Flu, Pooh and Moulting Balls

Peaches got all frisky in the middle of the night, got off the bed, pulled all the cat toys out and began batting a polystyrene ball around the house. The next morning there were little pieces of dead ball lying around the dining room but Peaches had put the it back where she'd found it so she got a B for tidiness.

My brother was rushed to hospital by ambulance a few days ago with flu that developed into pnuemonia. He was placed in isolation for a day while being tested for Swine Flu but turned out he just had the ordinary human variety. After being given a nebulizer three times and oxygen throughout his stay he was released home. The worrying part of all this is that he has emphysema and even though he had his flu shots he still got sick.

The sun actually came out today so got a few outside chores done. Dug out more couch grass and cleaned out the chook house which is not a job for the faint hearted or anyone with a sensitive nose. Which reminds me- heard about a man in Papua New Guinea who tried to commit suicide by throwing himself down a long drop toilet. A woman who went in heard someone calling for help but ran off thinking it was evil spirits. The man was eventually rescued but I'm sure he found himself in more s**t with his wife who had to do his laundry.

Two Reasons For Not Making The Bed

Woke up to a steely sky and drizzle this morning. The cats went outside, after half an hour one by one they came back in. Kit disappeared behind the sofa, Demelza just disappeared. However Peaches and Gypsy decided to return to bed, only turning to give a look of disapproval at the dog for daring to wake them up.

Gradually they begin to get sleepy again and head off to dream about cheese flavoured mice. I hang around hoping they'll get the hint to get off so I can make the bed but in the end I don't have the heart to move them. It's pouring with rain, it's really a day for vegging out and being lazy.



So in the end I climb into bed fully dressed and have a cat nap of my own. After all if you can't beat 'em, join 'em!

Winter Bites

The weather is only suitable for polar bears at the moment so over the weekend I rearranged the dining table using it to paint on so I could sit in front of the fire. I wasn't the only one- Demelza and Mishka lay roasting on the carpet for the duration.

Everywhere there seems to be more and more concern about the Swine Flu. It seems ironic that all the precautions the Health Department are recommending are just plain commonsense such as covering your mouth when you cough and washing hands thoroughly. I am trying to build up my immune system with an echinacea/garlic/zinc supplement. Even the chickens have been getting the treatment with some garlic paste that was past its used by date. The smell in their house was so potent for a couple of days that none of them were too keen to sit close to each other. If only I could encourage Mishka to eat some- anything would be an improvement over his scrofulous breath.

Grey Skies

Marg and John arrived early this morning with a uteload of firewood. Just in the nick of time as I was down to my last few pieces. It was quite warm while Marg and I unloaded (my Dad would have a fit if he could have seen how we just threw everything in the woodshed rather than neatly stacking it) but by the time we all had a cup of tea and a chat the sky to the south looked like a smacked bum. Thankfully Sue Bradford wasn't in close proximity.

By lunchtime the mountains were shrouded by rain but some of the bantams bravely ventured onto the driveway to pick at any squashed acorns. Within half an hour they were congregating on the patio and crowing through the windows trying to encourage me to put them to bed early.

The early winter encouraged me to become uncharacteristically domesticated on Saturday- I made a pot of homemade soup. I cooked enough for several meals, freezing the surplus for the nights when I'm too lazy to make anything. When I told a friend I'd made soup she asked "And was it edible?" I was mortified by her suspicion, after all my culinary skills are legion!

Jack Frost Moves In

If the poem is right and you're "nearer God's heart in a garden than anywhere else on earth" then parts of mine are nearer Satan's backside. I think couch grass is a devilish invention designed to drive gardeners round the bend. When I first moved here it had grown to three feet high in places out the front but gradually I've been digging it out with the occasional assistance of Rose who now admits couch is her most hated weed.

