I don't get it

So, I am officially done work for the holidays - two and a bit weeks of freeeeeedom and sleeping in, yeah!

But... I'm home now, and it's only 2pm, and.... I'm kinda bored.

Like.... Now what?

I mean. I could clean. I could tidy up. I could watch Netflix and try and find junk food. But I feel no interest in any of those things, yet don't know what I do want to do.

This may have something to do with the fact my leg is in plaster and there's bugger all of the things I actually want to do that I can do. It's just weird that I've been waiting for what feels like months and months to do nothing... And now I'm doing nothing, I'm really freaking bored of doing said nothing. 

Tapas

Last time we hit up this tapas bar was for a joint birthday with friends from the previous post; we decided to was too good to let a whole year go past and thought we'd book for our monthly junket this weekend. And. Wow. Just wow. Eating all kinds of delicious noms, testing various bottles of Verdeho, enjoying a Japanese girl dance the flamenco to a Spanish guitarist whilst we dined on the street feeling all Italian and exotic... Yum.

Devils on horseback - otherwise know as bacon and date pinchos - equal the single most amazing thing I have ever had the joy of placing in my mouth. They're stuffed with a whiskey gel that makes me want to pray thanks to a divine spirit I don't even believe in. Just.. Wow. 

Traditions

BIt's become tradition that every Friday night we head to our little local, small town cafe for a feed and a few bottles of wine with two friends that we have grown to known more and more over the past 7 years we've been together. Ironically; cam and I knew one part of the couple we go out with individually and then realized we all weirdly knew each other. They're a freaking fantastic couple who make me happier and make me laugh more than possibly any other people on this earth. We eat delicious food, share new found discoveries of moscato and generally have an all-round fabulous time on our weekly Friday catch ups and monthly forays into degustation deliciousness.

I hate seeing them sad. It breaks my heart. These are two of the hands down most lovely, genuine, GOOD people on this earth. Their troubles make me feel powerless, and reiterate that I'm crap at being someone who is remotely helpful at helping/fixing things/saying the right thing. I hate their pain. I hate their troubles. I wish I had a magic want to fix the wrongs in their life. 

Put a fork in me

...I'm done. There are no words for my current level of exhaustion.

I've driven close to 2000km in 5 days trying to be Nan's ears when she's being told what's happening with surgery/ongoing treatment, and being there for mum as she must be even more exhausted than I am. It's been brought to my attention that hospitals aren't exactly places of action. 

I've got so much on both at work and trying to juggle two huge weekends coming up. Working out what are priorities and feeling like no matter what I choose, I'll be letting someone down. 

It's hard when something I want for selfish reasons - my show cow and prepping for our first show at the start of Jan - is put totally out the window when I know I should be prioritizing my work family Christmas instead. Trying to see my horse who will be put to sleep in a few weeks now has gone to shit. I know he's receiving the best of care with his new owner, but he's been part of my heart and soul for 6 years, and I can't even guesstimate when I will get to say a farewell to him. Feeling so selfish for being sad about the things I *want* to be doing when I know I should be focusing on all the positive of Nan's first surgery going well, and a long overdue catch up with Cam's extended family for our annual Christmas weekend, but I just want to crawl in a hole and sleep, and be with my own family instead. Whine, whinge, moan... Just needing a vent.

Stabby stabby needles

I had my first acupuncture today - I thought we'd just enjoy a little chat and she'd warn me in advance of imminent stabbing. But no. She practically threw a needle into my skull like a dart player to prove it didn't hurt, then proceeded to stick needles in me in various locations, none of which were actually painful except my right wrist. I mentioned my discomfort and was informed the ones you feel are the ones you need to feel most - and turns out my specific pain point was my Heart Protection spot. You know. Like... Where I keep all my emotional walls of barbed wire, bricks and incindary devices to keep people out of my hurt zone. Doesn't sound like me at alllllll. I very nearly had a complete mental breakdown, and I'm not one who is open or receptive to 'relaxation' and meditation, but low and behold after a half hour of listening to a meditation with constant 'shhh! Stop thinking!' Thoughts to myself... I could hardly summon the energy to lift myself off the bed. I felt pleasantly heavy and nicely groggy, but weirdly.... Not traumatized. I don't do needles. I don't do relaxation. I don't do talking openly about the issues I'm having that made me google good old fertility support options. And yet.. Here I am, chilled out, not all up in my head with horrid thoughts, not totally dreading a repeat pincushion experience next week. I actually feel kind of... Not like myself. I am informed I should have renewed energy, a higher level of self acceptance (couldn't be a whole lot lower) and a positive pregnancy test by the end of January. I should be able to wean off the medications I am on, be able to carry to full term and have a less stressful pregnancy and birth and all that jazz. I shall remain hopefully optimistic and see where this stabbing goes.

