I had a ‘moment’ the other day.
I was sweeping up rat poo into my dustpan as any good country-ish type girl does (Cammo has commited mass genocide and I now feel brave enought to go in and clear up all evidence of their existence) in my grossly mismatched gardening clothes, when I caught a glimpse of my hands, all broken nails and dried up cuticles and I wondered where that girl with the regular-as-clockwork-every-3-week-manicure went??? Don’t even get me started on the rest of me. I have been growing my fringe out for the last 5 months which is the longest I have ever had the patience to hang in, waiting for the lank weirdness of it to look somehow intentional and stylish. Waiting for it to transform into a bouncy thick bob or something I can tie back when working in the garden or travelling in the car with the windows down. But quite seriously when I look in the mirror all I see is a rubbish hairstyle with no style whatsoever despite my lovely hairdresser doing her best to keep things looking good.
Time to shape up/scrub up/ look like I give a damn, I thought.
It is SO EASY to literally just whip your comfy clothes on when you wake up and stay in them all day, weeding in the garden, walking the hound and generally pottering about with not a care in the world but after a while you forget how to be a girl and tizz yourself up, especially when I only go out occasionally and only work on Saturdays. Luckily the Engaged One is arriving in a few weeks and we are going to have a couple of weekends in the outside world. One weekend full with bridal salon appointments and catch ups with the Sydney Folk and another weekend celebrating her Hen’s and I am going to make a concerted effort to look and feel a bit like my old City Self with a hair do and manicure to match! Rat poo and broken nails will be a distant memory!
In animal news the new kids on the block have settled in very well and we even have a few new calfs already so they must be happy. It is amazing how different it looks having black cows in the paddocks instead of the freesians and they seem super excited to be knee deep in lush green grass as their condition is a bit less than optimal after having been grazed on lesser grass the other side of the river.
I think I met one of the most stupid animals on the planet this week. Most species go to great lengths to raise their babies in a safe place camouflaged against potential predators and danger but not these guys.
Meet Mr & Mrs Plover.
And the baby plovers-to-be……….
True, they are well camouflaged in a colour sense but the parents have laid these right in the middle of our front lawn. The same lawn that is going to be used in a matter of weeks for a cricket game when Sam and 30 of his closest friends are here to celebrate his 30th birthday. The same lawn that is currently the centrepiece of our circular driveway and home to the 11 trucks of the various tradies working on the renovation. Today we had 4 stonemasons, 3 electricians and 4 builders co-habiting in the workzone. I felt the need to escape so you can imagine how the poor plovers were feeling. Mum is quite dedicated, sitting on the nest all night in the freezing cold, but then she loses the plot during the day, hopping off the nest at the slightest noise. Goodness knows how the (now 3 eggs) will hatch with such sporadic attention.
You also have to take into account The Cammo Factor.
After being away for a few weeks surveying likely business ventures in Europe he finally got back onto the ride on mower to spruce the place up and only noticed the eggs as he was literally riding over the top of them. Luckily only one egg got squished and he has now sprayed a ring of flourescent paint around the “nest” so he doesn’t inadvertantly kill any others. Amazingly Mrs Plover came back to the scene of the crime the very next day and laid another egg to make up the numbers. They seem to be very punctual as apparently the earliest time they ever start laying their eggs is after the summer/winter solstice on June 20th and here we were on June 25th with 3 ready to go!
Renno’s are in full swing after losing only one day to rain this week. It was also the coldest day in 22 years and my house was a very un-cosy place to be. I locked myself in the lounge with the fire blazing and lots of cups of tea until it was an almost acceptable time to hit the sack and my beautiful electric blanket induced cocoon. The boys were back full of enthusiasm the next day and I now have a (hopefully watertight) roof and a new rustic stone wall to match the old existing one. Luckily we had quite a bit of stone floating around the property – probably left from the time the initial wall was built and Matt and his team from Broughton Landscapes have done a great job matching the style and proportion of the original wall. The hero of the new 3 metre steps will be the sandstone slabs for the treads and they should hopefully be here on Saturday to complete the job.
Winter means cuddles with Bailey in front of the fire………..
As I am working on Election Day I pre-voted. My second vote since becoming a dual citizen and after the whole Brexit debacle I realised how powerful the vote really is. Powerful but nearly impossible when you have to fill in a minimum number of boxes and there are dozens of options, most of which I had never heard of. It might be democracy at work but it’s easy to see how the whole thing can go pear shaped when you dont always know what you’re agreeing to when you tick some random box to fill out the necessary quota. On a day when another airport was targeted by some demented fanatics all I want is to have stability and peace and quiet, surely that’s not too much to ask is it??
This week has certainly reminded us all exactly how we are all linked as a global community with the Brexit outcome causing immediate ramifications around the world. Stockmarkets and currencies plunged, Europe was reeling at this mostly unexpected outcome and the reality it will inevitably have on the other EU countries . People who trade with the EU were all left wondering what was going to happen to them as the ripple effect travelled far and wide across Britain, Europe and the World. As a Brit living in Australia I watched it all unfold and wondered if those people who voted leave to “get their country back” actually thought it all through and if they did, I guess you’ve got to be careful what you wish for. Things will calm down eventually of course and now we have to look towards the future as optimistically as possible and try and work this thing out for the best, there was no real plan for this result and there are a lot of unsettling factors at play however, in true British fashion, humour has helped ease the fairly volatile situation amongst the Stay/Leave community.
These memes sum up quite succinctly a few of the more humorous reactions to departure from the EU…
Is this the end of yummy ‘foreign’ food?
Is the Chunnel suddenly going to be blocked off?
Most importantly can we still all be friends??