This isn’t Pudgy. This is what Pudgy would look like if I slimmed her down a tad and took her to a photo studio. The Real-Life Pudgy is horribly broody and is in a shockingly bad mood, sitting huddled over everyone ele’s eggs and “bluck-blucking” every time I reach in and lift her out to have a gallop while I get the eggs.
Disney, the cranky-pants little Lavender Araucana who lays the little blue eggs, has obviously given up trying to shove big fat Pudgy out of the way and has taken to laying her eggs under a bush in the chook run. She’s not happy when I come into the run to do the daily egg collection. She squawks at the top of her lungs and makes her feelings very plain. I have a nasty feeling that the minute Pudgy decides that motherhood is not for her, then Disney will go into seclusion in the nesting box.
Hazel is boring. Beautiful (for a chook) but boring. No personality whatsoever.
I’m here at work killing time on the last day. Meetings are done and dusted, my desk is nearly clean and the holidays are beckoning. The leftover desserts are in the staff commonroom from the staff luncheon we had yesterday, but they have fake cream in them so I’m not tempted. People are happily chatting, exchanging gifts and cards and catching up with people that we normally never have time to chat with at any other time of the year. Liz is busily filing things away at the desk next to me and Dan is moving his stuff from his desk, happy because he’s taking the year off to go travelling. Everyone’s in jeans and t-shirts, the pace has slowed and there’s happy chatter sounds everywhere.
This weekend will be filled with frantic ‘getting ready for Christmas’ activities and packing the car for Inverloch. I’m leaving the cats and chooks at home, so I hope that foxes stick to their current roaming patterns and leave the girlies alone. The cats will be inside, no doubt shredding the furniture in between massive bouts of sleeping. My sister and I will both be bringing our thermomixes, so there’ll be lots of cooking and sorbet races going on. Mum can’t quite get her head around how we can possibly have Christmas dinner with a weber and 2 thermies, but she’ll be pleasantly surprised by the end of the day. (Sticky date pudding, anyone?)
If I don’t get a chance to post between now and Christmas, I hope that everyone has a wonderful festive season filled with love, laughter and other assorted merriment. Thanks for reading and I’ll see you later.