel that her breaks for freedom are short as she soon wants to get back to the others.

Oh and today I finally came up with a name for the kid. He is called Hoggle.

Kiddy Talk

At first light I headed out to check how the goats had coped with sleeping in a different place. Gretel and Heidi ran up to say hello and then Xena appeared as well to check for goodies. I discovered the kid cuddled up under a tree branch, obviously asleep although when it woke and realised Mum had disappeared there was much maaing and wailing.

Cold temperature and rain were forecast for the afternoon so at 11am I headed out to collect kindling from under the big macrocarpa tree out the front. I then loaded the wheelbarrow with firewood and about burst my foo foo valve trying to get it up on the front verandah. I then tried to get under the ripped chicken netting of the old veggie garden enclosure out back in order to reach the kid. My plan was to carry it to the small orchard paddock next to the old wash house where there are old dog kennels and a woodshed where Xena and her goatling could shelter when the rain started. Rain is one of the biggest killers of new born animals, especially lambs and kids. I made my way between rusty netting and an ancient grape vine that was hanging all over the place but at the last moment the kid stood up and wandered off.

I collected some pellets and then made my way behind the chook shed, dodging the low tree branches and several old stumps. Xena was up for more feed and the kid began to wail and cry when it was left alone. It decided to come up to investigate me so I quietly picked it up and slowly made my way back to the orchard. Xena followed closely, bleating in response to her baby's calls. There was a massive and emotional reunion when I put the kid on the ground plus Xena butted Gretel and Heidi for good measure.

Late afternoon it began to rain so I went out again to check on the girls. This time I was able to pick the kid up and give it a good old cuddle while Mum snatched a late lunch. I feel honoured that Xena is so trusting of me and allows me to handle her baby whereas everyone else is headbutted if they get within ten feet of her. At one point today I looked out the window to see a terrified Kit Cat racing through the paddock with one angry nanny just a couple of feet behind.

I am so relieved I have finally finished one of my pressing tasks when I finally finished pruning all the (eight) roses earlier this week. They hadn't been pruned in many years so it was quite a task to wrestle them into shape, especially the old bush in front of the original wash house out the back. This turned out to be lethal with both large and small thorns that caught me unawares. My hands look as if I was involved in a major cat fight.

Also I weeded the veggie garden and planted nine spinach and nine broccoli plants. As there are so many wandering chooks, rabbits and other livestock here I had to put more bottomless cages over them. You can tell this garden belongs to an animal lover as the plants are caged and the pets roam free.

Pitter Patter Of Little Feet

The past few days I've noticed Xena Warrior Goat has become rounder and rounder and her udder hanging lower and lower. This morning she wasn't standing near the front fence as she usually does and she didn't run over to meet me when I opened the gate to her paddock but I managed to entice her out with some pellets and shut her and the two others in the hen house field for the day.

On arriving home from Otane in the mid afternoon I busied myself lighting the fire and feeding the bunnies before I headed out to see what the goats were up to. Gretel and Heidi were waiting by the fence but there was no sign of Xena. However when I went to feed the chooks I saw a flash of white under the macrocarpa shelter belt and there she was with a little kid drinking from her.

I was sooo excited that I rushed to put the others into the orchard field and took Xena some pellets to entice her out. I didn't need to however as she brought her new offspring over to say hello. The baby was wobbly on its feet and still wet so obviously only newly born but it bravely came towards me and allowed me to touch its tiny face. On dark I went out again to check on mother and child and had to make my way through the undergrowth and under the trees to find them. Xena got up and wandered over and her kid began bleating before walking over to me and saying hello again. Once again I was allowed to touch it without Xena becoming aggressive which was so thrilling considering how wild she was just a few weeks ago (the photo to the left shows Xena, Gretel and Heidi their first day here). She is such a proud Mum, licking the baby constantly and standing patiently while it suckles.

Since then I have been on the phone ringing my friends and leaving messages for those I can't contact to tell them I'm a proud grandmother.

Mad Cow, Widget and the Escaping Kids

I have seen snow falling for the first time in my life. Saturday morning I went out early to feed the chooks with Mishka and Kit Cat when little flakes of ice began falling and settling onto their long coats. It wasn't terribly cold but even so I rushed back inside in time to see a whole lot of white stuff begin falling. Mesmerised I spent most of the morning peering through the kitchen and dining room windows at this sea of flakes drifting down around the house. Very excited I rang a friend in order to tell her that it was snowing at Tikokino and "it looks just like it does on TV!" After all the drama nothing settled on the lawn but snow lay on the foothills for most of the week.

Gine helped me with hanging the rest of the curtains in the dining room and already I can feel that it's much cosier in there now the heat isn't escaping out of the windows. The cats are miffed though that they can no longer sit staring out into the night pulling faces at any rabbits that might be passing by.