Intuition

How I hate when it's true, and it's not a happy intuition. All day yesterday I felt the niggle, which carried into today - worrying about my flock. 

The one day I didn't get to see my girls yesterday, as we'd left them indoors all day as we had to rush after work to get to the Robbie concert, and Cam fed them out and tucked them up for the evening. Turns out my darling matriarch Mrs Weasly had passed away during the day - no rhyme or reason as to why - and was found peacefully in her cage last night. Cam didn't want to tell me until today so I was upset on the way to Robbie, and now it makes sense to my why I've had this feeling. Not many people will be as attached to their hens as I am. how I will miss her cheekiness, her extreme nosiness into everything I did,her welcoming heart for all of our new hens and little babies who needed extra careful gentleness, and her flying into my head each night to get to the feed bowl first. She was a far better person than most people I know. Rest in peace, my beautiful Mrs Weasley. 

My Instagram feed

Is legit pretty horses, random calves and photos of Ed Sheeran.

My life in a nutshell. 

Ironman food

This happened tonight. Breakfast for dinner. Ohhhh yeah. 

Weights

Trying to eat healthy. Brought salad and protein balls for my work day lunch. Get to work and there's 12 glazed Krispy Kreme donuts, an entire slab of double chocolate birthday cake, 2 packets of arnotts assorted biscuits and everyone's talking about fish and chips for lunch.... Errrrrrrr.

In other news, I weighed Moopy this morning. He's 12 weeks and two days old, and for a calf his age, he should weigh around 68-73kg (150-160lbs). He weighs 165kg - or 363lbs. Ummm...

Biker bargains, cheeky monkey and karma sutra

This insanely hideous but fabulous biker jacket cost me a whole dollar yesterday. Hello, bargain!

This little monkey casually escaped his paddock today, giving me minor heart failure as I went to free him breakfast and he was nowhere to be found. Turns out he was just lurking on top of the hay stack rummaging through our junk pile.

 What was this company thinking of making this their logo?! Hello, kinky drafts person.

New vlogs are up on YouTube! Check them out: 

Mrs Mac Youtube Vlogs

Random act

Of kindness is done for the day (possibly year, actually. I'm kind of a selfish mole).

I saw on Facebook that a girl was tracking down a copy of yesterday's newspaper as her friend got engaged in England, and with time zones etc, she wanted a newspaper with yesterday's date on to make a cute scrapbook for their engagement. How sweet is that? I knew we had some bits of a newspaper left from yesterday - what didn't start our bonfire - so I said I'd send it off to her, and now we're having a lovely little chat about weddings and England and honeymoons and Pinterest... Basically all of my favorite things in life. Karma is good today. 

Chicken shopping

Last night I was allowed to leave my sick bed and enjoy a delicious dinner with my friends for two whole blissful hours. Mental stimulation for the win! It's kind of a Friday night tradition to catch up with them at our little local restaurant, have a few wines and a chat, and order exactly the same thing we order every single time... The worlds most delicious cannelloni. It is so delicious that it in fact makes me long with a real physical ache for it when I even think about it... God, I need to get out more. 

I woke up this morning feeling a bit better, but kind of grumpy - another two days of nothing to do but 'rest', which basically means sit in bed and watch Netflix or continue my obsession playing on TripAdvisor. So I begged husband to let me take a trip up the road to the chicken farm, and do a little chicken shopping. I basically try and source rare breed chickens that are a bit fancy pants, and the chicken man had some amaaaazing birdies there today. However, he's retaining the majority as breeding stock, so it was just window chicken shopping today. I have my eye on a couple of breeds he had there today, but the fact they have to wait until nightfall to enter the Silver Campines cage to collect eggs and clean/feed them because the rooster is so evil and abusive, kind of put me off getting a vampire hen. 

There are a couple of big auctions coming up halfway across the state over the next month or so, so I basically plan on dragging my poor husband along to buy me some birds and chat the ears off the breeders and learn more about a couple of chooks that tickle my fancy. My plan to enter some of my girls into a show in October needs a little more enthusiasm behind it than I've been lately, mostly because I know how badly I will be mocked by my work colleagues when they find out I've taken a day off work to take Ursula, Dolores, Bathila Bagshot and Buckbeak along to a chicken show. Like, I am going to be absolutely bagged non-stop. Which is fine. Not a lot of change from usual. I just reeeeally want a shiny pastel ribbon to stick on my way to make it all worth it. 

So today tripsadvisor and Netflix have taken a back seat to me researching Faverolles and spangled Hamburghs, and  searching all the rare breed sites to try and locate me a lavender Araucana. Sounds tedious beyond belief to most people, thoroughly over exiting to me. Did I mention I needed to get out more?!. 