Last week I sidelined gardening to concentrate on helping organise the Otane Painter's exhibition. On the third day I was there on duty watching the sky darken outside the old schoolhouse's windows as the day wore on. Glenys and I left soon after 4pm and by the time we neared Tikokino the temperature had fallen to 1oC. By the time I got out of the car it was snowing.

All that evening I kept opening the dining room curtains and turning on the outside light so that I could watch the snow falling. The next morning it was still lying on the grass outside and across the Argyll hills to the east. Since then we've had some killer frosts which have frozen the chooks' water dishes, killed part of my money plant by the front door and made the cats burrow under the bedclothes at night. I just wish it would kill the couch grass.

A Lost Stitch

I have begun knitting again. No really I have begun knitting again for the first time in {cough} years. I saw some purple feathery yarn in Waipukurau and decided to "create" a scarf for a friend's birthday in July.

Knitting is a bit like riding a bike- soon as you start you remember how to do it. However I will admit that it took me two hours to cast on and complete three rows that first evening and there was quite alot of swearing involved. Then they don't tell you that if you drop a stitch with this slippery shiny stuff you can't find it again and have to unravel what you've done and start again. Three times! However I am proud to report that I have now knitted about six inches of scarf and that the swearing has diminished to a faint muttering.

Napier Siege

I grew up in and spent many years living in or near Napier so it was a surreal experience to watch it being terrorized by one disturbed man last week. Three policemen went to a house on a routine drug bust but instead one ended up shot dead and the other two wounded along with a civilian who tried to wrestle the gun off the killer. The murdered policeman is someone I'd met a few times when I lived in a semi rural and semi criminal area near Taradale. Len Snee was a good cop who tried to help instead of just saying "move". He was the epitomy of the community policeman who cared about what happened on his patch.

For two days Len's body lay near the house in Carlyle Road. Even when the army came in with their armoured trucks they were still unable to remove his remains. Meanwhile another policeman's German Shepherd waited quietly in a van for two days, the usually vocal dog never barking despite the intermittent shooting throughout the days and nights of the siege.

It was strange to watch places I'd biked past flashed on the TV news. To hear of schools I'd attended in lock down for a couple of days, to see people unable to go back to their homes due to being within the range of the killer's rifle. When his identity became known then it was realised that we were in for a prolonged seige as this man had a complete arsenal of guns as well as bombs and night vision equipment. He was also known to grow cannabis and was extremely paranoid due to ongoing tension with the Mongrel Mob gang.

Finally on Saturday the police stormed the house to find the killer dead in his bedroom. His body still lies there now as his house is carefully combed for booby traps. It is difficult to comprehend that such a crazy incident could happen in sleepy Napier. It feels as if the city will be forever tainted by the memory.

Airini

My friend Airini has died.

Over the two years I knew her she was always popping by with magazines for me to read. We'd have a chat with her sitting on her motorbike wrapped up in wet weather gear, woollen gloves, scarves and a cap perched on top even in the heat of summer. She'd pull an old hessian sack over her knees to keep the chill off and carry a stick to wave at Lil if she got up to mischief. She took a great interest in my cats, especially Kit who she called the most beautiful cat she'd ever seen (Kit was forever rolling over showing her tummy and generally behaving like a tart). Often Airini would bring photos to show me of the cats her family owned when she was young, then more recent pictures of the middle aged version of herself with kid goats climbing over her farmbike back in the 80s. Often she'd cut the conversation short before rushing home to watch a rugby match or else the cricket on Sky while she did crosswords to keep her mind sharp as a tack.

Earlier this year she began driving down to the farm dump with bags of photos and memorabilia to burn. She said she was having a clear out so her niece wouldn't have to do it after she was gone. It was only weeks later that I heard she'd been diagnosed with Leukaemia. She no longer rode her four wheeler motorbike but instead drove her car down to do her few farm chores with her dog Lil still running beside her. There were no more conversations at the front fence but she'd always hold her hand up in greeting as she drove by.