The biggest excitement of the week however was yesterday morning when Andrew decided to move some steers out of the paddock next door. One recalcitrant individual decided to make a break for freedom and ran in the opposite direction along the stock route with one naughty donkey in pursuit. Next thing it came running back with Andrew behind and one worried donkey in pursuit. The steer decided it wasn't going anywhere it didn't want to and leapt the back fence into my yard. Next it jumped over my temporary "girlie" fence into the hen house area. Andrew also jumped the fence and I heard some noise, a clatter, some metal clanging, and then the steer running around the house and past the dining room window. A minute later Andrew casually wandered past the same way with a wave, a grin and a "Hi Jen".

Also Widget Rooster disappeared. Two days ago he was looking a bit dishevelled and discombobulated and that was the last I saw of him. He was an old cockeral so he may have just gone the same way as Artemis and Suki. Locals are saying this is one of the coldest winters in the area for many years so it's going to take casualties I suppose.

When I arrived home after portrait class today I couldn't see the goats at all. When I went to let the chooks out for a scratch Xena Warrior Goat was standing by the house looking concerned. Next I heard a desperate "Maaaaah" and saw that Gretel and Heidi had managed to get themselves over the fence into the shelter belt area. I couldn't get them over the barbed wire so went into the orchard field and pulled John's cleverly constructed goat proof fence down only to find that Gretel had managed to squeeze back under the side fence and was now dancing around on the top of the netting in the grape area. Heidi who is too small and too naive to plan such naughtiness came towards me fence I had lowered and ran into the woodshed in relief. It wasn't too long before the others joined her although only after I had bribed them with some pellets. By the time I got inside I was in great need of a cuppa.

Artemis Fowl

I love the brown shaver breed of hen as they're such friendly souls. When friends bought several pullets from a poultry farm many years ago I took four of these to add to my flock. Over time one by one they went to the big hen house in the sky except one very determined chook I named Artemis Fowl. The friendliest of the four she would follow me everywhere, even inside the house on occasion. Even if she saw me in the driveway she would frantically run up and down the fence in a panic that she might be missing out on something important.

Recently Artemis had become even more affectionate, allowing me to pick her up and tuck her under my arm while she talked to me and pecked at her reflection in my sunglasses. She also began making long treks into the paddocks along with the young chooklettes to see what she could scavenge.

This afternoon I let the chooks out mid afternoon for a brief run as it was so cold and windy. After an hour they asked to be put to bed but Artemis was nowhere to be found. I whistled her (all my animals come to the whistle) and called her name but there was no sign of her brown form wobbling towards me. However when I went into the hen house to pour out the mash I saw her curled up asleep in a nest box. But when I touched her feathers they were cold and I realised Artemis had died in her sleep.

I knew she was very very old (nearly ten I think) but there was no sign of her slowing down. However this is exactly the way to go, no illness or trauma but just an old hen peacefully drifting off to sleep.

Girlie Farming

This morning Marg and John arrived out in their ute with some very welcome firewood from one of their trees. They also brought along a chainsaw and John went out into Briar's paddock and began cutting up pine branches that had been piled in the middle years ago and which now had blackberry entwined throughout it. He got a fair amount of wood cut before lunch. Marg carried all of it across and threw it over the fence while I loaded the wheelbarrow. Andrew the farm manager wandered over while this was going on and suggested that there was some better wood to cut up out the front of my place under some trees before offering some old totara fence battens that were only going to waste and would make good kindling.

After lunch John did a bit more woodcutting but suggested he needed to return in a fortnight with a smaller chainsaw which wasn't so heavy and hard on his joints. Although he was in pain he did find some amusement in how I organise things round here. The highlight of his day seemed to be when he laid eyes on the temporary fence that I had erected along the back to keep the goats in around the hen house. After he'd stopped laughing he found some of my electric fence standards and stabilised the wire netting a bit more. Honestly you'd have thought no one had ever seen a fence held up by large garden forks with bows tied on the top before!

Catnip Controversy

My cats have their own collection of toys stored in the "round house" a disused carpet-clad-sleeping-hideyhole-come-scratching post which was given to me after someone's cat died. My girls never use it so instead I keep their toys there. The only problem is that they never play with them, preferring instead the simple joys of batting pieces of kitty litter about the kitchen. Demelza's other game is stealing whatever items of mine she can lay her paws on. Just this week I found one of my heart pills underneath a mat where she'd stashed it.

However this week Demelza rediscovered a moth eaten catnip mouse that belonged to my sister's cat for the couple of years she deigned to live with me. The first I knew about it was when I unexpectedly put my foot on something wet and white and nearly went through the roof. Later that evening I saw Demelza carrying the same poor hairy lump around the kitchen before she batted it into submission.

For two hours each evening she plays with it, one night she even woke me up at 3am playing mouse hockey. But then Peaches decided to get into the act and began stealing the mouse. Then Kit began taking an interest. Now we have no peace at all as cat wars over the nip mouse has broken out in the dining room.

To escape the silliness I go outside and talk to the goats. They have eaten down the orchard paddock and as I still haven't got a fence across the field at the back every day I let them out and they feed on the blackberry and long grass. The first time I was concerned that I'd never get them back, especially after all the shennanigans I had with Xena Warrior Goat when she first arrived. However I discovered that she follows me if I go out of view and that all I need to do is hold a maragarine container in my hand and she'll come running. Well she does associate it with goat pellets so I always make sure I have a few to coax her back into her field. Gretel and Heidi are never too far behind.

