A week? or so ago? I was asked to guest post on Adventures with Kids and I totally forgot to link up when my post went live.
So, if you’re interested in things to do in Tasmania with kids, including some of my neurosis, then head over and check it out.
Nope. Sorry, can’t come through here.
Seems I’ve suddenly got guard ducks. Maybe they’re reacting to a rooster being introduced to the mix?
Who knows.
Or maybe they’re guarding against these guys who have moved in next door.
It’s a Cattle Egret. A beautiful bird.
Sadly, I was outside with only my 50mm lens and not my zoom lens, so getting a closeup was harder than you’d think.
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In other news, scientists have discovered why women think they are fat.
I’d love to know how I would score in one of their tests, seeing as how my brain thinks my body is actually half a step to the left of where it is, leaving me regularly walking into doors or walls or tripping for no reason.
Seems I’m not the only one with fucked up proprioception.
When I started blogging, I’m not sure what I was expecting. I know that I loved reading blogs by other women, blogs that meant I didn’t feel quite so alone.
I didn’t expect to make such good friends, and I have. Plus, I’m still making them every day.
Like minut’d’automne who lives in France with her twins.
This morning a box arrived at my front door and I was thrilled. I mean, look how it’s packaged!
(never mind the disembodied hand, that’s Isaac)
Isn’t it beautiful?
I felt like a kid at Christmas actually, rummaging through a box, discovering treasures through the whole thing.
There were books – lots of books.
As well as some french caramels (probably the reason the box was searched by quarantine, however, everything was deemed safe, thank goodness) a pair of pants for Isaac and a lovely top for Amy.
Plus lots of stickers, which Amy promptly claimed and stuck everywhere. Hehe. Isaac still has a glittery horse on his cheek that he hasn’t noticed. I can’t bring myself to peel it off.
So thankyou so so much. I love it and I’m looking forward to immersing myself in books for a while.
Blogging is fantastic. I’ve made amazing friends.
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While we’re talking about friends, I met with a bunch of Tasmanian twitterers last night for drinks and cheese (or, in my case, mineral water). That was good fun and I’m looking forward to hopefully doing it again another time, so that I can meet those people who couldn’t attend last night. You can see Mum’s recap blog post for that here as well as links to all the twitterers and their blogs.
It takes a brave woman to purposely put her hands in iced over water.
At least that is what I told myself when yesterday, I found myself using a watering can to carry water to the ducks pen.
The hose had frozen solid, a fact I discovered as I knelt in the frosty grass and leaned through the fence to turn on the tap – only to have the hose burst off, covering me in a fine spray of icy water. We won’t talk about how I tried (and failed) to reattach the hose to the tap, leaning through the fence at a right angle to the ground, supported by a strand of wire under my belly and unable to raise my head due to the live electric wires running a few inches above my head.
So there I was, stuck half on my property and half on the farm, cows watching me intently as I tried to wrestle an ice filled hose into submission.
After the first 3 fingers on my right hand had gone numb, I gave it up as a bad joke and carefully extracted myself from my perilous position.
I am proud to say I didn’t electrocute myself even a little. Which is good, because the position I was in, it would have been doubtful that I would have been able to stop electrocuting myself once started and I’m not sure that would have been any fun.
The hose dripped a little at my feet and so I kicked it. Stupid frozen thing. It retaliated by merely crunching, like a hose full of ice is apt to do.
And so I gave up and went to get the watering can instead.
There is a bathtub at the back of our garden fence, full of water. Likely a few more weeks will see it full of frog spawn, but at this point, I use it for animal water when the hoses are too frozen to work properly.
I found the watering can and headed to the bathtub, only to find it full of ice. Thick ice.
I smashed the ice with the watering can (ha! take that winter!) and then discovered that the ice was too thick to get the watering can in still, despite the smashing.
That is when I told myself, it takes a brave woman to purposely put her hands in iced water. And then I put my hands into the water and picked up the largest chunk of ice and removed it.
By this stage, all of my fingers were numb and I still had water containers to fill.
The watering can was full of ice too, an inch solid block in the bottom of it, but no matter. It was going to get filled dammit, because my warm house was calling me and I was cold.
The ducks peeped at me as I emptied their muddy iceblock that was their clean water the night before and filled up their containers. Done! I was done!
Only I wasn’t, because I hadn’t fed them yet and they were looking at me reproachfully.
I practically skipped back to the house to grab wheat, figuring faster was better.
I was brave when I put my hand into the frozen water.
I was even braver when I plunged my already numb hands into frozen wheat as I scattered it around so no one got bullied as they ate.
For the record, wheat is bitterly cold when it’s been outside all night and you should probably not put your hands in it.
I raced back to the house and fumbled my way inside, only to plunge my hands into lukewarm water.
Ow ow ow ow ow.
Defrosting hurts.
Since Susie died, I find myself sitting on the dogs home website more often than not, looking at the imploring eyes of the dogs there. When we first moved in here and wanted a dog, that’s where we went. We came home with a 7 week old wiggling puppy, Seven.
When we wanted a second dog, we looked at the dogs home again, but there wasn’t anything really suitable – then Susie sort of fell into our laps and then we were done.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about the dogs there, the friendly happy dogs who pressed themselves against the edges of their cages hoping for some love, or the dogs out walking who were just so happy to see people and be walked.
The dogs home is actually brilliantly set up, with runs and play areas, and with volunteers who walk dogs all day.
Doesn’t mean it’s a place that you would want to live there, however.
So, Susie died and I can’t stop thinking about another dog.
We’ll get there eventually, I know this. Nathan isn’t ready for another dog yet and my common sense is kicking in, knowing that if we’re going to bring home a new dog, then Spring is a better time to be doing it than Winter.
And I keep watching the photos of the dogs, seeing most disappear and new ones appear and I’m happy that someone out there has adopted a dog that I feel so sorry for.
When we’re ready, we’ll be bringing home a dog and giving them a second chance. A new life with property to play on and children to run with.
Seven needs a new playmate and my heart aches for all the abandoned dogs out there.
Susie as a puppy. I still miss her.
Seven, our happy dog. She would love a playmate.
Pedigree are currently running an adoption drive, raising awareness about the thousands of dogs stuck in dogs homes and RSPCA’s across the country. All this wonderful family potential, going to waste, pining up against a cage door, hoping for someone to pat them as they walk past.
It’s no life for a dog.
Pedigree have also offered to donate 1 bowl of dogfood for every person who ‘Likes’ their page on Facebook. I did. And then I made Nathan like it too.
Because until I can bring home another dog from the dogs home, I’m going to continue to watch the website, seeing the photos come and go and feeling bad the whole time.
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Pedigree are currently running a campaign and I was invited to take part, however this is not a sponsored post and I was not paid.