I never got to say goodbye before I left the farm but two weeks ago when I heard she'd had an accident I rang the farm manager's wife who told me that Airini had gone to open a gate and fainted. Turned out she was dehyrdated and her family, fearing she wasn't looking after herself, put her in a home. I sent her a card over a week ago never expecting that she'd die suddenly a few days later. Her heart must have broken from having to leave the land. She was in her 89th year.

The Big Shift- Again.

I thought it would never happen but I've finally shifted. After being surrounded by boxes for months I am in a new home- surrounded by boxes.
The day before I was due to move on the 24th March I felt I was running out of stream. Gay arrived late morning and took a carload of breakables to the new place while I schlepped from room to room putting the last bits and pieces into whatever I could find. In the afternoon Gine arrived for a couple of hours and we packed my winter clothes, the last of the ornaments from the dining room and the remainder of the office stuff. Diane and Richard were also busy taking my old henhouse and reassembling it on the front lawn plus trailer loads of cages, plants and outside dross.

Tuesday dawned grey and drizzly but later turned sunny which was an immense relief. The truck driver wasn't due until 4pm which meant it would be a late night for us all. Rich and Di arrived early to take more stuff down and at 3pm my new helper and friend Rose as well as Marie and Gay turned up with cars to transport fragiles. However the truck didn't arrive until 4.30pm with only one man instead of two so everyone had to help take things outside, even Charlotte with daughters Georgia and Ella. Finally we had it all loaded at 6.30 so I piled into Rose's car with Mishka on my knee and we drove to the new house.

It took another two hours to unload the truck but fortunately this time the driver's son had arrived to help. In the end we just piled things into the sitting room so that I couldn't even get in there. Marie, Gay and Rose left while the truck was finally being cleared. Another problem was that I had no water so Betty next door rang her son and he turned it on when he arrived home an hour later. Then we discovered that the telephone didn't work but by then it was getting really late so Diane and Richard said they would return the next day and we would sort everything else out then.

When I released the cats they all disappeared beneath the spare bed. After a while though they began exploring which ended in a crash and Gypsy racing out of the sitting room. I then discovered she'd upended a box of china so carefully transported by Gay and broken three pieces of antique china. I was too tired to even cry. By this time the water was back on so I ran a bath but someone had turned the hot water cylinder off so it was more of a hurried wash as the cold water was combined with the bathroom window being open as it was broken and couldn't be closed.

I clambered into bed about 10.30pm but began to freeze as there was a broken window in my bedroom. At 2am I got up and stuffed a rubbish bag in the cracks before crawling back to bed. Demelza had a particularly rough night becoming so stressed that she ripped holes in my sheets. Peaches was forever jumping up on my knee and Kit decided to spend the night sleeping on my head for comfort. Gypsy was being ignored due to the china breaking incident.

I slept in until 7am the next morning. I managed to persuade the dog to go outside although he wanted to come back in immediately. I made a cup of tea and fed the cats but later forgot to feed myself. My cousin Elaine arrived just after 9am followed by Rose and Gay and we began getting the kitchen organised. Then Rose left to clean the other house while the three of us began to shift boxes out of the sitting room so that we could change the furniture around. By midday you could actually sit down on a comfortable chair.

By then Lorraine (one of my brother's friends) turned up followed shortly afterwards by Diane and Rich who began covering in the carport with tarps and wirenetting to make a secure shelter for the rabbits. Mid afternoon the others had left so we decided to head down to the old house to collect the bunnies. Diane was going with Rich's friend and myself with Rich but Lorraine's car wouldn't start as the battery was flat. This had to be only time Richard didn't have his jump leads in the car so we had to drive into Tikokino village to collect a pair from his sister in law. By the time we arrived back and managed to get Lorraine's car started it was 5.30pm and the sun was beginning to set.

At the old house the others went around the back with Lorraine's two dogs while I put the rabbit's in carry cages and put them in Rich's car. While he took down their cages Diane and I rolled up the polythene with its wet sawdust and manure and bundled it into bags. While Rich and I drove back Lorraine and Di sluiced out the garage with hot water.

