the week that dragged me down

Its been an interesting week.
How many things can go wrong in one week do you think?
Lets see… I could have a broken stove at my house in Fentonbury. I could have a broken pipe at my house in Fentonbury… I could lose my car keys, car parked right in the gateway in the driveway so no way to get out using the ute to pick up poor long suffering Wayne, waiting at McDonalds. It could take me 40 minutes to locate my keys (behind the mudroom door) in the dark, in the yard, in the grooming room, in the carport, in the horse feed room. Even IN the horse feed. Then to top off a great week, we could have training at work today. All day. 
There’s a Saturday I won’t get back.
Sigh.
I’m so very very tired. Last night I went to bed at 8.30pm.   
Ok. Its not all bad.
Training was actually fun. I love that stuff… looking at deadly spiders (in jars of course) and my first blue ringed octopus, learning how to treat bites, what to do when someone’s guts are hanging out, or they have an axe embedded in their head. 
Those things are handy to know.
Then afterwards, on the way home I stopped in at The Good Guys (electrical store) armed with a print-out of the cooktop I need for Fentonbury at the cheapest price I could find it online. They matched the price and are ordering it in for me.
See, of course the house in Fentonbury would have a cooktop of an unusual size and shape. No choices. Only one model to be found anywhere.
And tonight I called our wonderful plumber and begged him to travel about 2 hours from where he lives to go see the problem in Fentonbury and fix it. He’s going to go up next week and call me with a plan of action.
Fingers crossed we won’t be eating baked beans for the next few months.
While there, I fell in love with a stove for my kitchen here … ah. Dream on.
Tomorrow is Father’s Day. This year I gave the dogs some money and sent them shopping with strict instructions to a buy non-edible gift so we wouldn’t have a repeat of last year’s stuff up.*
I just wrapped it for them  – they don’t have opposing thumbs and find gift wrapping a bit difficult. (But they can drive into town on their own and buy Dad a wallet! uhuh!)

Hope he likes his new wallet. Its a manly cowboy brown leather one. With a manly brand name “Colorado”. Nice.

They actually had a brand called Fossil… NOT a good idea, I thought. That could so easily be taken the wrong way….

z

* Here’s a photo of last year’s Father’s Day gift.

the grooming room

 
I know, its been a while since I’ve posted and I do apologise from the depths of my heart.

I’ve been busy. In fact, I’ve been so busy I almost forgot to sleep this last weekend.

I kinda got into the ‘zone’ with tidying up the workshop and grooming room, and then my head was buzzing with ideas and plans and projects… sometimes I wish I had a ‘sleep’ button.

So, here’s just some of the stuff I did this past weekend. I decided to rearrange the grooming room to incorporate this big ugly pink thing I got from an op shop a couple of months ago.

(I sort of had to do something with it. It was in DJ’s garage and he’d threatened to do nasty things to me if I didn’t move it soon.)

 
Very pink huh? I had planned to paint it and use it in the office. Or something… I mean, it was cheap. Very cheap. It’d come in handy for somewhere!

It even came complete with all these stickers! ugh. Which wouldn’t come off.

 
Since I wasn’t painting it I didn’t want to spend time scraping or sanding them off. And I was in a hurry to just move it into the grooming room and get it done.

This is what that corner of the grooming room looks like now. Big Pink in the corner holds all the grooming tools and beautifying products. It now has hooks on the side to hold some of my dogs’ fancy collars and hooks off the middle shelf so I can hang the clippers and dremel. And there’s a hook on the wall to hold the dryer hose out of the way.

The other corner holds the bigger grooming table, part of my poodle collection (you can just see them all, clamouring to get out!) and the newest tip shop chair waiting to be make over.

The floor, plain concrete, is covered with rubber tiles under the grooming area – easy to sweep up and nice and comfy underfoot. There’s an old rug on the other side of the room to further insulate the floor.


The other side of the room, on the window side, holds 2 dog beds. Along the wall to the right of the above photo are dog crates, another display cabinet with just as many poodle figurines and dog blankets piled up higher than my head.

When I put Big Pink in the grooming room I moved out a bench, which is now living in the laundry. It works perfectly there – underneath it holds 2 laundry baskets plus 2 grooming/show tool boxes. The top of the bench is a great place to put washing baskets and sort washing. I’m planning to put a couple of shelves in there soon and make that room over a bit.

The other things that were moved were 2 smaller cabinets which are now in the hydrobath room holding towels.