Suki

One of my favourite hens died this morning. I was expecting it as Suki had been slowing down the past few days and although still eating was looking a bit wobbly. Well she was twelve years old so it wasn't surprising. I've been searching for photos of her but none were really good- it was difficult to get a close up shot as she was always so busy scratching and generally doing chook things. However her speckled gene has passed down the line and hopefully will continue to pop out in the occasion descendant.

Suki had three lots of chicks over the years. The first family was when she was only five months old which either makes her precocious or else a total slut. However she proved an excellent Mum and when she hatched another clutch six months later she did another great job. Her last time was several years ago and although she would periodically go broody she never stayed on the next long enough for her eggs to amount to anything. I will miss her as will her Mum "Peanut" who will be fourteen years old in November this year.

It's been a dreary wet day and everyone is miserable outside. Briar has hung her head and barely eaten while the goats stood shivering in the woodshed. I only went outside twice to feed everyone and bury Suki in the garden.

On a positive note though I finally received my loom last week. The friend who had collected it from Helensville had kept it at her place in Auckland until her brother and mother visited and they brought it back to Napier. My brother then delivered it last week. It came with a great collection of hammers and pieces of wood which I have no idea what to do with. It sits in state on a table in the dining room and Kit Cat curls up in it as decoration. Now I just have to learn how to use it.

Noodle's Sunday Afternoon Ramble

It was a stunning golden day today so after lunch I decided to take my camera and get a few photos of the beautiful trees along the side of the road with the sun shining through their leaves. When Mishka and I were halfway along the drive I happened to glance back and saw Noodle Rooster running after us. I thought he'd give up by the time we reached the cattle stop but he kept following even when I made it up to the road (and the drive from my place is about a quarter of a mile long so that's some way to go for a fowl).

I made it along the middle of the road without meeting any traffic and got some fantastic shots of the sun filtering through the trees and blazing on the creamy plumes of the toi toi bushes. By the time I returned to the cattle stop I was sure Noodle would have run home but he was waiting patiently for us under a tree near the gate. He then ran behind us all the way home again. Now that's devotion!

The Great Escape Attempt

The new farm manager came in to introduce himself last Monday afternoon while walking his dog and his baby daughter in a stroller. He said to give him a ring if I needed any help and he would try to get over inbetween farm work. I was so surprised at his kind offer that after he left I realised that I couldn't remember his name although his dog was called Peanut. Probably gives a good idea where my priorities usually lie.

I didn't realise how soon I would need his help but on arriving home late after painting group and visiting a sick friend on Wednesday I discovered that Xena Warrior Goat had gone beneath the old wash house and managed to wind her rope tether round a wooden pile. I sat on the muddy ground and tried to reach her only to get head butted for my trouble. Grabbing a garden fork I tried to pull the rope near me so I could untangle it but this caused Xena to pull further underneath the building. I finally tried to cut the rope with a pair of loppers but couldn't get the blades round it. Finally in desperation at 5.45pm I rang the farm manager's house.

The phone was answered by his wife Charlotte who on hearing my predicament said she would be right over once she'd settled the baby down for a sleep. A few minutes later she arrived with Peanut the dog, her two and a half year old daughter Georgia and a baby monitor. By this time it was completely dark but we both had torches so Charlotte was able to see the nanny clearly but couldn't reach over to untangle her. A rusty old fridge was blocking the way so she tipped out of the way and tried to crawl under the shed but Xena felt threatened and tried to butt her. Realising that girl power just wasn't going to cut it this time Charlotte said she'd send Andrew over after he'd finished feeding the farm dogs.

It was after 6pm by this time and very cold. I shut Mishka inside and collected a rose branch and some pellets and fed these to Xena. She was starving but as she was in a bit of an IRM (Intensely Ratty Mood) she tried to gore my hands after she'd finished eating.

In the darkness I saw a torch coming towards the orchard as Andrew, his little girl and Peanut came to the rescue. He lay in the dirt and untangled the rope before dragging one very angry nanny out. Taking no nonsense from her he told me to pat her before tying her to a dog kennel further along the orchard. Fortunately for me he loves goats having just come off a farm in Wairoa where they were raising them for the Middle East market. Grabbing Xena he shone a torch in her mouth and told me she was probably at least four years old and not the youngster we'd been told she was which accounts for her cunning and stubborness I guess.

When I came back inside the house was freezing cold and although I lit the fire it didn't warm up before I went to bed a few hours later. I spent the evening trying to work out why I like goats. The next morning I cautiously checked outside and saw Xena was still tied up with Gretel and Heidi beside her.

A big breakthrough though came on Friday when I put some pellets in my hand and both Xena and Gretel ate from it. Yesterday Xena managed to get off her rope but when she saw me she came up immediately and again was happy to hand feed. Gretel also loves to sniff for treats and runs up to me when I go to the gate. After just three weeks I think this is a major step forward.


Meanwhile the weather gets colder and colder. There is snow on the ranges, not a bit unlike my painting to the left. I have come to the realisation that my kent log fire may need art lessons- it's not drawing properly. I spend quite a bit of the day on my knees blowing ash all over the place as I try to get it to catch. Roll on Spring.

