Hello England,

I have come out of the midday sun because I am a growed-up & I know it’s bad for you & also to send a few e-mails & catch up on Blog.

Nothing to do with the fact that my knees are tingling.

I am sitting on the front deck in the shade & using the laptop. Inca is keeping me company & the only thing obstructing my view is the blue tarpaulin, which Eric has stretched over the gap at the pool end of the deck.

He did this on Sunday evening to keep the breeze off the bbq we had on Sunday evening. Jacket potatoes & steak always taste good don’t they ?

As I type I can hear incessant, fluting birdsong, lambs calling to Mum & the absent clucking of the chichens rooting in the flower-beds. The chichens escape every day from their run despite Eric blocking up holes regularly. It is lovely to see them scratching about for treats but the Tanners don’t want them free-range. This is partly for the mess they make in the beds & partly because the eggs are harder to locate.

At the moment though, the chichens are having it their own way. The two fussy, little bantams, one black, one white, are scratching at my feet now. I really like these little birds. Their feathered legs remind me of the petticoats worn by the ladies in the Deep South & I imagine they speak to each other in lilting Bible-Belt drawl.

The only noise spoiling the pastoral peace is the frequent quarry-trucks which pass the end of the driveway. Cedar Lodge is situated in an acoustic bowl, which means the trucks’ noise is amplified. It is also half-way up a hill which ensures that the engines coming up are usually at full chat.

The noise isn’t too intrusive normally but at the moment there is a run on & the trucks are passing the house every minute or so. They come from a quarry half way along Taotaoroa Road & although my understanding of the logistics is a bit vague, I think they are especially busy because they are delivering a ship-load of coal somewhere.

I need to ask Harriette really, her grasp of it is much more acute than mine.

Last night, during dinner, Eric was discussing with Michelle when he had last cooked polenta.

‘Placenta ?’ asked Harriette.

Maybe you had to be there but it made me laugh.

Day 9 of good weather here & by all accounts, the temperature is some 5 degrees hotter than it should be at this time of year. It will be a bit of a shock if/when this good spell breaks.

Sounds like Eric is just returning home from another day of persecuting harmless dog owners.

I will take that as my cue to end & send some e-mails.

Only one person has told me their favourite book so far.

Come on you lot, don’t be bashful.

Cx

ps. How did thick pig get out of his room ?