Before you ask to see the rest of the casita, let me remind you that the casita is an old, OLD house… the original farm cottage on our property. It has no foundations as such, and someone somewhere along the line, thought that taking up whatever flooring was in most of the casita and replacing it with concrete was a good idea… It may very well have been a good idea.

If the concrete wasn’t just sitting on the wettest ground this side of the great flood.

So… the rooms with concrete floors are damp. Badly damp. One room is totally unusable. Unless you plan to grow mushrooms. The grooming room isn’t so bad, but its not great either. The hydrobath room and the laundry are … well… lets just say there are patches of concrete which never seem to be totally dry, even when I haven’t washed a dog in a week.

In the front part of the casita, where floors are timber, its great.

However, there are parts of the ceiling which are sagging or totally missing. In the damp areas there are walls with mould. Eeech. Given the floors get so damp in winter, how on earth do you even THINK about fixing the damp walls?

When we first saw this place we dreamed of fixing up the old cottage. It has character. It has baltic pine ceilings (where it has ceilings). But its a real mess, and we don’t have the money to fix its problems.

So, it remains a shed. A grooming room. A dog washing room. A laundry. A workshop. A horse feed room. And a dark gloomy mushroom growing room.

One day, when I’ve patched up holes in walls, replaced missing wall panels, whatever, I might be able to show you areas of rooms, like the laundry. Till then, trust me. It ain’t so pretty!

z

four legged love

Anyone who knows me, knows I love my poodles.

Even DJ has a strong suspicion that in case of fire, I’d get the dogs out of the house before I him.

There’s something just so beautiful about them. I’ve always been a poodle lover. From the first time I ever saw a photo of a toy poodle. Then, after reading Jacqueline Suzanne’s Every Night Josephine, I was hooked forever.

Unless you’ve had a poodle you probably have no idea what I’m talking about, but let me just say – every man I’ve had in my life who ‘poo-poohed’ at the thought of poodles, fell in love with them. At the end of any relationship I’ve had since having poodles in my life, it was the poodles the guy was sorry to leave behind. (sniff).

For myself, I love their beauty. Their elegance and grace, their humour and energy and the way they make me laugh. Feeling their curls under my hands is enough to calm me if I’m stressed and lift my spirits if I’m down.

The fact that they have no doggy smell and they don’t shed is a definite bonus! More grooming, but less vacuuming. Gotta love that.

I’m never lonely with poodles in my life.

The day I held a toy poodle named Scooter in my hands when I lived in Melbourne, far far from any family, I knew I was no longer alone. With him I had my own family.

Since then I’ve never been without a poodle in my life. More than one usually. I currently have only Montana and Romeo, both of whom were born in my bedroom.

All dogs are beautiful I just love dogs. I see the heart in all of them, not just poodles. But my babies are my family and I love them a LOT… so please forgive my ‘doting mother’ ramble.


On Monday we went for a walk around the paddocks to check things out. We took the dogs with us. Montana and Romeo were thrilled. They ran down the driveway first, checking out the new smells (like the horse poop…)

Then in the bottom paddock, leaping over the snowdrops. This paddock fills up with snowdrops and daffodils every year.

So pretty!

Barney can mostly keep up with the poodles.

Mischa stuck near us. She’s too slow to run with the dogs with longer legs.

A day ‘on the land’ with the dogs and horses… my idea of heaven!


I’ll leave you with a fun little pipecleaner poodle I made a while ago.


It looks like its wearing a turban. 🙂

z

the poodles redecorate


Seems the poodles have gotten into the spirit of things around here and decided to help mom with her work at making the farm a dream home. 

They’ve been spending their days in the casita, in the grooming room and laundry, most days lately when we go to work.

Why?

You try coming home tired and finding poodles covered in mud to their eyebrows two nights in a row.

Sigh.

Since we moved to the farm they’ve generally had it really easy. They get the run of the yard while we’re at work most of the year. Its only this time of year (the wettest time), and on the odd very wet day during other times, that they get locked up during the day.

I give them some ‘special left alone time’ toys, close the door and go to work, secure in the knowledge that they’re safe and comfy, dry and not muddy while I slave away at work.

Today I got home to find they’d done some redecorating while I was at work.

I guess its only to be expected. They were raised around rennovations, building, power tools and revolving furniture. It comes naturally to them.

Today, they decided to put a new door (window?) in the toilet in the casita. We need a toilet with a view.

