Is anyone else a teensy tiny little bit “SICK TO BLOODY DEATH” of the soccer yet? Yes “SOCCER!” that’s what it’s called here in Australia. NOT football…just soccer. I will accept “U.K. Football” but every time I head to my old mate Google these days I have to wade through a plethora of letters all doing a Mexican salute or waving some countries flag and if you have 10 pages open like I do at any given time, that’s a whole LOT of Mexican waves to wade through every time you want to make a simple search. Angst abated and shared now. An angst shared is an angst halved. No bright comments Ms Jessy Twinn by the way. You have been infested with the soccer bug and are NOT to be listened to OR encouraged in your crazy soccer watching ventures (and neither is Steve…just sayin’ 😉 )
I love my shiny-shiny aluminium crochet hook. I am probably going to get Alzheimers from it but at least I will go out hooking. Happy days! 😉
Here’s a close up of the wool and my AMAZING hooky ability to do a stitch that I don’t even know the name for. I completely and utterly love how fast this is working up as I am using 2 strands of wool to crochet it and it is incredibly thick and heavy which means that it will probably end up on the floor as a rug more than on my knees as an afghan
It’s probably 3/4 done now…afghan…rug…tablecloth, whatever this ends up as, crochet is therapy for narfs and soothes my inner savage beasts of which I have many…all of them masquerading as muses
I have reached the three quarter mark of my very thick, doubled wool crocheted afghan for draping casually over my knees when I am sitting in frigid early morning conditions before Brunhilda gets around to warming up the kitchen with her first hot toasty logs of the day. After I move all of the potted babies that we have left in our stash to either side of the driveway (I may or may NOT get back to why at some point in this post…) I plan on spending the rest of the day finishing off my afghan. Yesterday was 1C until 2pm and today it is a heatwave…4C and so that afghan would be most appreciated around about now and there is nothing more likely to get narf7 to do something than an immediate pressing need
These are some of the 40 orphaned babies that the quoll left motherless working methodically through my pile of horse poo and oak leaves prior to Stevie-boys mass haul of dung on Saturday that resulted in a whole lot more dung on top of this pile and a tired narf from having to shovel it all up and back in between his deliveries in order to keep it in a pile and not a long swathe that took over the driveway. We can’t deposit it around the back of the house near Sanctuary (my veggie garden) as there is a large log pile in the way so for now, this is where the dung pile lives and coincidentally, where my chickens can be found at most times of the day
The pile is significantly higher here as Stevie-boy has finished depositing masses of dung and you can see most of the blueberries that we scored up to their little rootlets in spent dung. There IS a rooster in this image but it’s not Mr “X”, its Mr Big Yin the head honcho of the gang with some of his posse out to scrape the pile flat. If you look closely you can see Ms ducky, Mr Big Yin’s bestie, up on top of the pile tunnel mining for worms
I took this photo today. All of the blueberries are here now, I have a stack of horse poo and oak leaves to rake up from the driveway and we still have a large pile of wood blocking our pathway up to the back of the house but at least we have this luscious pile of garden happiness and as we all know, possession is 9/10th’s of the law! By the way. Mr “X” must have decided that it has knobs on hanging out under the deck on a 1C morning and wisely moved his feathery derriere back into the coop with the rest of the flock last night. I could hear him crowing from the distance but thats AOK by me…right under the deck was wearing a bit thin especially when Steve told me that he had been crowing since 12am!
Mr “X” the rooster is crowing under the deck. I cleaned out the hen coop on the weekend and won’t tell you how long it has been since I last did it aside to say that some of the straw had trilobites in it. A short aside…if you are putting off something that you really don’t want to do, you might be surprised to find that inside your head it is a whole lot worse of a task than what it actually is outside your head in the clear present danger of the day…just sayin’ 😉 After mucking out the hen house I pulled a large ex oil container thingo out that we had been stashing in the coop. We had visions of storing grain in it as it is huge, metal and has a lid but who could afford that much grain?! A hen has died down behind it and another one almost did the same thing. We pulled it out from the wall at that stage but when I decided to give myself a hernia and pull it out of the coop entirely when cleaning the coop out (Steve was off getting his own particular version of a hernia digging out a HUGE blueberry bush) I discovered that a rooster was lodged down the back of it. This thing has a BIG hunger for chickens! The rooster was fine aside from being hungry and somewhat square shaped after his ordeal and the chook coop is nice and clean now. What has this got to do with Mr “X”? Well he used to sleep on top of this drum and now he is homeless…well, that isn’t strictly true, he is under the deck crowing! I called him Mr “X” not because of his stealth in avoiding us when we locked his relatives into the coop last night but more because it is a most accurate description of him for he is soon to be an ex-rooster…nuff said!