Charlotte Lovers Beware!

Anyone who knows me well can state with certainty that I'm not very good with creepy crawlies. At primary school my nickname was "Daddy Long Legs" due to my arachnophobia heightened by the stories my mother told me of the giant spiders who lived in our woodshed in the back yard and the ones that came out at night from under my bed at my grandparent's old house and apparently ran over my face while I was asleep.

I have been really good lately. I don't scream when I'm divebombed by anything leggy falling from the ceiling. I even managed to go past an eight inch long stick insect that has taken up residence in an old rose bush out the front the other day. However a few mornings ago my heart almost stopped when I went into the loo and saw the mother of all spiders lying in wait near the door. I do not exaggerate so when I say that its body was a good 1 cm in length and its legs 8 cms in diametre you can be pretty certain that this was no ordinary breed of spider but a mutant strain sent to exterminate mankind. I rushed for the fly spray and let rip till it was iced white but the monster just sat there and did nothing but stare up at me with all eight beady little eyes. I then took a rolled up newspaper and bashed the living daylights out of it until it rolled up in self defence and limped away under the outside door.

When I told my friend John about this he was incredibly shocked that I could do such a thing since I say I'm an animal lover. I did tell him that I wished it a happy rebirth but he remained pretty appalled and told me that I've probably killed the last of a rare strain of NZ native arachnae. I ended up feeling so guilty that I realised that instead I should have carried it outside to the woodshed and provided it was a nice new cobweb and a friendly talking pig as a companion.......

Goat Wrangling

The first morning of the goats' arrival I was worried how they survived the night. The kids were hidden beneath the eastern shelter belt while Xena Warrior Doe had wandered back and was watching them through the fence at the front of my place before disappearing when she saw me. My landlord called in just after 8am to say he'd found her near the woolshed and corralled her in a small field until they could bring her back to me as she was a "bit frisky" (ie. stubborn and pig headed). I had to head out to a workshop in Hastings so didn't see the performance when they mustered her into a holding paddock next to me. I went in hopefully near dusk armed with a horse halter and long rope but ended up watching a white goat boinging into the distance followed by one mad sheep who was with her. At one point I actually cornered the goat up on a pile of fence posts and tentatively moved towards her during the next 30 minutes while she looked from me to the sheep trying to decide who would be the better company. The sheep won.

When I got home late Tuesday there was a message from my landlord saying that if I needed help catching the goat to give him a call. I was too shattered to do anything that day so waited until Wednesday when I managed to get in touch with the landlord's son who promised to help one frazzled damsel in distress. Late afternoon I went out to see two shepherds laughing with one straddling an irate nanny. While they held her I put on a stronger leather collar which my friend's rottweiller had outgrown and tied a rope securely to this. When they released her the doe bounded away with two shepherds in hot pursuit before one held her and walked her towards the woodshed, tying her firmly to a warratah so that she couldn't escape.

Next morning I found the kids out feeding on the long grass in the orchard while the nanny made a determined effort to strangle herself when she saw me. I went out a couple more times that day and sat quietly nearby while the nanny stood atop the pile of wood in the shed giving me the evil eye. The kids couldn't make up their minds what to do so stood stock still with long grass hanging out of their mouths. I took apples and bread for them but these were left untouched for the chickens to finish as apparently my reputation as a goat poisoner had preceded me. Now I just have to convince them I am actually a goat whisperer.

"You've Got Goats"

John had a look at some angora x goats I'd found on Trademe a couple of weeks ago but had to wait for the owner to round them up so he could collect a couple for me. He and Marg arrived here just after lunch with three girls in a sheep grate on a trailer. There was an older female of a year old with two smaller kids. They looked so much like Toby it hurt.

As they hadn't had a great deal of contact with humans they were somewhat wary but I put my hand in through the wire netting so they could get my scent before going to "help" John and Marg fix my front fence which was definitely not goat proof. John painfully snipped wires off a 100 year old post covered with lichen that had broken off at the bottom. There was a newer corner post alongside this (probably only a mere 50 years old) so he secured the wire onto this. We then went round the back of the wash shed where I'd found a very rickety old gate from early last century. We rehung this near the woodshed which Marg informed me would have originally been a cow bail where the house cow was milked.

There was also a gap along the boundary fence so John constructed a blockade there with cage wire and more old wood to stop the goats getting down to the hen house. All this was designed so that I could keep them confined in a small area in order to tame them down.

After a cup of tea and a chat inside Marg leapt up into the trailer and grabbed a kid which John sat on my knee so he could dose it and put a blue Snoopy collar on. The next kid was slightly larger so he grappled with it and we then took them along to the now secure small apple orchard next to the house and let them go. They both boinged their way over the grass and hid behind the woodshed.

