It's Saturday afternoon in Kiwi Land. Blue sky. Slight breeze. And madness as usual. In an attempt to keep my pet sheep out of the house, we've temporarily fenced off part of the garden. Which meant I also had to put a child barrier up on the kitchen door. She can no longer get in the house, but now she sticks her head over the barrier and talks to me while I cook. I swear that sheep says 'mum'.
|my pet sheep trying to get into the kitchen|
Meanwhile I'm trying to get the kids to clean their rooms. I think it would be easier to negotiate peace in the Middle East. So far I've threatened to take away play dates if they don't pick up their toys, then I tried bribing them with cookies and milk and now I'm back to threats - this time I'm going to take away pool time. I might as well be speaking Russian. They nod. They smile. They ignore me. They play. The rooms still look like the kids have their own personal tornadoes.
Outside, my husband is playing with his chainsaw. I'd feel slightly less tense about it if he wasn't half way up a very long ladder while he does it. Plus, he gets this kind of manic smile while he chops down trees. It make me wonder just what's in his head at the time.
While I was writing this, there was a loud crash. The latest casualty of his chainsaw love affair is now the chicken coop. So far the new chainsaw has cost us - one bridge, two fences, part of the neighbour's shed and now the coop. Good value for money then! My neighbour came over to see what caused the noise. Her suggestion is that we write a list to keep my husband so busy he won't have time to use the chainsaw. I told her he's writing his own list - he now needs to fix, one bridge, two fences… It's our very own chainsaw massacre.
|That mangled mess under the tree used to be my chicken coop|
It's nearly time to put the kids to bed. I've already given them a bath, but forgot to tell them not to play in the sandpit. They've filled it with water and now they're playing in mud - in their pyjamas! Meanwhile, my husband is trying to fix the chicken coop in time for the chickens to go to bed. They're taking turns to peck his ankles as he works - it's the least he deserves! The dog has raided the broken coop and run off with all the eggs. I'll need to go on a hunt for them as she likes to hide them in our bed, or under the sofa cushions. And our pet sheep has made its bed outside the kitchen door for the night and shouts 'mum' at me every time I walk past her.
What can I say? It's just another day in the life of this Kiwi based writer. If you've had a mad day too I'd love to hear about it - it will make me feel slightly more normal!
UPDATE - the chicken coop is now a write-off! The poor chickens have no home. My husband is working on an alternative and I've hidden the chainsaw. Thought you might like to see the damage...