I am, to date, still awaiting the either clippperty clopping of my ‘sheep’ from the bus driver, or the silence of the (dead) lambs… I must admit I am rather thankful to have not yet received them, I am not too excited at the thought of having to cook sheep. If he brings me live ones however, now that's something else way too exciting. They’d be better at mowing the lawn than us-practical, Alex, you see? That’s why I am welcoming in my livestock, in their droves. From our chickens (despite their gargantuan proportions and their bullying the new girls Brigite and Blanchette) we get our eggs. From sheep, well, milk, and then you can make your own cheese, wow, and they mow the lawn without whinging or putting it off for 2 weeks too long, cats catch things, although as we live in 2011 (it is 2011 isn’t it?) and not in the time of the bubonic plague, this is not a necessity for us, still, it’s what they do. And ducks! Yey! And a frog. All agreed they serve little or no purpose, but they change it up a bit…
So anyway, this weekend has been eventful. We have our friends’ son out here for a fortnight with us, so as he eats for 8 large families, seriously, Jesus cooked smaller meals for the 5000, I have been chain-baking. The kids are on super-hyper-over-driven-a-long-while-back-drive kids. They adore this boy, and are so overexcited. So they’re noisy and will be spending the day in a giant sound proof bubble-what the heck, I’ll throw the chickens in there too. It was Mother's day here in France on Sunday, so I even got a lie in till 9am on Sunday morning. Followed by dozens of gorgeous little hand made presents and cards from the kids, and Quality Street chocolates, which I have not had in years...lovely day.
Chickens are bloody fast. My God, I am exhausted, I feel as though I have just been and completed an extraordinarily complicated Anneka Rice challenge. Bloody hell, I’ve been scratting around under the caravan in our garden for what feels like hours, trying to push them out the other side with sticks, they're going nowhere, stubborn b*tch*s. Monty just came down and sat on my knee as I typed that paragraph, he was laughing so hard at the image of his mum scratting round in the mud under a caravan for our girls. Who incidentally, up close, have proper ugly ass faces. As I was just doing the garden tidy-up, I have been wrestling them to get them into bed. I’ve given up, and now there is a thunder storm. Well, I tried, there’s only so much scratting round in mud one can do. The cats have been chasing me round to feed them, that is now done. The dog, well, he can eat after I have finished my blog, the world is awaiting it…! I have fed, bathed, pyjamad, teeth brushed, hair brushed, storied and put to bed 4 kids. I then hovered and mopped (phew, the world will not implode tomorrow, you should all be grateful), then cooked up the remaining chickpea burger mix from yesterday up for me, made a fresh batch for the will be ravenous, post-surfing hubby and friends’ son. The chickens are now going mental, Monty has finally given into tiredness, and I can hear him playing with his lego under his den-wait, hang on a cotton picking minute, he’s still up. Time to intervene...Right, now he’s not, there is, finally peace…No, no, now it’s the effing chickens again, I got the washing in, that’s safe from thunder and lightening, but the chickens are still out there on mass. The little 2 are still making that cute cheapy-cheap noise, before it turns into the most noisy insulting Boc-Boc-Boccing, that is so intense you find yourself wanting to rip their adorned with a red flap heads off. Ooooof. That was quite cathartic that, admitting it. Good God and Babara Streisand, I hope another one doesn’t drop down dead tomorrow. Another ‘will-kill’ on my hands.
Well, I am going to make an effort tomorrow and not go round the ENTIRE day with my top on inside out. Thanks Alex for pointing that out to me at 7 pm, when the day was over. The whole day spent looking like I had finally lost it, gone bananas, flipped. So tomorrow is a new day, and I am going out there, head held high, deoderant in place, armed with 4 kids and a top on THE RIGHT WAY round, I shall rule it tomorrow! See ya!