The larger doe was lying down on the trailer and looking decidedly put out. John dosed and collared her like the others and then let her go as well. As he and Marg proceeded to empty out some firewood they'd brought for me I tried to see what the goats were doing. The older female had spied some sheep next door and ran to the boundary fence under the shelter belt. I then heard a sharp "twang" but couldn't see what had happened although I could half spy the two kids looking wistfully through the fence. I went round the front into the field next door in time to see the doe galloping like mad from my place towards the sheep. Mishka and I tried to round her up but she rushed past me along the front of my place before disappearing beneath some trees. I spent the next half hour wandering down amongst the farm buildings trying to find the she devil but there was no sign of her.

By the time I got back to the house it was getting cold and dark and Marg and John were preparing to drive back to Napier. John did make the suggestion that if I can't get her tamed down he would bring a rifle next visit. I went inside and rang my landlord and he has promised to get the doe mustered tomorrow. Then I will have to tie her up so that she doesn't make another break for freedom before I can make friends with her. One thing about owning goats- it's never boring!

Gardening Amongst The Icicles

I remembered this week why I don't like winter. Cold rain and heavy frosts being two of the main reasons. After going out two days running in freezing rain at the beginning of the week I was relieved to be able to stay home huddled by the fire on Wednesday as we suffered one of the heaviest frosts we've had so far this winter. Now we're in the middle of a torrential downpour with more forecast to come over the weekend. Mishka and Demelza are cuddled up together in front of the fire, Peaches is asleep on a cushion in the dining room while Gypsy sleeps on a wheatpack in the sitting room with Kit curled up on an armchair.

I have been trying to get some plants in before the worst of the weather hits. The old sandpit in the middle of the lawn is now a veggie garden but because the hens are still not contained I have had to go to drastic measures to protect my plants. I have put three bottomless wire cages and shadecloth over the Queen Violet broccoli, gourmet lettuce and coloured silverbeet I've planted for the Spring. So far they've survived.

My sister in law has also given me a few cuttings from her garden. Three pink Marguerite daisies in a pot plus several varieties of different succulent plants. I plonked four of these in the dry garden by the front gate. They look quite good by the large rocks someone had arranged there years ago. This part of the garden runs along the east side of the property and is pretty much barren due to two large trees and a baby Cabbage tree which must suck all the goodness out of the soil. I have tried to mulch the soil but the chooks keep getting in there and chucking it out onto the driveway.

Big excitement today though was running into Gay in Waipawa on the way home from my portraiture class and learning that Rachel has been talking to our new mailman and he is going to bring my mail down to the house rather than my having to make my ten minute trip up to the road to collect it. I am so relieved as that daily trip was a bit much for me, especially if I had been out and was tired. Rural contractors are often very caring people and helpful to country residents, even bringing shopping to them from town. I still miss the guy I had at Craggy Range Road as he would even bring my mail to the back door if it was raining! Talk about great service.

Cat On A Hot Wheatpack

Cats are definitely opportunists and they do tend to look after number one. Especially when it comes to keeping warm. Demelza follows the sun round all day, first sitting in the front door before venturing out on the verandah into the morning warmth. She then goes into the garden and works her way around the house as the sun moves towards the back.
Gypsy however is a great fan of technology. As a youngster she used to curl up asleep on the computer monitor. In winter she wakes me up in the early hours wailing until I let her crawl into bed so she can benefit from the effects of the electric blanket. However now she has discovered my wheatpacks. I leave them discarded on the sofa for just a minute so I can either get a drink or make a pit stop, only to come back and find Gypsy neatly enscounced on top of them. As to all appearances she seems to have suddenly fallen into a deep sleep from which it would be downright cruel to wake her I have to wait until she gets up before I can retrieve them. One thing I do know- she's not only toasty warm but she won't have a painful bone in her body!

Sunday Afternoon Scare

There is much more bird life here than at the last cottage. The other day I saw four fantails sitting on my front fence and four tuis flew up and sat in the macrocarpa shelter belt to the right of the house. Fortunately my cats are too lazy to take advantage of this avian abundance.

However the brutal reality of country life is never very far away. Yesterday afternoon two women knocked at the door saying that a dog was chasing sheep in a paddock near the road. I told them to go to the farm manager's house but it turned out he wasn't there. Two more people had got out of the car by this time and we all went round the hedge to the paddock in time to see a heading dog rounding the flock into the corner. Three sheep were already down, one covered with blood and its legs twitching. I showed the women where the gate was and one went and grabbed the dog by its collar. It was then that I realised it belonged to Irenie, the 88 year old lady who works here on the farm.

I told them that I would find some rope to tie it up but before I could do this Irenie pulled up on her four wheeler motorbike and called the dog who jumped up behind her. One of the ladies managed to lift two sheep back up on their feet and get them back to the flock. The bleeding ewe had to have its throat cut.

You're never very far away from death when you live amongst animals. I think to cope it's a matter of just enjoying the moment and trying not to worry about what may or may not happen tomorrow. I wish I could tell Briar that. She has made up her mind that Tobermory has gone back to the old place and spends alot of her time standing by the back fence looking over there and braying. I must remember to go out and bribe her with carrots tomorrow to try and get back in her good graces.