By the time we returned it was dark so with the aid of Rich's torch I got into the hen house and managed to catch all the bantams. As I caught each one Rich would bundle it into a bank of cages which were strapped to the trailer. After I finished we covered this with a tarp and drove home where I put them into their original hen house Rich had erected on the front lawn.

In the middle of all this a ute drove over to the fence and someone jumped out. This was my first meeting with my new landlord who wrote down the name of the electricity company he had the cottage with and which I needed to shift over to. What he must have thought with three dogs running around I don't like to think but we were too tired to explain what was happening.

Everyone left soon after that so I fed the rabbits in their carry cages as we hadn't had time to hang their own ones and then went inside to feed the cats, have a cup of tea, a hot bath and then crawl to bed by midnight.

Thursday Richard arrived early morning saying that he was going to collect my firewood. He did this in two loads and I helped him to unload the wood into the small shed at the back. In the middle of this Gay rang to say that Gareth and Gine had found a horse float and she'd be down at 4.30 to collect me so I could help load Briar and bring her back. Mid morning Telecom arrived to fix something on the roadside so I could finally get my phone working. Mid afternoon Rich arrived back with Diane and we had to decide where to hang the cages which wasn't easy as the roof was over 12 feet high. Finally deciding on where a couple should go I was able to leave with Gay thinking I would only be half an hour away. Instead of which another adventure was in store.

We stopped to collect Gareth and the trailer before heading back down the road for the last time. Briar was excited to see us as she must have been lonely for company. I got the halter on her easily but soon as she was walked towards the ramp of the horse float she put her brakes on. We pulled, I pushed her bottom, I tried to place one hoof at a time on the ramp and by this manner we actually got her to the top before she'd had enough and jumped off sideways scratching just above her eye in the process.

Next I got inside the horse float and tried to pull her in while Gay and Gareth pushed from the other end. I suggested Gay head over to the manager's house and ask if Andrew could lend up a hand and a rope but Charlotte said he wasn't there. However Gay waved down two men who were heading home after working on the cow shed. One bearded guy with a paunch stuck his head round the door and said "Gidday. Is she a kicker?" I assured him she was an angel with anything but floats. By this time his opposite (a tall skinny man) arrived. They sized up the situation, grabbed a synthetic rope from their truck, stood on either side behind her with the rope between them and told us to pull. The shock of having a yellow donkey thong up her rear end was enough to startle Briar into rushing up the ramp which meant to had to move smartly out of the way while Gareth tied her up before she could back up again. Our two hairy angels were very bemused by the whole situation "When anyone asks what I did today I can say I installed a ***** and got a donkey into a float" the skinny one said with a grin.

By 6.30pm we were home. Gareth backed the float into the driveway and opened the door. Briar backed out, covered with sweat and stressed. I walked her round the back and put her out into the paddock. Gay and Gareth left shortly afterwards, no doubt wondering what they'd done to deserve such an experience!

I went inside to check the cats only to hear Diane yell out. By the time I got outside they were racing across the paddock in the car. Briar apparently had seen some cattle and trotted over braying hello. Next thing the cattle all chased her back. She led them a merry chase around two paddocks before doubling behind them and following Rich's car back over to the gate. We were all a bit shaken by this time. Rich finished hanging most of the cages by 8 pm and they both left soon afterwards. I transferred the buns back into their cages, fed and watered them. On heading back inside I had my first evening meal for three days consisting of two Cruskitts and chocolate icecream to follow before falling asleep on the sofa for two hours.

Friday morning the 27th was my first day on my own. I woke at 7am again but got out and checked that everyone was ok including Briar who came over to say hello. However she disappeared during the day and later Betty arrived on her pushbike to say that Briar had been over by the other farm cottage and become convinced I was inside and brayed all day for me to come out. She had chased her back but suggested that I call out to her to let her know where I was. I did this over the next day and Briar soon became accustomed to her new home. Now just to get the goats back!