The potted babies deposited to the side of the driveway at the side of the house and the (offending) tank in the background that we have to roll to the house (behind where I am taking the photo)…this could be VERY interesting folks 😉
I just read a post about my sister Pinky saving a pod of Dutch iris bulbs from oblivion and realised that among my Jerusalem artichokes I had inadvertently uprooted a couple of little bulbs as well. I am going to plant them out so that they get a new lease on life on Serendipity Farm. Isn’t nature the bomb? 🙂
Ok so I was hauling those potted plants to one side of the driveway back in paragraph 2…it took me a while that’s why I didn’t mention it till now. We are going to roll our large water tank into place this weekend which involves first moving the potted plants (tick, just spent the afternoon doing…) and then deconstructing the perimeter fence that acts as an Earl protective shield against Earl and the rest of the world. As you can imagine, we need to make sure that Mr E can’t just sidle off while we are rolling 10 000 litre water tanks with impunity so we have to ensure that we shut the 2 gates that we situated halfway up each of the side decks…we might not be pretty but we ARE clever and we envisaged a day when we might want to confine the dogs to either the back or the front of the house and these gates have been invaluable. Earl and Bezial will have to stay on the deck while we remove this segment of fence but prior to all of this is narf7 entering the cavernous gaping mouth of the water tank. Yup. I have to crawl inside and remove the pump housing so that we can roll the tank rather than just drag it. Stevie-boy’s shoulders are too big for him to fit inside even though he has slim hips so poor fat hipped narf7 has to fit her thin shoulders into the water tank hole at the top of the tank and attempt to squeeze that rotund derrière after them
This is my niece Sabrina, she of the rake riding persuasion in my last blog post saying goodbye to her Tasmanian fan club
Sad number 2 fan
Even sadder number 1 fan
This could range from “interesting” to “hilarious” depending on several factors the chief one being my derrière actually fitting into said hole and NOT getting stuck which would indeed be hilarious for you guys but not so much for narf7 who would have to be greased up and shoved like a champagne cork. Once inside (shudder…) I will remove the pump housing and then exit with ease (I am ever the optimist…) and Stevie-boy and I will roll said 10 000 litre water tank up the driveway, through the hole in the fence and tip it upright into place with quintessential ease. No, I don’t believe it will be that easy either but lets just see what happens. At the very least it will make for some interesting blog images…
My last (1kg) jar of pumpkin and date butter that has been gracing my breakfast buckwheat porridge since I made it
This mornings large (vat) stockpot of buckwheat porridge being materialised to a hungry narf after a long haul behind a short dog in the mist. This makes 6 breakfasts for a hungry narf that can be grabbed as soon as I get in from my morning walk and heated to my little hearts content with pumpkin and date butter and served with homemade sesame milk. The perfect way to start my day 🙂
Lucky I am a bowl freak and have so many of them isn’t it Stevie-boy and you said I should get rid of some of them! “Pfft!”
I am just about to make some more pumpkin, date and apple butter to use up the apples that turned from crispy to soft and that need to be used. Making fruit butter is a good way to use up soft or slightly old fruit as it tends to be quite sweet which means you don’t need sugar, especially if you use dates like I do. I still haven’t made the tahini and the coconut butter but I did find a recipe for how to make smooth lump free coconut butter on Pinterest today so perhaps that was a bonus. Once I make the tahini and coconut butter I can make pumpkin, date and apple fudge with a bit of cinnamon and a lot of anticipation.