20 questions!

1. Are you named after anyone? My middle name is after my great nanna, and my first name after Katrina and the Waves, who sang Walking on Sunshine!

2. When was the last time you cried? Last night. I'm coming down with a cold, and Cam cut my carrots in batons, not circles, for dinner. Que end of world.

3. Favourite song at the moment? One, by Ed Sheeran. Runaway, Tenerife Sea, Wake Me Up, also all by Ed Sheeran. I'm seeing a theme...

4. If you were another person, would you be a friend of yourself? Um, most likely not, to be honest.

5. What do you order at Starbucks? Venti extra dry caramel macchiato with extra caramel. And then sit out the front with a cigarette and massive sunnies on and people watch.

6. Will you ever bungee-jump? Nah, I think my limit was cliff diving. It actually wasn't any fun at all, and I've realized I'm a major pussy and have no interest in proving a point to myself or anyone else!

7. What’s your favorite cereal? Oh, without a doubt - COCO POPS! However, Froot Loops, Nutri Grain and Frosties are all also amazing. 

8. What’s the first thing you notice about people? Being a gigantor myself, usually height, and then I guess clothing. 

9. One thing in your closet you cannot live without?
Currently: winter jackets! Brrrrr!  

10. Two Pet Peeves? Bad driving - it REALLY flips me off when people can't go the speed limit. Just hand in your license, folks, and let me drive in peace.

People having no concept of the difference between "he's" and "his". Ugh!

11. Favorite smells? My horses, cinnamon and apple, jasmine, coconut, frangipani.

12.If you could only drink one beverage (besides water) for the rest of your life, what would it be? I'd like to say green tea with jasmine, but let's be realistic: it would be gin and tonic.

13.  What's your worst habit? Making an enormous amount of washing up and literally not even noticing it. Domestic blindness at its finest.

14. What’s the furthest you’ve ever been from home? Africa? England? France? America? Not sure geographically which one!

15. Do you have any special talents? Please see number 13.

16.  Worst injury you ever had? I've had a multitude of broken bones, but I think my Rojo-Incident where he got stuck in the fence and came down on me has been the worst long term, if not at the time. My hand/wrist is still excruciating, with minimum movement, and the bleeding on the brain took ages to heal. 

17.  Do you have any tattoos? Just one, although I would like some more - expecto patronum, I'm looking at you!

18. If you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self?
Act your age - go out, get drunk, party your ass off, sleep with inappropriate men so you realise who the good ones are, and damn girl - you fine! You'll have the rest of your life to worry about being fat; enjoy yourself before your hips come in!
 
19. Favorite movie?

Disregarding the fact I have watched anything with Julia Roberts, Cameron Diaz and Hugh Grant at least - conservatively - hundreds of times, I'll go with something that's a new love - About Time. 

20. What do you want to be when you grow up? Happy. And thin. 

Imbedded

Ok, I officially don't know if I can imbed a link to YouTube in here from my phone, so a little testing testing 1-2-3 is in order. Here goes:

My daily vlog, Day One

https://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=youtu.be&v=RedBZpf5x0w
Day Two: https://youtu.be/JyCCmsjnTkU
Day Three: https://youtu.be/Q_cGJPa5LPE

Stay tuned for more!

Sick little chick

Blogging from bed: because ugh, 'early stage pneumonia'

Literally have left bed about 4 times in the past 7 days (except for wee's, obviously) and that was to watch my baby calf kick the crap out of the vet when he had his stitches out, and to fang around a little bit on our new ATV. 

I. Am. Losing. My. Mind.

I've spent the majority of my time - in between hacking cough fits - stalking potential holiday destinations on TripAdvisor, snuggling cats, and signing up for Netflix - hello, 17 hours of my most favorite chick flicks!

I've basically given up acting like an adult in any way shape or form, and instead focus on coloring in my 'Cats' coloring book, and re-reading Harry Potter, in between fits of hysteria that I can't make up my mind on where to vacation for my 30th birthday next March. 

I just had a coffee and had already read the news (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter) and then stumbled across my old vlogs- and old they are. Kinda got me thinking that maybe it might be fun to have a little filming session and this in turn will ensure I actually take a shower and locate some makeup, as I look like five kinds of shite currently. But... Like... What do I talk about? How exciting my week has been in lockdown in the spare room? An in depth report on how much goop came out of the calfs stitches? Yeah, not exactly living a thrilling life currently, if you hadn't noticed. Let's see what I can come up with whilst I go wash my hair. 

The monster

I don't know if this is a combination of coming down with a cold, being horrendously tired after a night of no sleep, or just true feelings coming to the surface because I am a bad, bad person.