Tobermory

I've been offline for five days since my nine year old computer finally expired. It had been having a few hissy fits since I moved here, not turning on in the morning usually. This time there was no response to me unplugging it or jiggling its ram and other wiggly bits accompanied by brutal swearing. As usual I was rescued by my brother who bought a computer from Trademe for $50. He brought this out on Wednesday and six hours and nine cigarettes later had it up and running. It's slightly faster than my old girl but I have no idea how long it will last so fingers crossed. Note: when Rich took my old machine home and plugged it in it turned on immediately....


Tobermory has been slowly going downhill this past week. I have had to pull him upright on several occasions even having to make a half hour trek to find him amongst some cabbage trees at the end of the paddock, leading him home with a "I Love My German Shepherd" leash attached to his collar much to the amusement of the farm staff.

This morning he was lying down again but when I tried to help him stand there was no strength in his legs. His breathing was laboured and even his appetite had gone (he even refused a strawberry jam sandwich which is his favourite treat). I rang the farm manager who came over, looked at him and gave me the news I was dreading- that Toby had reached the end of the road. He brought over a trailer and loaded him into it after I said goodbye, taking him away so I wouldn't hear the sound of the shot. He is now buried in the farm cemetary alongside a loved horse and various sheep dogs.

Briar has been inconsolable. She hasn't eaten, she wanders around braying looking for him. Other times she stands by his little house with her head down. I have spoken to a farming friend who is going to try and find another companion or two for her to bond with. As for me I have cried myself into a massive headache. Toby had a long life (he would have turned seventeen in September) and he saw me through some great trials and difficult moments. He was one of the greatest animal characters I ever met and he will be missed.

Hooray Hodgie

There was a death today. However it wasn't the one I was expecting as for the past couple of weeks Tobermory goat has been having trouble getting up. A week ago I looked out early morning and could not see him in the paddock. When I got out there I saw a white lump in the grass and immediately thought he'd died during the night. However he'd just laid down and couldn't get up again. Signs of his struggle were obvious as he had crushed the grass down in a circle around him.

Although not as bulky as he once was Toby still was quite a weight to lift and it took me several attempts to get him upright. When I tried to lead him however he fell and I realised that his back legs had gone to sleep. I stood him up once more and tried to massage these but after a kick was aimed in my direction decided to let him take matters at his own pace.

A couple of hours later he was still standing there but the sun thawed him out and he wandered down the paddock and stood beneath some pine trees. Later that day I gave him some pellets and a carrot and prayed he'd be alright the next morning. The following day he was lying beneath the trees but was not such a problem to lift this time. I put him back on his three disprin a day routine to help ease his arthritis. Never have a problem dosing him as I hide the pills in strawberry jam on wheatmeal bread and it's gobbled down in one piece. Next day I noticed Toby was able to get up on his own and although he hasn't done so since he is still much better than a week ago.

The death that came this afternoon was another old animal but one who had showed no signs of slowing down. Hodgie hedgehog had been slighty off his food the past couple of days which I attributed to the cooling weather which was putting him into early hibernation. When I went to clean out his cage this afternoon however I was appalled to see he'd died while trying to stand up to say hello. I can only assume he had a heart attack. Even so he looked very peaceful and for an animal of well over five years he was in pretty good condition. He will be missed.

Heat Seeking Chooks and The Big Mouse Massacre

Where have the weeks gone? Already I have nearly been here one month and very little blog writing done. I feel guilty doing creative things when so much mess is sitting around but I have unpacked as many boxes as I'm ever going to and am now trying to find interesting and unobtrusive places to hide the remainder. As my linen cupboard is twice the size as at the previous place I have managed to cram a myriad of bags containing different fleeces amongst the sheets and towels. The spare bed is nearly lifting off the floor with boxes of S.T.U.F.F.-Several Totally Useless Fluff Farms- jammed beneath to be left until the next move.

We are also three chickens up with Franz's "wife" Sarah and his two offspring arriving just over two weeks ago before their previous owners left New Zealand to live in Switzerland. Sarah is a pale grey fluffy bantam of as yet unknown breed with an identical son and a fluffy white daughter. We got off to a rocky start when the white pullet managed to squeeze out of a hole in the hen house the first morning here. I had to sit outside in the pouring rain for 45 minutes until she came close enough for me to catch. Then her sibling made a break for it at lunchtime so I just opened the house and left everyone to it. When I went to feed them in the late afternoon Sarah was sitting in a corner of the house with a baby under each wing so I didn't have to do a big round up.

Rounding up the chooks to put them to bed is not such a hassle as it was at the cottage. In fact half the time the fowls come looking for me for they're still able to roam about the homestead as there is no back fence. Recently I was surprised while talking on the phone in the kitchen when mother hen and her five nearly grown chicks appeared at the doorway before making a beeline for the bathroom where they made a couple of deposits. The rule with chickens as with most livestock is- never rush or frighten an animal if you don't want to have to clean up after them. I put on an insincere welcoming tone before encouraging them out the bathroom, along the hall and out onto the veranda. After that they followed me onto the lawn, around the house, along the backyard, through the long grass to the chook mansion where I hurriedly shut them in. However after mulling the experience for a while I realised that I may have a potential goldmine in my poultry. Perhaps they could replace the pukekos in the next energy conservation TV advertisement. After all they love working indoors.


