We’re 2 weeks in and almost everything is unpacked, although don’t look in the study. The kids have settled well and they love living on the farm. They love the chickens and the kittens and building fires. They even help me in the garden, for Jack that means picking weeds one blade of grass at a time but at least he is trying! We had an idyllic first week. Sunny mornings spent gardening, collecting eggs, admiring the night sky with the billion stars. Wondering why we didn’t make this move sooner. Apparently the second week was our answer to this question.
I doodled out one morning to feed the cat and her kittens. It’s great they are all finally eating proper cat food and are more active, downsides are being climbed up every time I stop for 2 seconds. Weeing, or diddling as Jack would say, everywhere, especially behind our loo which is a little weird if correct. So now I have more kids to clean up after. But I feed them and noticed that there was something fluffy and non moving in their bed. Yuck, dead mouse. Good Bubba for catching it, bad Bubba for not disposing of it miles away from me. Luckily Jamie is still around so as a good man he hops off to get rid of it when I suddenly here him shouting for me. Apparently it’s not a mouse, it’s a rat or rather the bottom half of a rat. I am hearing the second half of that sentence from the bedroom where I have barricaded myself in on the off chance Jamie tries to throw half a rat at me – I put nothing past him. I have also noticed giant moths seem to live near our house. At night they throw themselves at the windows as we watch TV, or sit in the corners watching me. Even better that night I went out to use the loo and discovered one flying above my head. So I pulled my hood up and made myself as small as possible until it went away. Now I have to toss up between turning the light on when I got out and having them go nuts or not turning it on and potentially stepping or touching one. Uhhhhhhhh.
My reputation at a farmer’s wife is taking some serious knocks at the moment. (I have tried pointing out to Jamie that 20 acres of grass does not make a farm but he’s oblivious to it) I am apparently pretty pants at fires. Jamie can just look at a bunch of wood and they burst into flame. I labour over twigs, bits of paper, firelighters and gallons of petrol for it spark, smoke and go dark. So I must practice my ability to make fires – not a skill people usually encourage.
On Monday night Jamie came home and decided to take a look under the house to work out how he’s going to run internet cables from one room to the next. You look under the house through a trapdoor in the pantry. I’ve never bothered, firstly because it’s filled with spider webs and subsequently spiders, and secondly because there are rats and mice hanging out with the spiders. But as soon as you stick your head in the hole you can see a problem. There was a lot of water, much to Jamie’s horror at some point in the last year – we hope it was only a year – the pipe that takes all the waste water out the house, by that I mean washing machine, sinks, baths, showers, etc, has popped off a central pipe and for who knows how look all the water has been directly deposited under the house. It would explain the damp smell in the outside loo as it’s directly over the pipe exit.
I am so proud of Jamie. He rolled up his sleeves, or rather rolled them down and put his hood up, and climbed into the hole and dragged himself through who knows what to refit and glue the pipe back together. He smelt, and that does not even being to describe it. I made him strip off outside, put everything in the rain and sent him to the shower. And this is where we discovered the reason for why the pipe came off in the first place. Half way through Jamie realises the shower is no longer draining. In fact nothing is draining. So we called a plumber out for Tues morning to take a look. No water means no clearing up, no washing, no showers, which is not quite as fun as it might first seem.
The plumber arrived and spent most of the afternoon sticking things up pipes, pumping things until half our garden was filled with old deposits of fat. And it turns out our waste pipe only just goes past the house and to the start of a paddock before stopping, pretty close to useless. He managed to pump out most of the fat and clean out the little black tub that’s meant to stop the pipes clogging up. So we have water – yeah I can wash dishes, I cannot believe I said that. And in the next week he’s coming back with a digger to remove half the paddock and throw a lot of draining stones down there and run our pipes out further. So hopefully this is will mean no more sudden blocked pipes or loss of water.
We are going to have to be extra careful about what goes down sinks now. Since when it all goes wrong it’s no one’s problem but ours, that’s what living off bore and rain water is. No water board to come and stick their hands in gunk just Jamie. And if he thinks I will be standing shoulder to shoulder with him in those times of trouble, he’s out of his mind.
We have roosters! They are called Roary and Diego, Jamie was pushing for Drum and Stick but was overruled. So far they love their new home and their new harem. We’ll see if it ends in baby chicks or not.