But. 

I saw this morning my favorite YouTuber had gotten engaged: que extreme jealousy. Like, really? Yep, really. I'm not so bitter and twisted that I can't be over the moon happy for her, but the little green eyed monster is clawing at me, telling me 'remember how much you hated this time?'. And I have to say, 'no, little monster. Not the whole time. Our engagement was beautiful; perfect even. I was walking on air and felt content for the first time in my life. It wasn't the whole time. It was just the wedding itself, little monster'.

See? I'm trying to be positive. I'm trying really damn hard to not be swallowed up by sadness. But there's that part of me I can't positive talk my way out of, can't shrug away the grumbles of feeling like a failure, can't quite ignore how much it seemed to sum up all the parts of my existence I wish weren't true. 

You see, I hated my wedding. And I'm not really allowed to say that, because, you know, I sound like a fucking bitch. And I am. I should be all 'oh, everyone had a good time, so it wasn't that bad' like my husband and new family are in response to my pointing out the shit time I had. But the point is.. I. Didn't. Have. A. Good. Time. And being the selfish beast I am, it haunts me. 

I don't just feel like my dress wasn't quite perfect, my hair could have been prettier, not just little things you can maybe photo shop better. I fucking HATED my dress. And my hair. And the people I had as the practically sole persons there for ME. Hated. Hated. Hated. A fiery pit of rage seems to literally gnaw at my insides when I think of it. 

The trouble is, it was all my choice. I've got no one to blame but myself. I hastily chose a dress I wouldn't normally have looked twice at, because I took my husband with me dress shopping, as I have no close friends to share that with. I chose the shitty, selfish bitches to be my 'bridesmaids' because I was so, so sad to not have close friends, that when they offered, I thought it might make me happy. Or normal.  Knowing that of the 80 guests we invited, 4 of them were people who were supposed to support me, made me feel like a shitty, lacking person. My mother was being a nightmare. My brother didn't turn up. My father didn't even bother respond to my wedding announcement. My only friend was my ex boyfriend, and you know, that's not weird or awkward at all. I was fucking lost, and lonely, and feeling like a bitch for feeling all of that, when I should have been focusing on marrying the man of my dreams. 

And I did marry him. We wrote beautiful, heartfelt vows, and as I stood across from him in our backup plan venue because the beach was experiencing some kind of monsoon, I meant every word I said. I think because it was such a momentous occasion for me - this was something I had dreamed about for as long as I can remember - I wanted every detail to be as perfect as possible.

I've thought about doing a vow renewal, or even a whole Big Bang wedding again, maybe on the farm, with all my animals nearby, somewhere I feel I can truly be myself and is the happiest place on earth for me. But not only do I think it's horribly selfish, kinda tacky and a lot of effort for some pretty photos to prove I was happy for the day; I still don't have people in my life that I wish I did - supportive, loyal, honest and true friends. So I'm probably just reiterating the first time around, but in a prettier dress.

I think I'll just have to live vicariously through the engagement journey and beautiful photos of my YouTube friends, and get over myself a little bit. 

Things I have learned this week

* you're meant to sip cognac, not shot it. Yueghhhhh. 

* an Italians version of 'mild' is quite possibly the hottest thing I have ever consumed. Ever. 

* spider bites hurt. A LOT. 

* there is nothing attractive about needing to wee in hospital; even if you get out of using a bedpan. Ass-less gown and 24 ECG cords wrapped around your neck in a wheelchair is not hot. 

* Beverly Leslie could be th cutest little boy-calf I've ever seen. I am a good pillow.

* it's somewhat bizarre having your husband spend the day with your ex, but also really effing cool. I'm so grateful I've got two awesome boys in my life who do all the hard work on the farm whilst I snuggle my calf. 

* watching One Born Every Minute is making me hella clucky. This is an extremely weird feeling. 

June loves!

Dumb Ways To Die: this game... My GOSH. Addiction! Can't put it down! Love it! My kinda crazy!

Ed Sheeran: I mean, I ALWAYS love Ed, but seriously can't go more than a few hours without cranking him and having a nice little song-song. Decembers concert can't come quick enough! 

Tripadvisor: again, always a staple in my daily life, but constantly reading reviews on Honolulu and Maui gets me in the holiday spirit. Kinda silly, as I've spent  lot of time on Maui with our holiday house, but anything to help ignore the wet-n-windy Melbourne weather is a bonus at the moment.

Online shopping: yeah, ok, always a love. But with my busier working hours and other time-zaps currently, ebay is copping more of a workout than it usually does. From dog harnesses to cowboy boots, and a custom hot pink rhinestone studded cattle headcollar, it's been a whole lotta fun. And when it arrives in the post box, it's a little bit like Christmas... 

