Despite the enormous attractions of the chicken tractor book Sue tried to lead me astray with, and the fact that Bill was catching trevally down at the wharf, today was largely devoted to moving the book on 3K more. And B making our first batch of yoghurt cottage cheese, which has been strung up until it goes Awey... or at least until the wey goes away. It's hanging in a cheese-cloth, from a hook in the ceiling, draining, losing its wey...
We(ie B) also made a batch of flavoured yoghurt (packet add water)with the easy yo device. Hmm. Well, it tastes more like curds and wey, than Yoghurt, or Jogurt or yo gert or even Yo ho ho. Perhaps some rum would improve it (I gather if you drink enough of it, rum improves almost anything except the next day). And, as could only happen on Flinders, we got a call this afternoon from the local Post office saying "I've got a parcel here that says keep refrigerated. It's hot today and I am worried about it." It was our yoghurt culture, (with two tiny ice packs) enough culture to make yoghurt bridge to South America, or to make me cultured (actually no, but that's because I absorb culture like I absorb dance. And I am to dance what a tyrannosaurus is to lace-making.)
Scottish Dancing tonight was rather full of the D team (ie Me) and three new people. Some of the dances resembled brownian motion. Others were a good example of inertial dithering. You had know idea there was that much science in this, did you?
And hopefully our James will be here tomorrow. We can't wait to see our boy.