mice

There is one, possibly two, mice trapped in the wash-house cupboard. For the millionth time I think that I should buy a really decent torch and hide it from everyone else so I can properly investigate these things and deal to them late at night, without the assistance of my toddling daughter.

It is raining for the eighth time this week. It is only Tuesday. If I were to scientifically test the truth of this apparent hyperbole, it may turn out there have been more than seven periods of rainfall before now and since Sunday morning.

If my brain would function at a higher level than right now, then I would do a post rounding up the many blogs I have discovered in recent months written by New Zealand women that I enjoy. For the moment I'll just say how much I've enjoyed reading of other kiwi women gardening, crafting, thinking. The showcase will have to wait.

Onion weed. It is quite juicy. I think that it might not flourish in drought-prone areas.

Local shopping. I bought a piece of pork roast and a bag of soup bones from Jonesy the butcher. I told him (not for the first time nor for the last) that he is quite precious. We have lost our fish shop here in Smallwettown. I got the impression that many people are telling him this. No pressure Jonesy, only your butchery is on the market and we can't bear for you to go.

Nice piece of pork. Extravagant, even more so when I poured a 500ml bottle of cream into the pasta sacue pan and made silverbeet (home grown of COURSE) and pork pasta sauce. But we do have lots of pork left for dinner tomorrow night and lunches tomorrow.

Colloidal silver. I must read again how this works, or what the claims for it working explain. It does seem to be doing great things for my son's skin.

Holiday. We are going to visit my grandparents (how truly wonderful is that? I am 36 and I still have grandparents. Indeed I have grandparents who are still working and running their own lives.) next week for a few days. I'll be fitting in a visit to one of my aunts who is an ace gardener and poultry enthusiast extraordinaire. Last year when we visited, we drove up the drive to the farm they moved to the year before and saw on one side my uncle's vintage tractor collection and on the other many, probably hundreds, of chooks. Then in the house we watched the newest kittens beginning to explore. Enid Blyton, I've found your muse.