Or maybe they were trying to dig their way to freedom.

I don’t know. All I know is that a section of wall which used to have plaster on it is now just exposed studs. And Romeo was sporting a suspicious ring of white plaster dust around his nose…

Well, I’m not upset. That toilet is disgusting. Those walls are so damp Marie Curie would feel at home in there.

Anyway, I’m really looking forward to this weekend. I really want to do some work in the casita – mainly in the laundry area and grooming room. Some re-arranging. Some tidying up. Making the spaces more practical and user friendly.

And to confuse DJ next time he goes in there.

He really hates it when I move furniture.

Maybe I can get the poodles do more demolition work for me? hmmm?

z

link parties & another addiction

I’m so new to this blogging/linking/inspiration/mutual admiration society thing, that I’m not sure how to go about doing this stuff. However, I have decided to actually take part in link parties cause, frankly, I like getting comments which say how much someone enjoyed seeing one of my projects.

And cause I am, in fact, a bit of a show off.

Admiration and praise makes me puff up my chest and strut around like a rooster overseeing his harem till something brings me crashing back down to earth.

Like poodles covered in mud who need hosing down before they can come into the house.

And the living room, covered in not-quite-washed-off muddy footprints.

Such is life.

But back to the issue at hand.

I told myself that I blogged to share stuff and have fun. I wasn’t going to concentrate on building a huge following and making money from my blog.

Sure, it’d be nice if someone came along and said “hey, I like your blog, here’s a bundle of money to keep it going”, but this is real life and that ain’t gonna happen.

So I blog for my own enjoyment – to share my life and to meet new people.

I do not have a problem! I can stop any time I want!

Its just that I don’t want to.

I went to bed last night sure that my only ‘vice’ was an addiction to junking… but it turns out I’m also addicted to blogging.

I blame my mother.

(Doesn’t it always come down to blaming mom?)

She instilled in me a need to have a neat, clean and tidy house.

I failed at that. But I do try to make my home look beautiful in my own way by making and altering things I find to give it character.

I’m proud of the things I make, and who said showing off is a bad thing?

Actors make a living out of it.

So do politicians.

Anyway, my name is Zefi and I’m addicted to junking and blogging.

There. Its out in the open for the world to see.

z

Oh, I forgot to mention, I linked my red box(es) blog to the colour link party above. Go check it out.

where’s dinner and do you have regrets?

Where’s dinner?
Do you ever regret throwing something(s) way? It isn’t something I think of often, but lately something I read reminded me of stuff I threw out many years ago which I now feel a bit bad about.
Not the photos of a particular ex-boyfriend…  I can live without that memory.
No, I don’t regret that. But there are some small things that I do regret throwing out.
You know how, when you’re in love and everything seems like it’ll last forever, this is the man of your dreams, the white picket fence looms in the future and your rose tinted glasses haven’t yet come off and been crushed underfoot? At that point in a relationship you think you want to erase all the previous loves of your life and begin anew. Wipe the slate clean so to speak.
So you throw away all those old love letters you cherished for years. The ones from your first boyfriend who you thought was SO romantic (till you realised that most of his letters were simply lyrics from his favourite songs). Or the great passionate summer romance you had where the guy could only speak french and italian and who’s letters you had to read with the assistance of a dictionary or a friend who spoke italian.
And the gifts. You decide you can live without that little heart charm given to you by the man you believed would be your life partner. Or the sweatshirt a two-timing louse gave you from Disneyland, telling you that he wore it while visiting there and felt like you had your arms around him. 
Uhuh.
You toss these things out, without a thought, without regrets. You give away the charm or drop clothing into the brotherhood bin.
(Now you kick yourself for not selling the stuff and making a quick buck out of it, but you never worked that way.)
No. The stuff I regret throwing away were things given to me by people (men) who I wasn’t actually involved with – thus somehow the stuff they gave me was more genuine. Untainted. And I still threw it away.
One of those things was a painting. A watercolour given to me by a french boy I met when I was in Paris on a school trip at age 16. We sat up all night, in the hostel kitchen where he worked while attending art school, drinking hot chocolate out of huge bowls, and talking – Paris by night outside the window… Then he snuck me out to see his place (a tiny loft) where he didn’t try to seduce me or take advantage of me, but instead gave me a drawing to remember him by and asked for a page from my visual diary to remember me by.
It was so innocent. So exciting! Doesn’t every girl dream of a romantic night in Paris?
Hello? Do you have my dinner?
The other thing was a poem, written to me by a guy I thought was a friend. Who it seems had more feelings for me than I was aware. It was a beautiful, sensitive poem, asking me to give him a chance, to stay in Greece and not return to Australia.
When I thought I was in love with Mr Right, I threw these things out along with old photos and old love letters.
Why would I throw away a painting? Or a poem? They’re art, someone’s hard work and talent.
Yet I did. 
I’ve also thrown away, given away, or sold (not so often) things I’ve grown out of or no longer need. Those items I don’t regret… in general.
I do regret not holding on to my mother’s old clothes however, even after they no longer fitted me. They were beautiful 1960s outfits, mohair twin sets and tweed pedal pushers. Nice.
Well… we can’t keep everything. We have to move on and make space in our home, our lives and our hearts.
And a clean out of the old is good for the soul, right?
Plus, there’s the added advantage that by getting rid of old stuff, you make room for MORE stuff.
Yeah. I like that.
Lets not look at it as throwing things away, but rather as making room for new (old) stuff!
Like these 7in long nails I found at an op shop last week. How wonderful are they? I can already see them as part of a project….
z

