Can't wash up in the old sink in the used-to-be kitchen because it is full of brick dust and rubble, Jean Pierre having been working today on the ceiling which required drilling big holes in the wall one of which was just over the sink.
Now it used to be a working sink until Hubs accidentally dropped an apricot kernel down the plug hole which has sealed it up so it does not drain at all. Not to worry, the water in the sink is scooped out into a bucket and either used to flush the loo or, if 'dirty' water, then it is thrown with gay abandon out of the front door. Sometimes the whoosh of water lands on a chicken or two, but they don't seem to mind, and a couple of times I have nearly delivered a soaking to Jean Pierre as he goes about his builderly business. Often my feet catch a few splashes so I can end up with soggy shoes if not careful. I have also perfected a one handed toss of the water, and here's what I do just in case you have to throw a bowl of water out of your front door.
So you have a full bowl of water, which has hopefully not dribbled down you as you carry it ever so carefully through the hall and out of the door. If sensible, you would have opened the door first so that you do not have to jiggle about with the door catch. Trying to hold a bowl of water plus opening the reluctant door will truly ensure wetness from the jiggled about water somewhere down the front of you. Now you are outside....you hold the bowl bosom high and sort of do a sideways twist of your upper body. Then with a grand flourish you fling the bowl away from yourself, trying to keep hold of the bowl with one hand, whilst the other hand lets go its hold. You should be able to make a lovely big arc of water, which is quite satisfying. The bigger your flinging movement, the bigger the arc you will achieve, plus.....if you also add 'et voila' at the top of your voice your feeling of achievement will be even greater.
You might be asking 'Why is the pipe not been unblocked', and the answer, if indeed you hold an interest in the subject of our non functioning sink, is that it does not have a pipe that we can see. The sink sits in the wall itself, so somehow the water must have flowed through the stones of the wall. We found the outlet hole a while ago, and that was quite some distance from the actual sink, so perhaps it is better that the hole got blocked since it must have made the house damp having that water flow through it...But we have got hot water, and that comes from a boiler put over the sink by a friend of ours.
But I am going on a bit as per usual! So the sink is full of muck. Couldn't face cleaning it out tonight so thought I would leave that until tomorrow. Or the next day, or the next!
Meanwhile, with the sun shining brightly today, I spent most of my day outside, even being so bold as to divest myself of my cardi. Lots to do..... feed Twoey, watch Twoey to see if she is not too lonely, go watch the other lambs and mums to see if they are alright, back to Twoey for a quick check, pop over to the pig pens to see if pregnant mum is still alright, have a stroke and a chat.
Hubs has gone off sheep. This morning they were in a terrifically scatty mood. Went down the path to the big field, then turned around again and headed en masse back up to the Paddock, but instead of going back into the Paddock they kept going down the driveway, finally fetching up hovering in the lane, with the general inclination being that since the fields were all eaten down, that perhaps the lovely field of six inch high spring wheat which is growing in a field next door to the Side Field might be a better option. Hubs was fuming. I throttled back my laughter. 'Twas not a good time to see the funny side. Anyway, so sheep finally got into the Side Field, leaving two mums with the five offspring in the Paddock, and the spring wheat lives to see another day.
Went on an egg hunt tonight...knew where a stash of eggs was, but had kept forgetting to collect them. Ah. One hen sitting on the stash. With lightning speed (one does not linger in this task as hens can give quite nasty pecks if disturbed) I whipped her off the eggs. Off she went, yelling sufficiently loud enough to get Orpy, the Buff cockerel, back off his roost for the night, which I was quite impressed with actually. He is a laid back boy and does not do effort even when one of the girls is jiggling herself in front of him to encourage him to climb on board. Sometimes he ignores her, sometimes he gets on but is half hearted about the task so often falls off the hen's back, but sometimes he does manage to do the job. We have, after all, got his offspring in the freezer.
So what to do about the stash. Picked all the eggs up at first, but then decided to put half a dozen back so that the hen, if she felt so inclined, could do a brood. An idea has flashed into my head that we could put one or two goose eggs underneath her as well. Hubs said I should do an Internet search to see if it was do-able.......
Twoey is coming along. Had a glorious few minutes seeing if she could find a teat underneath my skirt. Even had a go at nuzzling my leg. She still, however, tends to look a bit lost and lonely. Aw....everyone needs a mum. I still managed, though, to get through the day without letting her out of the Paddock so she could follow me and Bools around. And that, my friend, was quite a task on my part!
Our pregnant Tamworth pig has teats which are looking even more plump, and her belly is starting to hang heavily downwards. I gave her some more bedding and would have got in with her to have a 'moment' together but Hubs has upted the electrical power surge to the electric fencing so didn't.
Other than that, it has been a quietish day........