Pears: poached in balsamic and red wine vinegar and tossed over salads - yum. Like a little hit of summer on dreary winter days. 

Friday nights: commonly when I would cook (absolutely delicious) pizza and have a chill out with good tunes and great wine, our new weekly custom is to meet two dear friends for a quick meal and then leisurely dessert at our local. I love talking horse and devouring mud cake over a few bottles of wine with two beautiful souls. It's kind of ironic that I enjoy their company for their life experience and generosity of knowledge,  when they're hanging for some younger fun and light conversation. Nothing beats discussing warmblood bloodlines, travel experiences and hilarious family anecdotes over cannelloni, chocolate cake and wine. 

39 days

Until sunshine, cocktails and surfing. Yes.

In other news, I woke up on Sunday with my head down the toilet and a pair of shiny, Willy Wonka style ski goggles next to me. My proudness for only pouring myself two drinks came down with a crashing bang when I was reminded of drinking gin straight from a saucepan (??) and the Midori shots I imbibed in. Oops.

Cam and I watched 50 Shades Of Grey this evening - slightly alarmed that he's come to bed with a fire poker and keeps trying to smack me on the butt. 

burning up slightly from the copious amounts of toothpaste I've smeared on my right eyebrow; the worlds largest pimple has decided to erupt (surely can't be related from the toxic amount of gin i ingested?) and I can't be seen leaving the house with it in the state it's in. 

Currently skating on thin ice with excuses for not turning up to work (cow/chicken/husband/horse got loose and I couldn't catch it/him/her) so it's going to need to behave itself and diminish rapidly overnight for me to be able to turn up for duty in the morning.

I ate salad for both lunch and dinner, and am currently in that excitable phase of 'am I thin yet?!' Before realizing I'm no longer 19 and therefore don't still have a working metabolism. Gonna take me a whoooole lot more than gnawing on some iceberg - and winter isn't my favorite time to chew on anything other than potatoes and pastry. Actually, that's my favorite thing to do year round, but still. I'm meant to be dress shopping for our little wedding ceremony in Maui and currently the thought of having to bare any part of my flesh isn't an inviting one - I wonder if I can get away with an all-encompassing ivory coloured kaftan?

Thursday

Turns out the phantom preg is a hole in my stomach and an infected intestine; not a small child attempting to claw its way out. I'm unsure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

It's about -32 degrees currently, otherwise known as The Start Of Winter in Melbourne; and actually 10c. Um... Brrrr. I've tucked the cow into a stable with a large quantity of hay, as I've never actually seen her cold before. She's like a walking, sweating hot water bottle, until today.

Researching thoroughly flights to Maui, to utilize our holiday house and soak up some sun/rape Sephora for amazingly  cheap make up. I think a few days outlet shopping in Honolulu is in order, and revisiting a little restaurant we found overlooking Diamond Head that had the most delicious cocktail I have ever had the pleasure of dunking down my throat. Bizarre that flights to the opposite side of the world are cheaper than visiting Queensland currently, 2 hours away. It doesn't take much to convince me to soak up some Hawaiian sun... Except obviously extremely experience horse-sitters who can deal with my crazy boys every whim and character flaws for a few weeks. It usually takes me at least two days to actually start to relax on holiday, imagining every possible worst case scenario that could befall my menagerie.

 So, time to spend some cashola on employing someone who understands the concept of colic and founder instead of hoping my mum doesn't panic at the sight of Rojo having his morning nap whilst she farm-sits. Oh, to have a holiday I can actually enjoy, and relax, and drink my body weight in Sex On The Beach without terror of them slipping a rug.

And... One of the main reasons to vacation this year would be to organize our vow renewal. We've been sort of planning this since my partial mental breakdown after our *actual* wedding, due to a number of reasons (mostly all imaginary, mostly all of which only belong only in my head), but Maui is like a second home to us since we've been able to utilize the holiday house, and one of our favorite places to digest fish tacos and Piña Coladas on the most idyllic beach possibly known to man - complete with sea turtles! - is a definite option to hold our little ceremony. Gosh... How happy I would be to have stunning picturegraphs of us, all loved up, at Napili Bay, smothered over our farmhouse instead of random pictures cows. Well, actually, I quite enjoy random pictures of cows, so perhaps in addition to. Either way, time to stop eating delicious winter comfort food and start shopping for floaty-beachy wedding dresses.

Right after I was this 3 cheese potato bake. Nommmm.

Wednesday

So, day two kind of got forgotten... I had every intention, and was even thinking of doing it as i prepared a delicious feast (pumpkin pesto lasagne, my new addiction - phooarrrr, it's delish!) but time got away from me.