At Last!

I have been to see three houses in the past two weeks. Two were very old and pretty run down plus not in areas I want to live in, the third was in good order and still in the Tikokino area. Yesterday Gine, Gay and I went to see it on the way home from a surprise baby shower for Gine at a friend's house in Onga Onga. It is situated behind a large hedge which shelters it on the west side and surrounded by a large garden which is overgrown at the moment as the previous tenant vacated a while back.

The house is painted a lavender/blue shade and has a concrete patio at the front with a pergola covered in a grape vine. This looks to get all day sun which will be a bonus in the harsh winters here. There was a large outside room at the back door painted neon green with navy trimmings. Gine thought this would make a great art studio. Inside there were three bedrooms as well as a kitchen/dining room and sitting room facing north. The girls laughed when I bent down and kissed the Lady Kitchener stove in the kitchen. I have missed my one at the last place SOOOOO much. The carpet throughout is in excellent condition and a soft moss green colour while most of the walls are a pale peach. Walls- well there are more windows than walls which will make for creative furniture arranging.

At the back there is a large carport open on two sides which will have to be adapted for the buns. Also a good sized woodshed plus a small sort of implement shed attached to the outside room. I rang the landlord to ask more questions that evening and he offered the use of three small paddocks for grazing plus a chookhouse which is quite a distance from the house but will be good temporarily. Hopefully I will be able to move in the next four or five days- two days before "The Deadline".
Now to finish my packing. The yellow spare room is unrecognizable as it is full of packed and empty boxes. Hopefully I will be more settled in a week and can pick up my life again as I have been in a terrible limbo these past weeks. Added to all this I learned my aunt died a week ago. Her funeral was yesterday in Wellington so I couldn't go. She was only 54 and such a lovely gentle person. I wish I had known her all my life instead of just the past twenty years but that's adoption for you.

The Three Bad Things

This week has been like a journey down a dark hallway- much like the one here. Firstly on Tuesday morning I went out to feed the chooks only to find a pile of feathers near the shed. On further investigation I discovered a demolished bantam that I recognised as being Little Gay, one of the chicks born in December 2007. I remembered the previous evening that Briar had been acting disturbed, running around and snorting. Just then Peanut, the farm manager's little fox terrier ran out and along the fence out of this place so it looks like he was responsible for killing the hen.

Then I received an email from my aunt to say her older sister who was diagnosed with cancer a year ago is very ill and bedridden. Karen was the first person from my birth family that I ever met and she had always been very kind to me so this news is a great blow, especially as she is still so young.

I was still reeling from that news when late yesterday morning a message was left that the property manager was coming out to see me at 12.30pm. I had a bad feeling about this as a tenant is meant to be given 24 hours notice when an inspection is due. I rang my friend Gay from down the road and she came to keep me company.

At 12.50pm there was a knock at the door and my landlord was standing there. The first thing he said was that I better not lie about things as he would think very little of me and I better not go the "Tenancy Tribunal way" either. This was referring to the fact that he has never put it in writing that I need to leave here which legally means I don't have to although I have never stated this to him. He said the property manager was bringing a letter which I was to sign in front of them stating that he had told me to leave in October "and you better not lie and say I didn't say that". He went on to say that he had been "very good" to me yet further on he stated that he had not fixed the broken window or done any other repairs while I was here as he was going to renovate the place for the new resident anyway and didn't want to waste the money. He also said he had given glowing references to three different people about me but when I asked him who he stuck his chin in the air and said he wasn't going to tell me. However he was now "over it" and over feeling sorry for me.

