This week’s missive is going to be a rushed effort. Please cut me a bit of slack; I’m in a bit of a state.

Today is Show Day , the Day the Country Comes to Town. A day off work for some (not The Bean Counter because…oh don’t get me started save to say good help is hard to find) to mark the anniversary of the settlement of the province of Canterbury and attend New Zealand’s biggest A and P (Agricultural and Pastoral) Show, which this year marks its 160 anniversary. No, we won’t be there because, like I said, I’m in a bit of a state. And I’m not the only one.

Farm Girl’s current state, three quarters of the way through her exams

and the state of Colin having witnessed his best mate, The Farmer, stowing his overnight bag in the ute and driving off into the distance.

Not all are in bad states, though.

Somewhere in the back paddock, our seventeen sheep and lambs are in a state of food induced euphoria as they make inroads into their new paddock, while the goats bask, fat as butter, having enjoyed a morning munch on some of what has been causing my state: the bolting cabbages.

Because everything is growing so fast; how’s a girl to keep up with it all?

Luckily, we now have a little state in the city where there’s no jungle garden. I escaped there for a day midweek after attending an appointment and doing a few town-day chores.

I drunk coffee, sat and stared into the distance, and even ran the vacuum round the place – mainly because it was such a tiny chore.

Then I got back into the car, maneuvered it through the mad town traffic, and headed back to this crazy, chaotic, overgrown patch of the planet.

The State of Union Homestead.

Not a bad state, when all’s said and done.