My main problem since arriving has been the mice. After having the cupboards and drawers cleaned out for me on moving day I have watched in horror as many and varied black droppings have mysteriously appeared overnight. And what's worse is the culprit turned out to be a chocoholic and gnawed through a brand new packet of chocolate biscuits before guzzling three! One night as I turned off the kitchen light before going to bed I heard a wicked squeaky giggling from the wall where I assume the mice were having their chocolate biscuit supper while watching a Danger Mouse DVD. In disgust I left all the cupboards open during the night and miraculously a week ago Gypsy caught said mouse thief before demolishing it in the bathroom watched by Peaches (pictured napping in the kitchen window).

I thought this was the end of the matter but no. Glenys had put my opened boxes of cat biscuits in a wooden bin thinking that this would be mouse proof. Last Friday I put the cats' dishes on my knee and began to pour biscats into them only to have one surprised grey mouse fall out into my lap! I yelled which frightened Jerry (well he looked like a Jerry) who jumped onto the floor before running under Mishka. Mish being a sheepdog didn't know whether he should guard the mouse or try to round it up. The mouse realising its mistake made a dash underneath the fridge while three cats were casually looking in every direction but the one they should have.

I had a nervous night thinking about vermin wandering round the house. At 2am Gypsy woke me standing looking down behind the glory box. I shone a torch there but could only see two little signs Jerry had been there- literally. Next morning Demelza was sitting in the bathroom gazing vacantly at the corner of the room as she's prone to do before neatly hooking her paw under the floor and pulling out the mouse. Being a good girl when I yelled "Take him outside" she ran out to the veranda and swiftly dispatched him to the great mouse hole in the sky. This totally disproves my friend John's assertion that my cats are only useful as decoration.

On The Road Again

Well the big shift is over- almost. Saturday the 15th Gine and Gay arrived early in the morning and packed up all the high kitchen cupboards for me and began moving breakables over to the new place. Diane and Richard then arrived and began shifting my spare wire cages out of the paddock. Then Stu came up from Palmerston North to measure up for the front ramp and to help with the hen house. Finally Rachel, her husband and two children appeared and between them and Gareth moved all my firewood over and stacked it in the woodshed. Nearly everyone left at midday so Stu, Di and Rich and I went back to the cottage for lunch which consisted of hot cross buns.

Mid afternoon we returned to Kainui to have a look where we'd shift the hen house to. However on investigating the existing one on the property (complete with concrete floor, nesting boxes and perches) we decided to repair this instead. All afternoon Rich and Stu worked on fixing the roof which they did with a couple of sheets of corrugated iron they found on the property. Meanwhile I was so tired I lay on the sofa that Gay had given me in the dining room.

Late afternoon we collected the fowls. Catching 27 wayward chickens is no fun. I thought the most difficult would be the little bantam rooster who has been roaming wild since the hens kicked him out but he was the first one I caught. We then piled the rest of the birds into a bank of cages and took them for a ride on the back of a trailer before installing them into their new house. Fortunately we discovered a tap right next to where they were to live- fortunately because there doesn't appear to be one outside tap near the house which makes watering the garden difficult.

I did manage to get some sleep Saturday night before getting up early to do last minute packing and to see to the animals. We had emptied out the spare bedroom and I put the cats in this with a bed, litter tray, water and food and three new baby angora rabbits who'd arrived Friday night. A sign saying to keep out was stuck to the door.

At 9am the first people arrived to help- an elderly couple from Tikokino known to Gine. Then Gay, her sister Chris and son Gareth arrived, Marie, Martina and Glenys from art along with Gleny's husband Arthur, Pat and Alec (Gleny's neighbours) Diane and Rich and finally my friends Marg and John. All in all five trailers were used to shift my worldy possessions. As usual I watched in horror as the pianola was wheeled out but tried to keep my mind off it by helping Martina pack up the last of the kitchen crockery while Glenys, Marie and the other ladies cleared out the last of the kitchen cupboards.

By late morning we were at the homestead and I sat by the hallway trying my best to direct people with boxes and furniture. The yellow room at the front took the worst beating and is so full we couldn't get the hutch dresser into it and this is still sitting in the middle of the dining room. Marie and Gleny had provided quiches, fruit and lemon muffins for a beautiful lunch and we all ate these sitting on the verandah. I had to have several lie downs on the sofa which had been moved into the small sitting room at the front as people kept telling me I looked terrible (what's new?) and admittedly I was beginning to feel worn out.

After lunch the first people began to leave so Rich, John, Gareth and I went back to the cottage to do the big donkey/goat shift. It took three of us to push Briar out the gate into the back yard, then we had to encourage her down the drive and onto the road by tugging at her halter. Once we got on the gravel she began to move more easily and even managed to keep her cool when a car came towards up. I imperiously held up my hand to stop them which only made the driver grin and wave back. Gareth suggested we take a short cut into the stock route into the field behind my place. Soon as he opened the gate into this Briar lept forward and it was all I could do to keep up with her.