Wednesday is my weekly day off, and when I hang with my mummy, but she's sick, I'm sick, blah blah blah. Instead, I woke up with the overwhelming desire to create a paper mâché longhorn Bulls head. Yeah, I don't know. 

It's currently drying from its first coat of goop, which is flour/water/salt and making me crave pancakes and Yorkshire pudding, for some reason...

I am pretty impressed with my horn making ability. Pretty gosh darn impressed. Like, I thought they'd be the hard part, but I'm quietly confident I've actually aced them first go. Evidence of my natural horn making talent: 

(Also evidence of my mess. Ignore that).

I kind of want to stand over it with a hair dryer to encourage it to cook, but I'm a tad worried there'll be an awkward 000 requesting a fire truck if I do that. Patience has never been one of my finer points, and having to wait hours (days? Gasp!) is doing my head in. 

In other news, I've just discovered ridiculously cheap airfares to Honolulu; meaning we can island hop to Maui and spend time at our family holiday house... Read: cheap holiday. Read also: must be social with family. I'm in more of a 'lets lay on the beach, being massaged practically non stop whilst downing happy hour cocktails and reading soft porn for women books' mode than a 'can't sleep until midday as it appears rude and have to make small talk over dinner, and can't eat breakfast like a piglet in case I drop crumbs on the $400,000 tiles' kind of holiday mood. But still... Driving around in golf carts and raping Sephora on a daily basis doesn't sound too unappealing. Hmm. I can see today getting lost playing on trip advisor and poking paper mâché continually to see if it's dry enough for another layer. Ahhhhh, Wednesday, how I love thee.

Yawn

It appears I may be pregnant - I find out the result for sure tomorrow - and can I just say, in between the whirlwind of emotions running through my head, vomiting, agonizing cramps and hormonal madness - I am one gosh-darn boring person. Without coffee, soft cheese, copious amounts of alcohol and nicotine... I am just... DULL. We went for dinner on Friday with a couple that we're normally a little bit loud and wild with, and who from the minute we sit down, don't shut up yapping to - and man, conversation just wasn't  flowing for me. To give myself some credit, I feel like absolute shite, but still. If I am el-prego, I'll be spending the 9 nine months working on being a more remotely interesting human being whilst I grow another one inside of me, because, yikes... This weekend I've slept, read some Harry Potter, slept some more, whinged a lot and, well, that's about it. I've told myself I will attempt to blog every single day, which I can only hope with make me do something worth blogging about each day. 

May Lovin'

As we are rapidly speeding through another month (hello? 2015, is that you? slow it down, mate!) I thought I may as well document what I've been lovin' lately. In no particular order: McDonalds Iced Coffee Frappe. As wrong as it is to admit to this, because they're probably a weeks worth of calories and a months worth of saturated fat, they are just so gosh darn good. They're my fortnightly treat when I head down to visit mum, and make the long drive go a little quicker in my caffeine fueled state. My new king sized bed. Heaven. Fluffy socks. These were a gift from the gorgeous Seah Bear, and I don't even know how to describe their soft, fluffy warmth. It's like walking on little clouds of fuzzy, toasty goodness. Painting. Still up there with my favorite things to do currently. Probably because I can shut my brain off from being an adult for a few hours. I just need to diversify from chickens and cows, as I'm running out of wall space for canvases of the calf. Icy, sunny mornings. Autumn is my favorite time of year, especially when you wake to bright sunshine and frosty paddocks, with the horses breath making them look like dragons. Makes up for rushing home from work to feed/rug ponies/lock up chickens in the few minutes before it's pitch black and the foxes consume the hens and the ponies crack the sads from starving to death. Because 10 minutes is all it takes for a horse to meet his doom should I be late feeding, you know. Yahoo Answers. I know the majority of these people are trolls, but still...people are stupid. And stupidity is freaking hilarious. Woki. My itty bitty, tiny kitty - so much cheekiness in such a small package. This little monster has zero fear, and a lot of personality. She's supposedly a foster, but we'll see how easy it is to let her go. So called Woki as a cross between an Ewok, and a Wookie. Ice Hockey. Each Sunday there's been the playoffs - some live - of the Stanley Cup. Fluffy socks, kitten on lap, watching the hockey = my idea of a good day.

Alt.

Today, my heart breaks.

