On the weekend we bought ore of these new-fangled things:
But since our grass looks like this:
…we won’t need to use it for a while.
Bushfires threaten today. It’s going to be very hot and the wind is predicted to get up. The place is tinder dry and we only need one dickhead to chuck a cigarette butt out their car window, or one of the local, bored kids to take it into their head to deliberately light a fire and we’ll have to get busy and decide whether to go or stay. I’d rather pretend it’ll never happen here and concentrate on growing more things.
So far this:
…has become this…
…and this…
…has become this…
…and other things are just growing themselves…
The chickens continue to supply us with eggs, all except Esme. Esme is now beyond the age of laying, being a grand 7 years of age and grows more and more recalcitrant. She has always free-ranged whether locked up or not; she always finds a way out and wanders around the property dust-bathing herself on the driveway and hunkering down under the bushes in the garden in the heat of the day. But, like a rebellious teenager, she has started staying out all night! She did this once when my husband was away adventuring in the Himalayas. She must have felt particularly determined to challenge the boundaries with one parent away. On finding her missing from the line up on the roost that night, I despaired that she had finally been taken by an evil goanna. But she turned up in the coop next morning as thought nothing had happened. Phew!
But last night my husband went to lock them up and came up reporting that Esme was once again missing. After dinner I took my torch and Maggie and I went searching for her in the dark bush. There was no sign of her except for a few dark feathers at the entrance to the coop. Again, I thought her luck must have finally run out. She had been behaving strangely all day, hanging around and making weird noises at me. Maybe she was trying to tell me something?
But I went down this morning and there she was standing outside the coop preening herself! She looked at us as though, “What?” and kept on preening her feathers like a conceited teenager. She then walked to the gate as though insolently demanding I open it for her–which I did–and hurried in and into the shed for some breakfast. When I went down later with the scraps she was nowhere to be found again. I called her but she didn’t come. I went for a walk around the property but can’t find her anywhere. The weather is warming up and the reptiles will be on the move, but I just have to assume that Esme will continue to elude them. And if a bushfire comes, no doubt she’ll find somewhere safe.
thiskobblecreeklife 