do i look like my dog?

We all know how dogs and owners look like eachother, right? Well, so they SAY.

For instance, everyone thinks Winston Churchill had a british bulldog cause he looks like a british bulldog – but in fact he had a poodle!

So, its obviously not true… But there are plenty of people who look like, or have similar characteristics as their dogs.

I always thought it was bull when it came to me and my poodles. We couldn’t be more different! They’re gorgeous, graceful, elegant, sleek, slim, fit, athletic creatures.

I’m not.

They’re high maintenance with their trims. I put off getting my hair done even though I’ve found a bargain basement hairdresser who will cut my hair sitting outside her caravan.

But apparently I’ve been approaching this similarity thing the wrong way entirely.

This morning the subject of dogs and owners came up. Wayne believes its true. He said he could see it with his dogs. Barney is a doofus. Ok. He’s not the prettiest dog around, yeah, he’d accept that too. Mischa has big stomach bones… yep. And both will bowl you over for hugs and affection. (When you scratch Wayne behind his ear he’ll even kick his back leg!)

My dogs? Well… they’re creatures of their own comfort, they listen to no one, they want things their own way and they rule the place. Plus they bark at everything, even when its clearly none of their business.

Hm.

I’m not sure I’m liking where this is going…

z

life as we know it

It’s Saturday night and I have to tell you, I’m disappointed in myself. I had all these plans. I’d made notes and updated my To Do list with things I thought I could finish today, and things I could start…

I had a grooming appointment in the morning, but that wouldn’t slow me down. Then I had another one. That’s ok, I took it in stride. I did the dogs. And the mechanic came over and fixed my car.

By the time I finished the dogs, went and got the paper, checked on the pumpkin soup and had a sandwich, it was 2.30pm. Given it’s dark around 5pm, I didn’t have much daytime left.

I took some photos of projects I had finished. I put a stopper behind the toilet door. I then went to the workshop with the best intentions. I had planned to cut up the old timber I’d put in there to dry out and paint it. Instead I did 5min work on a garden project, had a look around to find things I had on my list – I found some, gave up on others.

That was the extent of my work.

I told myself it was too cold to work out there and I would work in the house. After finishing the soup I decided I was too tired and would be better off watching Grey’s Anatomy, Desperate Housewives and Private Practice. I tape them, then indulge myself watching them the next day minus the ads!

Time in front of the TV aside, I haven’t had an unproductive day, but I just could not get into working. I can’t find the energy today. My sore hands aren’t helping either.

Its really getting me down. I probably have carpal tunnel in my right wrist but that’s not so bad right now. What’s bothering me now is my left hand. I’ve had pain in my left thumb for days now. Before that it was my left middle finger. What’s going on?

I a blood test to see if I had arthritis and the results were negative. Celebrations all round. Then the doc told me that only tells her that I don’t have one type of arthritis. So basically, its still 50% that I may have arthritis.

I’m actually really worried. I work with my hands all the time – grooming, making things, home decorating and rennovating. If I can’t do that stuff any more… its everything I love doing. Having one sore wrist is bad enough.

Maybe having a sore right wrist for so long and compensating with the left is the cause of the problems in my left hand. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m over this and want my hands to be happy and healthy and strong so I can use them!