The property manager then told me the landlord had not put anything in writing as he was trying to be a gentleman. She handed me the letter which I tried to read although my hand was shaking so much I could barely see the writing. I asked if I could read it on my own and she said she would send me a copy so I was made to sign my own eviction notice with them both standing over me. The landlord told me to move into town if I couldn't find somewhere suitable. There was alot more that he said and fortunately Gay was behind me listening so I have a witness as to the illegal behaviour that took place by my front door.

By the time I shut the door and went through to the kitchen I was a crying mess. I cried solidly for two hours. It never ceases to amaze me how callous and cruel people can be and how they think they can bend the law to suit their own ends.

Little Boxes

Kit loves the fact that I am packing as much as I dislike doing it. She loves boxes, empty or half packed, big or small, if you lose sight of that rotund hairy body you'll soon find it ensconsed in cardboard. I finished packing all my books today. No mean feat considering they are one of my addictions. I truly think that I actually will have enough boxes this time. Third time's the charm.

I have an appointment to see a property on Saturday which was once lived in by a friend of mine. I have no idea what state it will be in as it is as old as this place but hopefully this will reflect in the rent. It's a bit nearer civilisation than I would hope but still not in town. Hopefully the wiring is a bit safer than here and the landlord a bit more honest.

The Witch, the Switch and the Weird Landlords

Thursday morning there was a message for me to ring the property manager. Worried that perhaps my rent hadn't gone through I rang straight away only to have an extremely unpleasant conversation with her. Apparently my landlord had left a message that he had given me till October 2008 to get out of here but I'd dragged it out to November, December and so on. Of course this isn't true as he had told me late January but mid March at the latest. She mentioned that he had gone about it the wrong way (ie. hadn't written me a formal notice to quit) but that he'd only done that "to be kind". Her entire attitude was that he'd been this wonderful landlord who had taken me on when no one else would have wanted to. I brought up the broken window which thirteen weeks on has still not been fixed but there was no answer.

I put it back into her court and asked what properties she'd found for me. She only had one but said I would not be able to afford the rent. Just to make sure that I realised how low I rate in the scheme of things she told me that she'd never be able to find me a place, especially with my dog. She said he disturbed work on the farm. This is news to me as Mishka is usually at my side and will only bark if people come onto the property or too near to it. He never chases stock or is aggressive.

I came off the phone totally demoralized and confused as to why my landlord had changed his story. In desperation I rang the last number I had been given while searching for a place to live. I had not wanted to ring this particular farmer as he had a reputation. I can see why. He asked me the most personal questions. He was most reluctant to have a donkey on his property, in fact he didn't even want me but did say he would be in touch before the end of the day. At 5.30pm just after I had got into the bath the phone rang, then rang again, then someone began banging on the front door. Two hours later this man rang to say that he'd come to see me as he wanted to catch me unprepared so he could see how I live! He then went onto say he was considering my proposal seriously but wasn't sure about the donkey etc.

I spent much of Thursday crying. It really hurts to be talked down to, especially when you talk to other tenants and hear that they have not had similar experiences. I rang the Tenancy Advice Centre and spoke to a lovely lady who was actually a landlord. She told me my rights and generally bucked me up a great deal. However even now I am afraid and feel totally trapped as I know I may end up somewhere I do not want to be.

A huge downpour began Saturday night and by Sunday morning it had really set in. After I came in from my morning wander I turned on the kettle to boil a cup of tea and left the room. A minute later I heard the strangest buzzing and popping sound and saw Gypsy tear out of the room. By the time I got to the kitchen doorway I could see sparks and smoke billowing out of the power point. I knew it was only a matter of seconds before the wall caught fire so leant across the bench, reached my hand through the sparks and switched the kettle off before pulling the plug out. The power point was fried, black scorch marks around the switch and partially up the wall. I was shaking like a leaf.

The first night after I moved in not quite a year ago my brother pointed out green "stuff" coming out of the power point in the hallway and warned me not to use it. Likewise in my bedroom. All the power points affected look to have been installed in the 1980s and I think they may have been put in by an amateur. I always turn appliances off at the wall to save on electricity but now I will do so for safety as well.