These are jeans…this is Beartato in the jeans…it was our photoshopped rendition of the son-and-heirs rear jeans pockets stuffed with baby potatoes freshly dug from sanctuary (my veggie garden) on Sunday when they dropped by on an impromptu visit. The only thing better than a rear pocket or two full of fresh baby potatoes is Beartato in your pocket…
No Beartato here but a whole lot of apples that I didn’t get around to eating before they turned a bit mealy and a lot fragrant. They are going to be made into pumpkin, date and apple butter
Sorry about the reblogs this week but sometimes you just have to make a stand for what you believe in and seeing that book for free was too good to not reblog and share the love around. I love the concept of being generous for generosities sake, not expecting anything in return, just giving out to the universe and expecting that when you are in need, the universe will give back. I think that takes the expectation and the frustration and resentment out of expecting the recipient of your generosity to return the favour/gift which at the end of the day isn’t really generosity, it’s more a negotiation. It’s a brave step to let go of things and just let the universe dish it out to whoever needs it the most. The more we learn to be generous the better off we will be.
I am trying to do what Mr Bean did with his Steak Tartar (don’t ask, just go look it up on Youtube if you don’t know what I am talking about 😉 ) and thousands of kids try to do with their broccoli every day…spreading the pumpkins around so that they don’t look like so many…
Only 3 small ones! See? (and the 2 large ones in the laundry sink but we won’t think about them right now…)
I have been spending my early mornings wandering in the mist with Earl and contemplating my navel whilst building myself a pair of built-up platform shoes that Mr Herman Munster would be extremely proud of. The council, in all of their wisdom, has decided that now is the perfect time to grade all of the road verges back to soil and when you grade road verges in winter you are actually grading them back to purest mud. As a narf who is prone to walking on road verges this ranges from mildly annoying to dangerous, especially when wandering in the mist. Add cars that forgot to put on their headlights this morning and the deafening quality of fog and simply stepping out onto our driveway is a risk factor. Luckily Earl has a habit of dragging me into ditches so I tend not to be in harm’s way but until the fog clears it’s a strange and eerie world that the early morning narf inhabits
I am outing myself here…I admit it…I am a wool hoarder…a wool AND a bowl hoarder. We can’t all be perfect (or entirely sane)…
While I am at it (and nicely segueing and deflecting the attention away from my own vice in the process…) I am outing Stevie-boy as well. People might wonder why he is such a happy-go-lucky scamp well HERE is part of the reason why. This box of “goodies” is stashed in his music room because it won’t all fit in his treat box. Stevie-boy is on a permanent sugar and preservative high that knows NO boundaries and when coupled with his fetish for wine we make quite a hoarding, guzzling couple. Just be thankful that we live out in the sticks and away from society or you might have to read about us in the papers 😉
Another one of Stevie-boys fetishes…he LOVES those solar groovers that have a teeny little solar panel on the front of them that gives them the energy to wave happily at anyone that wanders past. This is Stevie-boys music room window and yes…that garden gnome IS giving you 2 fingers…we breed them bolshie around here 😉
I spend about an hour and a half thinking about the state of the world, the meaning of life (those built up platform shoes and how the HECK I am going to get all of that mud off prior to entering the house) and by the time Earl hauls me back up our steep driveway my brain is satiated and saturated with thought and I am ready for breakfast and a rest. I have decided that I am going to spend this afternoon crocheting my afghan and seeing if I can get close to completing it as I really want to start on my Bavarian crochet lessons before everyone else who has been dabbling in the Bavarian arts forgets how to do the stitch and isn’t available to help a stranded narf in her hour of need so as I have been taxing your reading ability and your stamina of late I might just throw you a curve ball today and finish this post right here…right now. I hope that you all have a wonderful week ahead of you full of purpose, potential and actualities and that by the time we next break metaphorical bread together you will be satiated by all of that wonderful experience that has passed under your bridges in the last week. Me…I will just be happy if I get this afghan finished and my derrière doesn’t get stuck in that rainwater tank but if you have greater aspirations, knock yourselves out 🙂