Hi everyone,

12 August - It's hard to believe it's been a year since I last posted an In Lieu entry. I don't say much because I don't have much to say. A few things of note have happened in the last 12 months, most of which Jonathan covers in his and the kids' pages, but pretty much it's "same old, same old" in Shirley Valentine land. The picture shows me holding a watercolour I did of the home of our former neighbours, Betty & Moss, which I painted for them as a memoir of their 25 years or so on the property. I have just started my 3rd 8-week semester of watercolour class, which I enjoy mainly for the social aspect, we paint and chat for 2 hours, and then drink coffee and chat for another hour at the cafe next door. Watercolour is very difficult to master and I have a very long way to go.

Our sheep are due to start lambing in a week, and some are definitely expecting twins. I worry there will not be enough grass, as the winter continues exceptionally wet. Merinda wants to adopt one of the lambs for Ag Day. One of the bantams has gone broody already, so I have her sitting on a mixed half dozen eggs of various breeds which I bought from a breeder. It will be interesting to see what we get - half roosters is a good bet. The ducks are now providing 3 eggs a day because I am shutting them in the coop at night. The chickens don't seem to like this arrangement as I now get no eggs from them at all, I need to build a separate pen for the ducks. The fruit trees are beginning to flower, so I have been doing lots of pruning.

I am fully recovered from the operation I had in late February. It took about 6 weeks to get my energy levels back after the general anaesthetic, and the removal of 2 very large dermoid cysts seems to have cured the anemia problem which was probably what was making me tired for many months before the surgery. I have bought an elliptical trainer and am trying to get my weight down (again!). The incentive for this is a trip to Europe in October, returning via the States in November. Jonathan has a conference in Prague and another in Amsterdam, and colleagues to visit in Brussels, with a few free days in between to visit a friend in Germany and maybe a side trip to Venice or Pompeii, then he will return via California and spend a week or so there. While I would love to go with him, it's just not going to be feasible to find someone to look after the kids and the farm for that long, and it misses Edwin's birthday. This has kind of put a crimp in my losing weight enthusiasm.

I have joined the school's Board of Trustees and it is my role to seek funding grants. Also I have become chief cook for school camps, the first one where I did all the organising was mid-March and went very well considering I was only 2 weeks post-surgery.

We have talked about moving back to Sydney when Jonathan's commitment to Waikato Uni ends. In a fortnight he is off to Australia for a business visit. The idea of having to move again is stressing me out. I'd like to be back in Sydney, but I dread the whole selling/moving/buying process, it nearly broke our marriage last time, and I also worry about the effect on the kids, especially Merinda who has really settled in well here and has 2 very close friends to lose. I wouldn't be too sorry to give up this property, it is a lot of work and worry, and I hardly spend any time simply enjoying it. But Jonathan says he is very comfortable here now that the extension is finished, and won't consider moving to a less high-maintenance property if we decide to stay in New Zealand. I have made my bed and so I must lie in it - and launder the sheets afterwards as well. And then tidy up, and start the fire, and cook the dinner, and try to "listen" to my children while tuning out their inane chatter, and throw dinner parties for people I don't know... the list is endless, as is the repetition. Maybe it's not that I don't have much to say, it's that once I get started, I say things that are better left unsaid. Sorry about that.

Let's finish with a poem that speaks to me:

When things go wrong
and they usually will
and your daily road
seems all uphill
when machines are down
and tempers high
when you try to smile
but can only cry
and you really feel
you'd like to quit,
don't run to me,
I don't give a shit.

Where The Sheep Have No Name

8 October 2008 - I went into the vet clinic yesterday for 6 doses of lamb vaccine. The receptionist put her head in her hands. "I hate this time of year!" she wailed. "No," I said, "what you hate is the life-stylers like me who only have a handful of sheep." The lamb vaccine comes in boxes of 500 doses, and each bottle contains 100 doses of 1ml each. She had to draw me off a syringe with 6ml in it. The real farmers buy the boxes. I have seen their sheep being let into a new lush paddock, a white wave pouring out of the gate, leaping with joy at the sight of all that new grass. Their sheep get shorn en masse, vaccinated in the hundreds, sent nameless to the works in trucks for slaughter. My sheep get shorn when they need it. This year some of them missed the May shear because they were thin, there wasn't much grass, and I wanted them to stay warm over winter. They get vaccinated piecemeal. The couple we eat a year are despatched quickly in the paddock by the home kill butcher. They all have names. The ewes are U1, U2, Diamond, Minnie, Panda, Snow and Alice. Their lambs so far are Cupid, Izzy, Slash, Sausage, Topsy and Daffodil. As it turned out, we had one set of twins (one died), a set of triplets, and 2 singles. We are still waiting on a couple more. The ram is called Bob. More about him later...

The clucky bantam hatched 3 of the 6 eggs; we now have a Rhode Island Red, a Blue Orpington and a white non-frizzly Frizzle. All girls I hope.

Yesterday I discovered my first case of fly-strike. This is where blow-flies (thank you Australia) lay their eggs in the wool and the maggots hatch there and begin eating the sheep alive. It looks like a dirty wet patch, but when you look closely you can see white things wriggling. Daffodil had a mild case, we think they were attracted to her newly docked tail. It was revolting but Jonathan was great and did most of the gross stuff while I got to hold the lamb. It is unusually early for fly-strike, it usually needs warm humid weather. Now I need to check all the other lambs, Daffodil was easy to spot because she is white, but the others are all black. I hope everyone can be shorn today, weather permitting, so any more cases are easy for our caretakers to spot while I'm away...

Yes, I do get to go to Europe and California with Jonathan and without our children, after all. It's Prague, Amsterdam, Munich, Brussels and then home via Santa Rosa for a week of catching up with our friends there. We depart on 11 October (what a birthday present!) and return on 9 November. I am looking forward to it of course. Jonathan hates travelling but I don't, and we have never visited any of those European cities before. I will worry about the farm animals and miss the kids while we are gone though. The first fortnight the kids are staying with Katie & Dianne (one of Merinda's best friends and her mum) and Bywater Grange is being house-sat by Olivia, the student who helps me out with the gardening. Then the 2nd fortnight Amelia is coming over and will look after the house and kids all together. Brave girl!

I have been making long lists of stuff child- and house-minders might need to know. There is so much to remember! One of the most crucial is: do not let Bob out! Bob has gone feral. He used to be such a sweet ram, following me around the paddock for scratches and rubs and bread. He has been naughty with children, knocking them down, but he has always been sweet to me... until I separated him from his 'girls', that is. He didn't get as much food as he would like (he was terribly fat) and he didn't get as much attention as he was used to, and he let me know that he was unhappy with me in no uncertain terms when I decided to let him back in with his wives and children. A ram is about 70 kilograms of muscle with a bone bowling ball at the business end. Being attacked by one is a scary experience. At one point where I was trying to kick him in the ribs to make him stop, he turned his head and bowling ball met shin. The shin lost. I still have a haematoma more than a week later, and an increased risk of DVT on the coming trip. Thanks Bob. I gave it a couple of days to see if a full tummy, other sheep and plenty of attention would bring back his old disposition, but no go. Although nice half the time, the other half he was trying to break my legs, and I really can't afford to have an animal around that I can't trust at my back. When I get back I will try and sell him, and failing that he will make very nice sausages and a super floor rug. Pity, he did make pretty babies...