And just like that, the holiday season is over, everyone’s back at work, and the daily life machine has clicked back into automatic mode. No more lazy mornings dallying over coffee and putting the world to rights and I’m back to saving up the stuff I can’t do on my own until after office hours. Blah! Just blah!
Luckily, I still have stuff to smile about.
Like these cups, a gift from the Tiny Housers. I love them – and not just because they have a stonking capacity. The cup’s subjects, reminiscent of the Homestead menagerie, all have attitude!
and speaking of attitude: my Girl Guide whipping knot (and it’s been a wee while since I earned my Knots Badge) was substantial enough to secure chopstick to duster pole thus aiding in restoring the Urban Outpost’s suncatcher to its rightful spot. That my over-vigorous dusting had it plummeting in the first place is neither here nor there (of course we have bindertwine in the kitchen draw at the Outpost – Be Prepared and all that)
To add insult to injury, those vexing weather gods decided the move back to work require a tweaking of the thermostat and the temperatures have been hovering around the 30 degrees Celcius mark most days. While not great for getting a restful nights sleep it does (affecting my best Hayley Mills/Pollyanna persona) rock when it comes to haymaking.
Fifty bales, one shy of last year’s tally; not bad considering the sheep staged pitch invasion of late November
Then yesterday, the hottest one of the week so far, a rendezvous was arranged to facilitate the handover of the latest Homestead citizens.
These guys hail from a fair way north of us and so a roadside handover was arranged. The original location was to be near an intersection well known to me with a large grassy verge and little traffic. Then, as the temperatures soared and pigs wilted, a less out of the way spot was picked by the vendor. A spot which required googling for me. I’ll be having a word with my google co-pilot: “Sweetie, that weren’t no road!” is the wordage I have settled on. Still, once we’d retraced our jostley, jiggley, jaw-clenching journey down the gradiously named Barters Road, having encountered a locked deerfence gate within calling distance of our destination, the piggie handover went without a hitch and the boys are now settling into the Homestead sty with their beady little eyes firmly on the off-casts of the bumper fruit crop this odd weather has helped the Homestead trees produce.
Oh, and apparently there’s a choice option in google maps to avoid unsealed roads. Mine is now firmly checked.
So, it’s back to business as usual here on the Homestead; nothing out of the ordinary to see here.
Union Homestead 
I always feel a little sad when the bustle of the holidays are over and it’s business as usual. Still, we can’t party forever, can we? 😉 Those mugs are wonderful, and I really like your chopstick solution. As we would say in Maine, wicked good.
Wicked good sums it up nicely😁
Google maps can be a snare and delusion. They recently had motorists going down some steps in Edinburgh.
It is so odd to be seeing pictures of the hay when we are in our dark nights and cold days. I hope that the new residents thrive.
My biggest problem with Google maps was that I hadn’t been to the named destination in over 40 years and I vaguely remembered it being unsealed when I had so I second guessed myself. In the cold light of day, with no strangers awaiting my arrival, I hope my thinking may have been a bit clearer. These pigs had me worried for a while but they appear to be well equipped with instinct and hide away during the heat of the day… Even for food.
Hi, I happily still use hard copy maps when I need to find my way around. Way finders aren’t necessarily the most reliable way of reaching a destination.
I am sure the new pigs will be an additional source of entertainment on the homestead.
I’m much better at being directed than reading from a map but I think my panic and time constraint made me a little vacant when Google slipped up
This time of year is always a bit drab and tedious – no more sparkle and all the nice food has gone. I’m pleased your little pigs arrived safely and have made themselves at home.
They are slowly coming out of their shells, so to speak. Having come from a farm rather than lifestyle block, they are not used to humans being interested in just standing and watching them. In our house, Christmas is truly over when the last scorched almond has been devoured.