WELL we all made it through another day and another night in one piece peacefully. Such a beautiful day yesterday. I have decided that TonTon is actually sleeping with Mama because she is casting such a big shadow.
Do you see? Mama has a dogs tail, someone is using her as shade. How embarrassing!
Daisy has been experimenting with war paint because someone else in the barn yard is taking ALL the attention. It was so warm yesterday that they gathered under the mulberry tree even though it has no leaves yet.
A curious thing happened when I went to take a shot of the bees. They are carrying pollen into the hives at an astonishing rate and I wanted to capture an image of their little legs laden with the good stuff and I found this instead.
I have zoomed in a wee bit for you, which reduces the clarity but we don’t mind this once. Look closely at the bouncer bee. They call them doormen bees but I prefer the word bouncers. The Pub Bouncers in NZ are usually handsome, well dressed gentlemen with good teeth. They stand smiling at the doors of most of the bars at home. They are not doormen, though they will open the door for you. They all carry this underlying animal, barely in check, and their eyes in their smiling faces ceaselessly cruise for battle. You behave yourself in these bars or you will be getting a tap on your shoulder. And it is not a nice tap.
In that shot above, a bouncer has ranged out on his muscly legs to confront a blue fly, obviously the fly is either inappropriately dressed or drunk. I am thinking drunk to even think about getting into The Hive. The Hive is a very private bar. Now look closely, do you see?, There is another even tinier fly sat on top of the blue fly. Is he trying to talk his way in? Does he think that piggy back bugs get in for half price or something? Well, he is not getting in in those shorts and jandals I can tell you that. They are going to be bounced right back out of there, down the steps and onto the footpath. Oh wait. Maybe they are the band!
The Forsythia. Our bees first real feast. I have planted a hedge of these. Next will be the pussy willow, which is about to bloom in the next few days! There is also a little tiny clover flowering already. The farmy is waking up!
And Queenie Wineti has been put out on one of the small meadows because The Bobby (you will remember that any steer we are fattening is called The Bobby and any sheep destined for the freezer are called Murphys), anyway The Bobby is behaving inappropriately. The Bobby has decided to stay a baby all his life. He had to be parted from Daisy because he wanted her to be his mother. I am trying to say this delicately. Suffice to say that he was not breastfed long enough as a baby. So he cannot be with Daisy because he will ruin her udder and now he has had to be parted from Queenie as well. Sigh. He is a nuisance this animal. Not one single brain in his head. Queenie is thrilled, as she gets to go out on the grass. First.
The grass is still too short, it will be at least three weeks before anyone else gets out there but I cannot put Queenie back into a dark barn pen in this glorious weather. Animals need the sun and the space.
We had a lovely wee visit at the Old Folks Home yesterday. The Old Codger was in the physiotherapy room. TonTon was greeted with shrieks of delight both from the staff and the residents. The Old Codger introduced him around with such pride. This is some bright dog, he said. It was the best visit yet. Ton just loved everyone and they cannot get enough of him. He almost wagged his tail right off. His presence turned into corridor gossip. People in wheelchairs were pushing themselves to their doors as we processed past to his room. The Old Codger waving like the Queen in her slow moving wagon. It was great.
As we were leaving, TonTon and I were chased down the corridor by one of the Occupational Therapy person who had heard me laughing with the Old Codger about bringing lambs in. (If Mama ever decides to give birth.) Nothing is private when you are talking to a deaf person. He said he would PAY me to bring more animals in. I said what about a calf or a pig or a chicken. He said he would clear a room. What about a cow I said, thinking of Queenie. How high, he said, moving his hand up and down in the air. I told him they are not house trained you know. He did not even blink. That is fine, he said. Many of these residents came off farms he told me, and most of them have given up animals. Just no ducks he said. Ducks scare me.
Fine and clear again this morning. The dawn chorus this is deafening today. Isn’t life just full of possibilities. And I have to say that I would not have thought of pursuing the therapy dog angle if you had not encouraged me, so YOU get to feel proud too. Now just imagine me trotting two little sheep around the healthy laughing wards! I am off to work now, The Farmy is waking up to another day.