It’s been another one of those weeks. The sort where way too much time is spent on off-Homestead business and those weeds just continue to grow. Their growth, and that of the purpose-planted vegetation it would be fair to say, was aided significantly by the 37.5 mm of rain that collected in the Homestead rain-gauge between Saturday and Wednesday…and through it all we had “other plans”.
The best part of Monday disappeared in accompanying The Elders through one of those meetings, and Tuesday in the painful (for us at least) decision making process that is choosing new curtain material. Wednesday afternoon involved The Milk Maid, Goat Herd, Farm Girl and Leia’s lad encouraging our aged Nissan Pulsar (because the truck was at work with The Farmer) along the 64 kilometre round trip to the nearest vet capable of carrying out a goat castration (complications of goatie anatomy deemed this undertaking beyond our scope of experience and, sorry, no photographic evidence exists of the transportation – it was a kind of all-hands-on-deck task and one which had the vet doubled over with mirth) and Thursday swallowed up by essential document-updating having dementia-effected family makes you prioritise. Of course, then you’re back to Friday, shopping and general community gas-bag day, and the week’s done and dusted. All this by way of explaining the lack of midweek communication; are we excused?
But wait, there’s more. An email on Monday lowered our spirits a tad as it advised that Leia’s two kids could not relocate to Little River due to limited fencing. Ah well, back to the drawing board. But then, like things do on this crazy Union Homestead roller coaster, we were bounced back within the hour by a text requesting details and then the chance to take a peek at Ulrich, which we delightedly scheduled for Wednesday evening. After the day we’d had, it didn’t take much to convince us a bottle of wine was in order which we were thankfully only a little way down when a phone call requesting the very same details was answered. The lady had lost a goat-foundling that had been foisted on her (and then wriggled stealthily into her heart, like they do) to colic and just needed a replacement. Would she like two? A brother and sister? The vet trip was a result of her delighted “yes, please”.
So, the current paddock head-count is five (because of course they couldn’t resist Mr Ulrich who is now number two buck, with a shared harem of 38 lady-friends, on a farm near Coes Ford), with Ulrika leaving within the month, and Leis’s two, now named Jack and Jill, heading to a farm in Hanmer Springs in a couple of weeks. What a huge weight of our minds; what a huge amount of milk we’re now getting in our two-milkings-a-day! Consequently, yesterday was spent making mozzarella (a fair result) and riccotta (a triumph!) and planning our next batch – feta, we think.
If this wasn’t enough, Friday night saw The Farmer, Princess Nikita, her royal parents, Farm Girl, The Renovator and Milk Maid visit the theatre (where they met Oma, the esteemed Auntie Joss, and the equally esteemed cousins because…ahem… it’s a small world afterall). Mary Poppins was a fantastic, full on, far-out experience…and such fun!
As a result of all this activity, Sunday morning tea kind of sneaked up on The Milk Maid. Still a little tender over the death of a gent who saw her through more years than she care to count (thanks to Uncle Nick playing ‘Rebel Rebel” to her when she was about the same age as Farm Girl), she was intent on sharing some of David Bowie’s words of wisdom. Unfortunately, as often happens with enduring idols, none of his pearls really fitted any more so she settled for playing his greatest hits in the background while serving Tui Flower’s never-fail scones (made into pinwheels to encase the left over Christmas mince hiccupping in an alcoholic stupor in the back of the fridge) and unveiled this way more fitting sentiment.
A sentiment Jack very much concurs with.