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.

"The G Girls" and the Crazy Loom Woman

Yesterday afternoon the chicks made the move to "the big house". I carried the family (including a still clucky Mum) out in their night cage and put this in the back of the hen house with a feed bag on the top so they would not be bombed from above by any fowls who went to sleep on top. Their first experience of free ranging in the back paddock today consists of a welcome steady rain which must come as quite a shock to them after their previously sheltered and droughty life.

My original guess of four pullets and one rooster turned out to be correct so I have named the four females "The G Girls". That is they are named after friends of mine: Gine, Glenys, Gaye and Gwendolyn. Fortunately no one has been insulted by having a chook named after them.

Yesterday I also did a stupid and impulsive thing. I bought a loom. Yes just what I need to worry about with shifting and everything else that is going on at the moment. However it was a table loom with accessories, six years old but never used for $35! This instead of between $200-300. However it is up in Helensville and although I have a friend who visits her son there every fortnight I now have to work out how to get it from her place in Auckland. Crazy........That Trademe is an evil website.

Eggstraordinary Admissions

Now that my cottage and all it's earthly goods are advertised on the internet anyone with half a connection can see my junk in all its glory. Well maybe not all of it. As I go through wardrobes and find more bags of uncarded or carded wool stuffed in shelves I realise I have a serious stash problem.


Someone commented that my place looks like an "artist's home" which I guess is a polite way of saying it's messy and eclectic. Where else could you see seven ostrich eggs nestling on the spare bed? I tell visitors that I have been busy laying, in reality they've been given to me over the years with the idea that I'll paint something wonderful on them. I've only ever painted one with a Siamese cat head on it and it still hasn't sold. Eggs aren't all that popular in Kiwiville.

My only consolation is that I did the big throwing out thing a year ago before I moved here. In fact some boxes I still hadn't got round to unpacking so that's a bonus. Many of them lurk under the spare bed and in wardrobes but I can't throw them out. There is the box full of telephone directories filled with pressed flowers, the box filled with flower presses, the 40 year old suitcase with my old UE art folio and more wool, bags of curtains from my last cottage, a box of photos. I hear myself reiterating a comment I often heard from my Dad "they might come in handy one day". Perhaps I should rephrase that as "one day I might have time to do something with them". I am proud that you'll never call me a minimalist- I also will never be bored.

Cat Crimes

I sat in cat sick yesterday. I don't recommend it. How I missed seeing it before my backside hit the scene of crime is beyond me. At first I thought the chair had somehow been rained on from inside but when I lifted myself up and discovered matted fur on my skirt I realised in horror what had happened. Who is responsible I have yet to ascertain although I know Peaches is innocent as the hair wasn't ginger.

Speaking of whom the great red hunter decided to become theatre critic the other afternoon after observing the rat dancing matinee show. The result of her review? She ate the lead dancer.

At present I am working my way through the messiest room of the cottage which or course is my office. The big bookshelf to the left takes over 17 boxes of books apparently. To protect them I stuff my jerseys in the boxes round them fervantly hoping we don't get a cold snap before I shift.

The latest news on my move is that I will finally gain possession of my new place on the 15th March. The landlord has a property manager from a local real estate firm and she told me that she needs to inspect the place before I move in (plus every six months after) but I should be good for that date. Unfortunately I now have to pay one week's rent letting fee, four week's bond and one week in advance coming to $857 which of course so looks like I'll charge a fee for people to come and look out the bathroom window at the dancing rat extravaganzas!

First Anniversary

Late this morning Gine brought Marina and her daughter Charlotta out to visit their chickens. We stood out in the paddock while Charlotta hand fed them with Artemis Fowl excitedly joining in. I was told that the white rooster's name is Franz, the white hen is Natalie and the black hens Francesca and Lara! They have another grey hen who was meant to come out as well but she has two chicks at the moment so they'll be joining the flock after I move.

I was really pleased that Toby came round to say hello before Briar arrived for a cuddle with Gine and I resulting in both of us being covered with dirt as she'd been rolling. We finished the visit with a trip to the bunnies and then Kit had her stomach rubbed by Charlotta for a good ten minutes.

At 2.45pm a white car pulled up in the drive and two men got out. One came to the door and explained they were the clients from Auckland and asked if it be alright if they walked around the garden while they waited for the land agent. That was fine with me so they wandered around and ended walking along the shingle road so they could get a better look at the property. The agent then arrived and they spent a further half an hour going through the cottage. After they left I went out and saw a "for sale" sign nailed to the front fence which makes it all seem so final. It was only when I went back in that I realised that it is a year today since I first saw this place and knew that I was coming to live here.