To be honest, what worries me most is that I may not be able to continue grooming for long if this keeps up. My dream to cut back on work and grooming from home goes up in smoke if my hands are stuffed.

Enough of that. Lets talk about something else.

Its been pretty cold lately. I took these photos the other day when we had the biggest frost this year and the fog didn’t lift all day.

Its quite pretty actually. Wayne, of course, complains about the cold… Here he is getting ready to go out and feed the horses in the morning.

 Remember the beautiful kitchen table I made? Well, this is how it looks most of the time.

Ok. To be fair. Not all the time. Now and then Wayne actually clears off his tools so we can eat on it.

Montana has a bite on her neck. She just won’t learn… She had a go at Mischa and she’s the one with the war wounds. It was all over visiting kids and attention. Sigh. Its not bad, one tooth mark. I just hope it doesn’t become infected like last time.

There have also been more sick and dead wallabies. I walked around the top paddock and found 2 more dead ones down near the creek. Then I found one which died trying to burrow under the little dog house we put by the dam for the ducks.

That was an experience I’d rather never have to repeat, pulling that poor rotting thing out from under there to get rid of it… yeeeech.

There was another one which didn’t seem to pay attention to the barking dogs and stayed out after daylight. I caught it on the 2nd day and took it to the vet. Turns out it was blind and had neurological damage due to toxoplasmosis. They had to put it down.

“Toxoplasmosis is a zoonosis. T. gondii infection can cause abortion and foetal abnormalities in pregnant women and encephalitis in immunocompromised people.”

It causes almost certain death in wallabies, miscarriages in sheep and spells trouble to pregnant women.

Toxo is spread by feral cats. Well, cats in general, but there are a lot of feral cats around. People who have cats and let them roam, or who dump unwanted cats into the bush are responsible for this. Toxo can affect humans and other animals, but native wildlife is much more susceptible to it.

I’m not a cat hater. I just don’t have cats of my own and I don’t want one. I believe cat owners should have to register their cats and neuter them, just like dog owners need to register (and hopefully neuter) their dogs. And cats should have cat runs and not be allowed to roam free.

Toxoplasmosis is a horrible, slow death and wallabies are apparently dying all over the place, the vet said.

Seeing a wallaby out in daylight is a sure sign that something’s wrong.

I do have a good story though. Thankfully. One day last week I saw a very cute little dog on the side of the road. He was a schnauzer mix with a schnauzer haircut. He was timid but I managed to get close and pat him. He had a tag which said Burnie Council on it and no one on the street knew who owned him. He looked like he was about 18-24 months old.

I took him to the local vet and left it to them to chase up his owners. I had to go to work. They called me later in the day. His owners were on holiday in Hobart and he’d gotten out of the place they were staying. They were very happy he was safe and they said to pass on their thanks. I was glad the little boy was reunited with his parents.

So, I’ll leave you with another photo of Montana and Romeo back to back. It makes my heart smile.

z

corrosion

The hakea is flowering! When I planted it I was told it wouldn’t grow in Fentonbury cause of the cold.
Or, if it did grow, it surely wouldn’t flower. Spectacular isn’t it?