I want my sense of hope as well as my sense of humour to return soon as it is hard to cope with life when they're both lacking. I stress then pack before falling asleep and waking to the same old situation. I need a miracle.

Limbo

Purgatory is, I believe, some sort of waiting room where souls hangs about for an appointment that never comes. That's how I'm feeling at the moment as I have yet to find somewhere to live. I cannot make plans for the future, I have nightmares whenever I sleep, I live in a kind of limbo where you're surrounded by half packed boxes and dread whenever anyone asks "Have you found somewhere yet?" Probably much of this is due to the fact that this is the third move in two years. I for one will never believe a landlord when he says "long term rental" ever again.


Added to which I have rats which can be very painful and make your eyes water. They scratch in the walls at night and leave little long black reminders absolutely everywhere outside. The cats did their best and caught three smaller grey individuals but I lock them inside at night for their safety (and to give the local bird life a chance) so they don't get an opportunity to hunt the larger rodents. Of course this doesn't deter Peaches who currently spends all day in the garage looking at a wall from which she expects a mighty feast to emerge.

Mitre 10 in Hastings (one of my favourite shops) has a great range of poisons. I bought one that resembled a green block of chocolate (and smelt the same) which you break up and hide in various nooks and crannies. Within a couple of days I discovered a large brown rat RIP-ing in the shed plus a terrible stench began to emanate from the wash house wall where obviously one had died looking for water. Then a couple of days ago a small grey rat was floating in a bucket of water outside.

I feel bad about having to kill them but on the other hand the thought of the diseases they carry helps me quash my vegetarian tree huggy tendencies. I know pet rats are terribly intelligent and affectionate but they're one animal I prefer to see with all four paws pointing skywards.

Then there's the heat- last weekend I noticed it was 36oC under the veranda at 9am and I'm sure it crept up to 40oC (100oF) in the sun. I brought Briar nearer the house to eat down some of the grass out the back before it becomes a fire hazzard. She thinks this is wonderful and has been having great fun chasing chickens and staring malevolently through the hen house window just to let them know who's boss.

The Return of the Egg Man and Other Idiots

I am distinctly nervous when I haven't seen Mishka for at least ten minutes. This usually signals he's sneakily egg hunting. Last weekend I noticed him lying beneath a tree on the lawn panting away. Thinking he was suffering from the summer heat I just left him alone until he made his way inside at lunch time. Immediately the most pungent aroma filled the house and I realised he'd gorged himself on a nest of rotten hens' eggs. How he finds these is a mystery, he seems to have been born with an innate ability to discover nests hidden away in remote areas that he never usually goes.

That night the smell was so potent I made him sleep in the hallway, grateful for the fact that I am not addicted to cigarettes as one struck match could have ignited the foul stench and blown the whole house away. In desperation I lifted up his tail and saw the remnants of various effusions so spent ten minutes "dagging" (cutting the messy hair) from around his rear end which frankly is a job I should receive danger money for.

Monday I received a call from my brother to say that Fungus the Bogey Car (my car left at his place) had been vandalized and the two right doors kicked in. This is the second time in three years that some idiot has had a go at it which infuriates me as anyone could tell it's a very old car that belongs to a financially challenged person. Rich too it to a panel beater who quoted repairs costing $800. As the car is only insured for $1000 and really only worth $300 we were both worried that the insurance company would write it off which would leave me without a car at all as you cannot buy anything roadworthy for a thousand these days. We both visited the insurance company who promised to do their best but since then I have been too frightened to ring and learn their decision.