Meanwhile Tobermory led like a little lamb for Richard who then sat on a trailer with him while John drove at 2kms per hour along the road to the new place. Apparently this has caused great amusement amongst my new neighbours and there have been suggestions it would have made a great video movie. Both animals settled in well to their new home and were munching on thistle heads when I next saw them.

After the big excitement everyone left except Diane and Richard but then Stu arrived to help move the ramp from the old place. While they were taking this to bits I went and comforted the cats who were hiding in the wardrobe. It took till 7pm to get this installed at the new place and then Rich and I were in a rush to move the bunnies before it got dark. We had to make three trips back to the old place and would cage up a few bunnies, put them in the car while Rich struggled to remove the wire cages from the garage in just the glare of the headlights. Fortunately there is electricity in the new shed and by the time we returned Diane would have finished putting sawdust down on the polythene I'd laid beneath the cages.

The last trip we collected the cats as well and finally finished outside at 10.30pm. By this time Rich's emphysema was so bad he could barely breathe. He was so worried as we still hadn't connected the TV, the washing machine or lowered the washing line but we were all too tired to do anything more. They both knew they wouldn't be back here for a week and a half as they were going away before Easter and so Rich made one last call on his reserves to fix my computer which wouldn't turn on. Turned out the ram was loose but I reminded him it is tupping time so no wonder. Fortunately a quick jiggle fixed the problem!

I got to bed after midnight and slept till 6am. My first thoughts on going out in the kitchen were "what a mess" and "where is the plastic shovel for the litter boxes?" Gine popped in just after 8am before heading next door to clean the old place and then Gay came for the day and cleaned out the last of the mouse dung from the kitchen cupboards here and helped me put some more kitchenware away. She also dampened a broom and got rid of all the cobwebs.

Tuesday morning I slept but after lunch went along the road returning some more of my previous landlady's belongings that had found their way here. I spent nearly two hours cleaning out the garage and found some more of my stuff that had never been brought over which I piled in front of the shed. My own hen house is still there as well so hopefully I'll find a way to get this over here eventually. It was a hot day but I drank out of the garden hose before reading the electricity metre and wending my way back via the stock route.

When I got home Gerald my new landlord arrived to try and hook up the TV for me (he couldn't as the aerial connection had been cut off the cord into the house) before sending one of his workers and my new neighbour Hamish in to try (he couldn't fix it either). I managed to eat a little dinner thanks to Rachel who dropped off salad, tomatoes and a chocolate wombat for Easter.

Wednesday was art at Otane thank goodness. I rested when I got home as I knew I had a big day coming on Thursday. An occupational therapist was due to come out in the morning. Fortunately she was running late as I had to go out in the paddock and rescue Toby who had got himself cast and needed help turning the right way up. Managed to vacume the sitting room and part of the kitchen before the OT arrived. She was here two hours finding ways to help me out.

After lunch I let the chickens out at last then returned down the road with more of Cathy's belongings and collected some of my plants and cuttings which I planted in the garden here. Whether they'll survive is anyone's guess as I only had energy to water a few of them. This morning I can barely lift my arm from carrying the three heavy plastic bags back along the road but a sleep this morning as done the world of good so now I am waiting for Rachel's husband to come and try and fix the TV for me. Lets hope third man lucky!

Sold

Gine told me yesterday that the cottage sold late last week. The buyer is the writer from Auckland who came a month ago- apparently he is a friend of the real estate agent. He will be using this place as a holiday home. Not one other person came to view the property which made it easy on me, especially as I am in a state of chaos with my packing.

I have decided today is my final day packing apart from last minute things. I have finished the sitting room, the spare room and will finish my office within the hour. I fully intend to spend two days at art this week to keep my mind off the big weekend to come plus I have outside work to finish. I am nowhere as stressed as I was last time as I am not moving to a strange area. I just want it to be over.

"Butterfly"

Three days of welcome rain meant I was stuck inside so able to complete more packing. I have nearly finished packing up the sitting room apart from pictures on the walls. Two things I will miss about this room are the morning sun which floods in till lunchtime and the lounge suite which belongs to my landlady. It is so comfortable that many a nap time has been spent on the sofa.

The one thing I am dreading moving is the pianola. At the moment people are telling me horror stories about pianos falling down stairs and off the back of trucks so I will be happy when she's enscounced in her new home. When I was little I used to pedal the pianola whom I named "Butterfly" after one of the rolls that were bought with her. I later bought her from my mother many years ago for $200. All her insides were gone (the piano, not my mother) and the bellows held together by copious packaging tape but I had everything restored to working order. I also foolishly had the Canadian Maple/mahogany case French polished so now every mark shows up. There are various cat scratches plus bumps from numerous moves. I can't remember the last time she was tuned but it's well over 12 years ago. My aunt's brass candlesticks adorn the front and I even found a gold and green sparkly butterfly to hang from one of these. The place wouldn't be the same without Butterfly.

The chicks are settling into the hen house although they're the lowest of the pecking order- literally. Whenever I go to feed them Gine flies up on my arm while the others compete with Artemis Fowl for a position on my lap. Speaking of which the old brown hen is laying again at the age of nine. Not bad for an old broad.