Its been a really busy week even though we’ve had a week from work. I can’t explain it. Its just been flat out. I seem to have been out for one thing or another almost every single day, grooming dogs which were either pre-booked or spur of the moment bookings. Looking after animals and Wayne and the house of course.
Somehow, through all that, I managed to do a bit of my own creative stuff so I have a few small projects to share over the next few days when I get a chance to photograph them.
This is where I ask your opinion, oh my few friends and readers, what should I do with the stuff I’m making? Should I sell it on etsy.com or should I try to sell it locally through a shop in town?
Or keep it?
Ok, keeping everything is out of the question. There’s only so much room in our home and I’m actually thinking of what I can get rid of to streamline our lives somewhat.
Some stuff I am tempted to keep and some of it I’m sure I’ll end up keeping cause I won’t be able to part with it. However, a lot of the items I’ve been working on were made with selling in mind. When I make something for a specific purpose for our home, that’s when I’ll keep it.
Or at least that’s the plan.
I’ve been collecting stuff from tip shops and wherever for a while now with the plan to use them to create stuff for our home and to sell. Some of the bits and pieces I’ve collected will be hard for me to part with, but part with them I must.
I already have an etsy shop which I plan to update and revamp – not a big deal given I’ve never really used it!
Anyway, your thoughts on this serious matter are welcome at any time as I share the various projects…
Meanwhile, I just thought I’d give you a quick update at how things are at Wind Dancer Farm. 
Wayne is better. Well, he was better till last night. I think he was so much better compared to how he had been that he overdid it and is now back to being really sore.
The antibiotics for his chest seem to have done a great job and he feels a lot better for them. Here’s to avoiding pneumonia! However he’s back to not being comfortable in any position and pacing. sigh.
The dogs are all well and happy though Mischa and Barney were not too pleased I cornered them and gave them a bath the other day. I also gave Montana and Romeo a much needed clip and wash so right now all the canines in the family are soft and sweet smelling. (Not that the poodles ever smell bad!)
Yesterday morning we did something we rarely do any more. Used to be (back when Wayne was trying to win me over) we’d lie in bed with the dogs in the morning and just ‘be’. I love that time. Since we moved in together and the bank has tied us together, Wayne has felt secure enough to banish the poodles from the bedroom. 
Hmph.
Interesting… notice how the poodles are on MY side of the bed?
But yesterday morning while he was bringing coffee in bed I let Montana and Romeo in and they joined us on the bed. I can’t even begin to express how much I love having them on the bed with us. Cosy. Warm. Secure. Its like everything I love is right there with me.
We’ve also been social this last week. I picked Merrill up from the airport and we had a lovely lunch at a swish restaurant in Salamanca. I visited Ginny and Richard and the lovely Harvey and got to meet his new girlfriend, Tess the kelpie. We were invited to a BBQ at a friend’s house down the road and I scored a leather cowboy hat out of that. 🙂 Chris came up to visit and has been staying over the last few days. Yesterday I made gluhwein (Ginny and Richard were doing Christmas in June, so why not join in?) and Merrill came over and we ate cheese and crackers and watched dvds and laughed loads. 
In fact, maybe that’s why Wayne is sore again. Too much laughing over the last few days.
Chris has a new nickname for Wayne. Over the years Chris has had a growing list of names for Wayne, but this time I think he hit on one that even Wayne had to admit was a gem.
Corrosion.
And its not cause Wayne loves metal and rusty objects…
Its cause he’s like corrosion: he slowly eats through everything.
ROFLOL!!!
You gotta admit, as far as nicknames go, this one’s a keeper!
z


get well soon wayne

Sometimes our clients are so sweet. This is a get well card one of them made for Wayne last week. She was very concerned when he wasn’t at work. Love the ‘sore’ spots all over him.

I gotta tell you, this having to do it all on my own really sucks. Luckily we have the week off or I think I’d be going crazy.

In the morning I have to stoke the fire, feed the horses, remove rugs if its going to be warm enough or sunny. Feed the chickens and ducks (in 4 separate areas since we’ve had to segregate), collect eggs. Then cook breakfast. Then groom dogs if there are any to groom that day, do any washing or tidying that needs doing. Run errands that need doing… I have to bring up more firewood for the day and keep an eye on the fire to make sure it doesn’t go out. I have dishes to wash, including the 5 cups Wayne used to have coffee during the day). I have to cook dinner, feed the dogs, feed the horses, lock up the free range chickens, rug horses if they’ve been unrugged. Then in my spare time I catch up with emails and might get time to work on some of my projects.

As I said, this having to do it all on my own sucks.

Yesterday I went to get chaff on my own. Have you any idea how heavy those big bags are? I had to lever and grunt them up into the ute, almost broke my back doing it. I think I dislocated a thumb as well… Luckily for me my timing was great – I arrived home at the same time as Phil (he’s been chopping wood up the back of our property) was leaving so I did the helpless female act and got him to move the bags into the horse feed room for me. 

I had to buy hay and horse pellets. I used my brain instead of my muscles for that one – I called a friend and asked him to deliver it for us. I dread having to buy another bucket of molasses…

I tried to chop wood for the fire yesterday. I selected a nice piece with a big crack in the middle. All it needed was a well-aimed wack and it would split in two like a watermelon.

I hit that sucker 5 times, in a different spot each time!

The last time I hit it I wedged the axe. Unbelievable.

I’ve been shown how to chop wood. At least how to split wood that’s already got some kind of weak spots. But I’ve always used a block buster and for the most part I managed. Wayne somehow ‘misplaced’ my block buster however so I had to use the axe.

Never again.

I can’t wait for Wayne to get better.

z