Friday 5 August 2011

A Woolly Distraction

In our quest to solve the lack of signage on the local section of the Highway to advertise The Daily Pie, the girls door knocked roadside landowners who may be prepared to 'lease' us a section of their land to erect a fixed sign.  They also put notes in letterboxes, making their plea known.

A resounding 'yes' a couple of 'maybe's' as well as a few 'I'll have to think about its' were received and noted.

The Machinist and I went to visit the Farmer who was eager to help and who had given us full permission to check out his paddocks which run alongside the Highway, in order to find the best visual spot for passing traffic.

An Australian cattle dog met us, panting excitedly, running from the car back to his master on our arrival at the Homestead.  The dog's master walked towards us, holding something long, floppy, bloody and covered with amniotic (glue like) fluid.  "This is Julius, named after Julias Caeser, as I've just delived him by caeserean section.  I had to put the mother down, as the crows had been at her backside and she was in a really bad way..."

Said in the true spirit of Aussie nitty gritty-ness!

"You can have him if you want, but I don't want to get involved if you both disagree", he said, looking from me to the Machinist.

"We'll have to find a blanket or something, Babe" The Machinist didn't hesitate
"So it's affirmative on your part?"
"We need a sheep to keep the grass down in the paddock next door"
"Yeah, that's true"

In the meantime, the Farmer had nipped off to find an empty sack "You can put the lamb in here, as you carry him home.  I'll just nip indoors to see if we have any spare poddy lamb teats"

And that, as they say, was that.

Wilson is kept in front of the fire, inside a make-shift 'play pen'.  He bleats, drinks, sleeps, craps and pees.  But we don't mind.  It means that he is working perfectly!

Wednesday 3 August 2011


The Machinist had disappeared from his 'post' as pie filler and I wandered outside to see where he was and what he was doing, so that I could haul him back and chain him to the stainless steel bench.  Alas, he was talking with a Highway Patrol officer.  "Oh no!", I thought (the usual 'what's the matter now' feeling you get when any type of Policeman enters your premises, even though you're not guilty of anything he could possibly be there for).  On closer earshot, I learned that we had been 'officially informed' that we were not allowed to put our signage for the pie shop out on the Highway.

And so now begins the tedious task of many communications with bureaucracy....


 Table talk amongst our children is and always has been, -  a rabbit warren . We start off in one hole and end up in another -  quick smart....