Wet feet...

One day I will learn not to open the pig's grain bucket lid so it doesn't shower my feet with cold water. I know. cold water banishes impure thoughts. It also makes for wet socks if you have been stupid enough to walk out there in a pair of crocs. Fairy is of course a spoiled pig (there is a huge pot of boiled pig tucker made for her every days and kept in the fridge) but fears that I will become so attached she won't be be bacon are not that likely. She doesn't have any interest in me except as food bringer, and possibly food (yes, she tried a few tastes, just to check. You have to watch her.). She's even less sociable than Percy, who would come and be scratched. She's less of a digger than he was, but otherwise not quite as friendly, and he was not really the local charmer.

New chooks are still not laying - although they will now take grain and sunflower seeds out of my hand. I should have held off doing the old ones in.

Barbs is away in Lonnie for Synod, and I am being a batchelor. This involves dirtying as few pots as possible, and being mobbed by the cats every time they see me. Not that they need people or anything. They're just... not used to the lack of room service and lap space.

Peter's container arrived along with a lot of my stuff yestyerday, so it and I spent some time getting re-aquainted. That's what you call being stuck in tight corners and lifting heavy things isn't it? Anyway, it is a huge saving on many things, as well as getting us more bits towards being truly self-sufficient and independent. There is a second-hand spear-gun I can't wait to try (but the rubber has died, have ordered more). It's a bit like Aladin's cave only with more dust from the insulation. You never know what treasure is next to emerge...

Still harvesting a few tomatoes, and really really must uproot them... fennl seedlings are coming up furiouso, and so is the garlic.