The Pack Rat Begins Packing

A friend sent out several banana boxes recently so I have begun packing up some of my heavier books in these and lying an old sheet over the top for protection. The cats think I'm doing this just for them in order that they have a wider choice of napping stations. I need to get so many more cartons as I have one large book case that used to take over fourteen boxes of books but now groans underneath the burden of my mother's old gardening, health and spiritual tomes as well. Note to self- I need more bookcases. Other note to self- don't tell family this as they'll suggest I need to get rid of some of my books.


I still have not had written notice to leave yet although the real estate agent rang last night and said the property is now officially for sale and he'll be bringing a client through on Sunday afternoon. I rang the Tenancy Tribunal to ask how exactly I get my bond money back and they put me through to the bond division who looked up their records and discovered my bond had never been lodged with them in March 2007. Landlords are required to do this within 23 working days so I have no idea where the money is. As I borrowed the money and will still be paying this off until February 2009 this is not great news so better get painting and selling some work to cover everything.

Valentine's Day

It's Valentine's Day so all day have been hearing the mindless hype on the radio and television about remembering your special someone. Probably a great day if you're a florist but not so much if you're single. I gave Toberymory goat his Valentine's gift today- he got wormed. He's been eating his Christmas nuts from Uncle Richard like there's no tomorrow but he's still really thin and scouring a bit as well. He has also been overdosing on thistles by sticking his head through the deer netting into Smedley's paddock. How he manages to eat the prickles is beyond me.

A land agent came out Monday morning to assess the property. He seemed to be under the illusion that this was just a valuation and that the place wasn't for sale, not sure why he was told this. Although I still haven't heard from the landlords officially about moving they have told their relations I have to go. At this stage I will have access to the new place on the 1st March so hopefully I'll be all moved in within three weeks. I am dreading the upheaval but I'm sure it's all for the best.

Kainui Homestead

I have been to see the cottage on "Kainui" the farm next door which will come available in two weeks time. It is the original homestead on the farm (over 100 years old) so shabby although picturesque. The present tenant told me it is insulated with wool so very warm and there are two fireplaces including a kent log fire which is enclosed and can run on low to save firewood. Much bigger than my present place of course except the sitting room which is minute but with a carved mantelpiece and wooden door opening onto a north facing veranda. The bathroom is grotty but the landlord is having it painted this weekend. Outside there are a couple of old sheds including the original wash house with copper and tubs. Landlord has offered me the orchard and two paddocks next door for grazing. He said as long as I don't run 20 cows in there he's happy (they break fences).

The place reminds me alot of our house at Waiohiki just out of Taradale. Not so much garden apart from roses along the front verandah but just the general layout with all the trees surrounding the home. However it is set far off the road for privacy, you can just see it as you drive to my present place snuggled into the macrocarpas, overlooking a driveway edged with oak trees. Much more sheltered than where I am now and the rent is substantially lower as well. I still haven't heard from the landlords here as I am dealing with Gine and Gareth who came with me to the view the other place. However I guess I will have to leave soon as there is a real estate agent coming to assess the property on Monday morning. Who knew everything would change so dramatically within just a week.

The Show Goes On

The mystery of the disappearing rat is solved as the other night Ratty appeared with Mrs Ratty and a baby Ratty. They spent a good half hour performing on the rafters. Ratty did his impression of Fred Astaire putting on the ritz before the whole family performed exerpts from "Sweeny Todd" with Ratty in the Johnny Depp role, Mrs Ratty as the pie maker and baby Ratty as the pie.

I will miss these nightly performances as on Monday night my landlord's brother in law rang to tell me I have to move as my cottage is to be sold. I have only been here ten months. Added to the bad news I had to bury Cordelia that morning. I am to look at a cottage on the farm next door this evening but I am even more determined now to find the money to buy my own plot of land where the animals and I can live securely.

Rat Watching

For the past couple of months Gypsy has become obsessed with the sport of Rat Watching. This first occurred when a couple of rats took up residence in the roof of the carport at the back door. In the evenings they would put on a show of tap dancing, juggling and tightrope walking that kept Gypsy glued to the bathroom window for hours. Soon the other cats noticed the nightly show so you would find Peaches sitting entranced in the window and occasionally Demelza who fell off the window sill in horror one morning when a friend unexpectedly walked past.

Unfortunately one of the rats disappeared a week or so ago so Ratty is now a widower who believes the show must go on and has taken to solo expressive dancing ala Martha Graham. Not only does he entertain the cats he comes out to say hello to me, hanging down over the rafters and staring hypnotically in his guise of the Great Rattini, master magician. Usually the sight of a ratus horribilis would send me screaming for cover (especially as I've convinced myself he's going to launch forth one day and drop on my head as a grande finale) but Ratty resembles a Beatrix Potter rat, all ears and expressive eyes so now I don't even have the heart to lay poison for him.


Sadly he believes the cats are his groupies, hanging round the back door for autographs and maybe a photo with him which they can upload on their blogs. The truth is Gypsy is waiting for him to slip and fall into her dinner bowl-"Ratatoulie" the ultimate in feline takeaways.