Despite my bad moods of late, something quite exciting arrived here yesterday...
our first three chickens!
What a grumpy grumpy mama I've been. Can't think why. Perhaps it's because each time I turn around those two naughty little boyks are up to something: waggling naked body parts off the top deck of our house to passing traffic; breaking my key ring and scattering my keys around the house without telling me; stealing chocolate chip cookies before I've even gotten out of bed in the morning.
Or perhaps it was the disrobing of raincoats and gumboots whilst still actually out in the rain so that everything became wet inside and out and muddy all over. It could have been the way they scattered various precious family christmas decorations over the floor; waking me in the middle of the night to tell me their bed is wet; demanding food all day. Or perhaps it was their refusal to cease jumping in and out of other people's boats, untying ropes, hauling in anchors and letting boats drift around in the water!
I feel like I'm a crazy woman. The rain looks beautiful, it really does. The water and bush surrounding us is glistening. But our water tanks are actually overflowing (what does one do when one's water tank overflows??) and when the boys play outside I despair at the croup that may descend on us at midnight. Ha! That's it! Tomorrow I'll fill the bath (and it's a BIG bath!) and let them play in that. It may not be as satisfying as the boats down at the jetty but it might just buy me half an hour of peace. Ahhhh.
Where was I? O, yes. The chookies. So, you see, I think to be a truly crazy woman - but also deeply satisfied - a woman needs chooks. Just as my house was made complete with a big timber table for craft, my backyard is almost complete with the addition of chooks.
We bought our chooks from a delightful local nursery [New Leaf in Elanora Heights] which even had a notice board for chook natural remedies. Then off we set for the ferry - a crazy woman armed with a cat cage holding our 3 new precious girls, 3 bags of feed, a feeder, 2 children who won't listen to a word I say when it comes to boating and ferry safety, 2 school bags and a life jacket. And it was raining. O and I was also carrying a pot of flowers. Did I mention "craaaaazy woman"?
I'm not an expert on the psychology of chooks (yet) so I'm peering into the chook pen every now and then, clucking away, trying to bond with my girls - make them feel at home. I've added garlic to their drinking water (to boost their immune systems), generously thrown in some rice porridge and peaches and homemade multigrain bread. I've lovingly tied a tarp' over their pen, just to ensure that they don't get too soggy. And I've discovered that Noah and Chooch already know how to handle chooks, much better than I. My 4 year old gave me a lesson (he's been talking to chooks for a year already, Noah for 4!). As annoying as I'm finding them today, those boys still warm my heart when they have a chook tucked under their arm (or when they do breast-stroke at swimming).
Noah has named his girl Mercedes, after his favourite girl in 6th class.
Choochie named his Charlotte (possibly a reference to Charlotte's web?).
And the third? Well, the Zimbabwean and I have named her Ruby Tuesday Nandos. There's something comforting in that name for me. Perhaps it's just putting a name to the kind of crazy I'm feeling this week. When I call her ["here Bokbokbok... Ruby Tuesday Nandos chook chook chookieeeee!"] I really do feel like I'm letting my freak flag fly.
(I promise there will be photos soon)
our first three chickens!
What a grumpy grumpy mama I've been. Can't think why. Perhaps it's because each time I turn around those two naughty little boyks are up to something: waggling naked body parts off the top deck of our house to passing traffic; breaking my key ring and scattering my keys around the house without telling me; stealing chocolate chip cookies before I've even gotten out of bed in the morning.
Or perhaps it was the disrobing of raincoats and gumboots whilst still actually out in the rain so that everything became wet inside and out and muddy all over. It could have been the way they scattered various precious family christmas decorations over the floor; waking me in the middle of the night to tell me their bed is wet; demanding food all day. Or perhaps it was their refusal to cease jumping in and out of other people's boats, untying ropes, hauling in anchors and letting boats drift around in the water!
I feel like I'm a crazy woman. The rain looks beautiful, it really does. The water and bush surrounding us is glistening. But our water tanks are actually overflowing (what does one do when one's water tank overflows??) and when the boys play outside I despair at the croup that may descend on us at midnight. Ha! That's it! Tomorrow I'll fill the bath (and it's a BIG bath!) and let them play in that. It may not be as satisfying as the boats down at the jetty but it might just buy me half an hour of peace. Ahhhh.
Where was I? O, yes. The chookies. So, you see, I think to be a truly crazy woman - but also deeply satisfied - a woman needs chooks. Just as my house was made complete with a big timber table for craft, my backyard is almost complete with the addition of chooks.
We bought our chooks from a delightful local nursery [New Leaf in Elanora Heights] which even had a notice board for chook natural remedies. Then off we set for the ferry - a crazy woman armed with a cat cage holding our 3 new precious girls, 3 bags of feed, a feeder, 2 children who won't listen to a word I say when it comes to boating and ferry safety, 2 school bags and a life jacket. And it was raining. O and I was also carrying a pot of flowers. Did I mention "craaaaazy woman"?
I'm not an expert on the psychology of chooks (yet) so I'm peering into the chook pen every now and then, clucking away, trying to bond with my girls - make them feel at home. I've added garlic to their drinking water (to boost their immune systems), generously thrown in some rice porridge and peaches and homemade multigrain bread. I've lovingly tied a tarp' over their pen, just to ensure that they don't get too soggy. And I've discovered that Noah and Chooch already know how to handle chooks, much better than I. My 4 year old gave me a lesson (he's been talking to chooks for a year already, Noah for 4!). As annoying as I'm finding them today, those boys still warm my heart when they have a chook tucked under their arm (or when they do breast-stroke at swimming).
Noah has named his girl Mercedes, after his favourite girl in 6th class.
Choochie named his Charlotte (possibly a reference to Charlotte's web?).
And the third? Well, the Zimbabwean and I have named her Ruby Tuesday Nandos. There's something comforting in that name for me. Perhaps it's just putting a name to the kind of crazy I'm feeling this week. When I call her ["here Bokbokbok... Ruby Tuesday Nandos chook chook chookieeeee!"] I really do feel like I'm letting my freak flag fly.
(I promise there will be photos soon)
mmm - i love nandos!
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