My sugar plum fairy, my Altosaur, my big bird leaves for his new home. I couldn't have asked for a better 'ending' for him; going to the girl who rescued him from starvation and abuse and nursed him into the healthy, happy boy he is today. I've had his grumpy, cheeky love for 5 years, all the time she's been searching for him after he was sold on from under her. So i can't be sad really, knowing his life will be filled with love and pure happiness that he is now hers, but still. He's been my rock through hard patches, my daily reason to get out bed, the cause of many late night sodden rug changes and sore bones from him bucking me off; he's been my life and soul for 5 years. I never, ever thought there would be a day in my life one of my boys was no longer my own; and this has been one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. But I've always known Alt and I haven't had the connection we could have; for whatever reason I've never been to him what I know I am to my other horses. So I'm putting on my big girl panties and knowing I'm doing the absolute best thing for him; and I will always be able to see him and give his darling moustache a kiss when I need to. It makes what is a heart wrenching experience that tiny bit easier. But boy, will I miss the grumpy brown lump with his ridiculously long neck whickering to me every night, and long winter days of cold hands because I won't have his mane to warm up under. I will love my Altosaur forever, even if he's not living in my backyard. 

Killer cow

First and foremost, I can honestly say with 100% conviction that my animals have the best possible life they could possibly lead. If this weren't the case, I would have no hesitation to find them new homes who could offer them whatever I was lacking. I'm known as the Crazy Chicken/Cow/Cat/Horse lady not only at work, but in any circle of people I've ever briefly met. My life basically revolves around their care, their health and their happiness, and then my husband and mum kind of follow behind.

So it's been quite the learning curve this week to visit a cattle forum I was expecting to be a supportive, educational environment where I could learn some things to ensure my little darling SpitSpot would be happy and healthy forever more.

She's at the age where she will be coming into season, and I've not been overly fond of the idea of putting her to a bull when the time comes (and believe me, I've read and read about ideal weight, age, cycle time, age and type of bull, his calf weights and ease of birth scores and so on and so forth). I'm not the sort of person that thinks everything with a womb should automatically reproduce. I'm a major advocate for de sexing companion animals, and can lecture someone for hours on the health benefits from not letting them go on heat or have a litter prior to the chop. For hours. And hours.

So a moo cow it seems is a tad different - or is it? I'm trying to battle my way through information about what happens if she doesn't breed, and.. Well, there isn't any. Cows have calves. You then either kill the boy calf or sell it for meat. The girl calves then have calves when they're ready. And so the cycle continues. 

I have nothing against the beef or dairy industry - I wouldn't say I like the slaughter and need for it - but I'm not one to get on my high horse about it. It is what it is. 

But that doesn't mean I want to be a part of that cycle, and this has caused UPROAR on the cattle question and answers board. I have enraged people. I have been threatened, had my sanity questioned, been called a hoarder, and been informed I should be charged for cruelty to animals. 

Why? I don't have a bull to put my 7-12 month underage heifer to, and if I did, I wouldn't want to kill the calf myself, or keep a cycle of breeding heifers I don't really want to see go to market for meat. I am A BAD PERSON for sourcing alternatives to her spending the next 10-20 years breeding a calf a year. I am cruel for keeping a cow. I am a hoarder for keeping a cow. I should shoot her, keep her head over my fireplace and eat her, because a life with me is a fate worse than death. She will grow to over a tonne, kill me and all whom I love, break out of our farm and hunt people down and kill them because she hasn't had a calf. 

Here's me thinking going on heat for a day ever month if she didn't go in calf wouldn't be the worse outcome in the world. 

I AM WRONG. 

Cows can't be trained. They can't respect me. They can't show affection or loyalty. She will kill me as soon as look at me. She has no purpose in life and should be killed as she is so unhappy not getting pregnant. 

Here's some snapshots of my terrifying, crazed killing machine trying to knock me off for forcing her into a life of misery and pain: 

See? Pure evil. And I don't just mean the cow. Good job I have several months up my sleeve to work out her future baby-daddy, as I can't see too many other options around this, and then obviously the world will end if she has a boy, I keep it, chop it's bits off and they can live a life together of companionship and happiness - and hopefully not too many murders between them, or cruelty to animal charges against me. I have been well and truly generalized as being a mad hippy for not ruthlessly killing a few-hours-old calf and nurturing her to grow into a happy, healthy little heifer, so I'm going to do my own generalizing and say - wow, Americans. Gotta love the attitude of Kill it with Fire! to what they don't know or understand. Here's to my cow and I being complete nutjobs, and bloody happy with it, babies or no babies - better to be a hippy than a keyboard warrior bully with no compassion or desire to live anything but a small, closed existence where killing things because they don't fit the norm is standard practice. Moo to you.

Know what I wanna do?

Nothing.

Absolutely... Nothing. I want to lay in my bed, with no reason to get up - chooks let out, horses fed breaky and unrugged for me, puppies let out and kitties let in to my room, have my Mumma call in sick for me... And just be. 

