The front garden’s almost clear of grass now…not that it isn’t waiting to leap back in as soon as I lay down my gardening gloves. I’ve been filling it with plants…food plants, daisies, natives. Only trouble is, the possums and wallabies are very fond of new plants, and they especially like their salad. As a result, the garden looks like no-man’s land at the Somme, minus the landmines and dead bodies.
Meanwhile I’ve been composing songs and sticking them on YouTube, in flagrant disregard of the fact that I can’t play an instrument and can’t really sing. I have a feeling some of my family feel that this should be a deterrent for me….but what can I say. It’s not. I have this urge to record. Shoot me. This one’s about my mum. I miss her.
Popped up to my neighbour’s for morning tea and her alpaca had just had a crea. The little thing was just trying to stand up…I’ve rarely seen anything so cute. Mind you, alpacas ARE cute…although when you’ve seen them mating (as I have, on another visit to my neighbour’s) you realise they’re also narky. And hilarious. The girl’s sitting there clearly thinking about the shopping list while the boy’s straining away like Clive Palmer on Viagra, groaning. Apparently he’d been at it for hours. Let’s hope Clive doesn’t last that long.
It’s getting cold. I light the fire late to conserve wood, and hug hot water bottles. It’s not for everyone, this country life. Anyway, I guess there’s always bed, if it gets too cold…