Wednesday morning before I went to my art group I discovered "Limpy" a very old bantam hen had died in her sleep so there was a burial at 7am. Despite this sad start I had a pleasant day and came home late afternoon to confirm an advert I have placed in the accommodation wanted section of the local paper. At 8.45pm however I received a phone call from The Landlord who told me that despite telling me I had till mid March to find a place he wants me out yesterday as he has builders lined up to do alterations to the house. He asked if I had a Plan B which of course I haven't so he has told me to double my efforts to find somewhere to live. Obviously he thinks I just sit around eating bon bons and not doing anything. I was too gobsmacked to even ask when he was going to fix the broken window which has been left now for eight weeks.Add all this to relatives ringing to say my mother is dying it has not been a good start to the year.

The Gang Of Five

After last week's heatwave we've been lucky to have several days of gentle rain up here. Before it began on Saturday I rushed out and cut down the eight feet tall dried foxglove stalks, gently lying them in newspaper before bringing them inside to harvest. And that's when all the fun started. I spent hours sitting on the floor gently prising unopened pods and emptying the tiny brown seeds into an old honey container. This process literally took hours with me intermittedly screaming as very weird looking spiders ran up my arms. I am not good with creepy crawlies and by the time I'd finished harvesting I was itching all over. Result: I ended up with half a honey container full of tiny brown seeds plus a sore bum.

The wire fence between my place and the big paddock is just a joke these days. It is actually just a roll of wire netting that's held to the main fence by a single strand of rusty wire. I tried to improve it by threading wooden standards through to add stability but it still wobbles first to one side then the other. So it wasn't surprising one morning to meet a black faced ram in the back yard when I went out to feed the chooks. He calmly gazed back at me before returning to the fence and hopping delicately over.

For several days "Boris" as I named him would come in for a few minutes before the sight of me sent him walking back to his own field. But then he began bringing four of his friends along with him for the adventure. They were always the four same animals- one with curly horns "Horny", another black faced ram "Horatio", "Limpy" and "Sid". Initially I was worried about the garden but since I'm not going to be here much longer I gave up worrying and just hoped they would make a good job of mowing the lawn. If I went outside Boris would lead the gang back to the fence and they'd jump over. Who says sheep aren't smart? But yesterday Andrew's dogs rounded them up and took them away much to Briar's distress (she ran up and down the fence braying abuse at him). I thought they were all gone but this morning poor Horny was lying in the field stone dead. I guess the excitement just got too much for him.

Furballs Rule OK

Kit is one very constipated cat. I noticed her making frequent trips to her litter box where she squeezed her full rotundedness into the small space, staring up at me with big soulful yellow eyes. I figured being long haired she must have an obstruction so yesterday began giving her "Cat Lax" which is meant to solve the hairball problem. Totally offended at having an inch of dark brown goo squished onto her nice clean white paw Kit now turns her back on me while "in situ" so that I can only see a humungous black fluffy tail hanging over the edge of the tray. Some creatures just don't appreciate being helped. Very few supermarkets seem to stock the anti hairball formulated dry food she's meant to eat so often I have to substitute the weight watcher's version instead. It doesn't look any different and still costs a tail and a paw but obviously it's not doing the job as Kit still wobbles about like a black furry basketball with legs.

I had a tough start to the year when one of my new does suddenly died on New Year's Day. Initially I thought she was being affected by the heat so treated her accordingly but was completely shocked when I went to feed her in the afternoon and found her lying stone dead on the cage floor. Two days later her litter sister went the same way with no preceding symptoms. I was completely devastated as I could not work out what the problem was and after nearly a week it is still a mystery as everyone else is fine.

I was meant to go see a house on Tuesday. Sounded ideal and the landlady seemed keen but the next morning there was a message on the phone from her husband saying he wanted a man who could take over farm work when they went on holiday. I rang another number only to be told they'd just leased out their land and there was only a house available. So it looks like I shall have to advertise in the local newspaper when it starts up again.

After reading about the Law Of Attraction (thinking positive) I sat down and made a "vision board" with pictures and words of everything I want to attract into my life. I stuck a photo of my ideal house with the words "own your own piece of paradise" beneath just to give the universe a hint. And ok there was a picture of Johnny Depp on the page as well but you just never know.....

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.