No phones to answer, no borderline delinquent clients to deal with, no sick horse to worry about or good or bad weather to make me question if the horses are too hot or too cold or... Just... Nothing. 

Alas. Early start, customers to sort out, lady cramps to deal with, horses to feed, rug, water and worry over, chickens to release and cats to clean up after, dinner to cook and animal feed to purchase, home to rush to feed and rug and water, chickens to capture, vets to call and stressing to be done over sick horse, holiday to sulk over because I can't make decisions due to all the above. 

Ohh, to be a kid again. 

Moo

Because painting seems to calm my soul.  

Cricket Bat Cheese

I arrived at work today to a package - a package! For once, I wasn't as enthusiastic as I can be, because usually when I get a big box on my desk, it's screws/a door handle, and not in fact a delightful pair of Louboutins in a handy size 39. The joys of working in constructin. But, digging deep through the layers of cardboard and bubble wrap, I was curious... Cricket bat? Giant mouse-swat? (Not so far fetched, seeing as I pulled up into my car park and proceeded to remove a humane trap of mice from my vehicle, and set them free into next doors premises. The little buggers have worked their way through a handbag, a newspaper and various other bits and pieces in my car over the past week. War, little miceys, WAR.) But no, it is, in fact, a cheese board. And I do love me some cheese - the fact I could practically surf on this platter it's so big, may be an indication of how much everyone knows I love cheese. 

Which leads me to question that maybe that's why I have me some mice in my car... Cheese, Gromit, cheeeeeeese.

Grand and Exotic Hotels

Still suffering... so today was spent snuggled with an array of kitties, watching The Grand Budapest Hotel. Um... how have I not been made to see this earlier? I tried to watch it the last time I was on a plane, but it wouldn't load properly, so I just gave up on apparently ever watching it again - big mistake. Huge. I giggled. I snorted. I disturbed a few cats, I was so filled with mirth.

It reminded me a lot of Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events - which I'm sure had nothing to do with Jude Law narrating parts of it. Speaking of characters that you just cant shake, and of hotels; I made Cam watch The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel with me last night, and bloody Bill Nighy! No matter what I see him in, from a giant octopus in Pirates of The Caribbean, as Rufus Scrimgeour in Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows (terrible casting, if I do say so myself) to the dad in one of my all-time favorites, About Time - he is ALWAYS Billy Mack from Love Actually. Always. 

(A personal favorite moment of his from said movie)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c2mVtSyRcA8

And yet it's not like I sit and only see Maggie Smith as Professor McGonagall, or Judi Dench as M. Bill Nighy just is Billy Mack. And I'm sure that's nothing to do with the fact I have watched Love Actually approximately 149 times.

This is what my life has become over the past few days. Comparing movie characters to 17 other movies I have watched over my 20 something years as I lay in my death bed, dreaming of holidaying to Aruba (mostly so I can play Kokomo on repeat in my car for hours on end) and wondering if I'm brave enough to consume solid foods yet. On that note, it might be time to log into TripAdvisor again and have a nibble on a muffin. Adios, amigos.

Easter 2015 = Bedridden, With Cats.

What better time to get a new blog up and running than when I am stuck, bored and boring, in bed - because, you know, the best laid plans go to waste.

It wasn't like I was doing anything exciting this 4 day weekend (please note the use of sarcasm) - no catching up with my family, no competing the new pony for the first time, no sneaky shopping for all new fancy bits and pieces so that even if we failed miserably, at least we would look shiny and pretty... Ok, so I actually managed that last bit pretty well before I was struck down with the dreaded lurgy. You know, I would  have preferred my husband gave me, I don't know... Easter eggs, rather than a bout of the most revolting gastro I have ever had the misfortune of experiencing. In between groaning loudly, endless vomitting and mentally writing my will and obituary, I thought that perhaps I could use this time, pinned to my bed by a selection of cats, to do a few things I've been meaning to do... such as start blogging. I miss it. I miss having witty repartee, even if it is with myself. I miss the banter, the minute detail of my mundane life typed out for all the world to see, the times I look back and have a 'Huh...I forgot about that/fuck I'm amazing/I was sooooo much thinner back then' several months later... So, here it is.

And, of course, could I think of a name? No. Did "Maybe I'll give it a few days and think of something cool...." cross my mind? Yes, yes it did. However, that's gone through my mind for the past few months, and nothin' cool came into my brain.

So, in reference to a slight accident giant pony and I had, and an affectionate nickname my mother referred to me as in the weeks following, Lumpy Head and The Hooves it is. And until I can think of a more fitting picturegraph to serve as my header background, riding a pony through the crystal clear waters of Vanuatu right before my husband proposed to me on the happiest day of my life will do. Because happiness. And I looked sooooo much thinner back then.