Mother’s Got A Dot Com

We had 10 sheep that were going to be mothers. 9 of them are now mothers – the last one died inexplicably yesterday, after having given birth to a pretty little lamb. There is an explanation, actually – there was very likely a second lamb stuck in there. The breed of sheep that we have (Norwegian wild sheep) very rarely have two lambs, but this one did, or so it would seem. Several of her colleagues did so too this year, but they usually pop them out like champagne corks, so when she’d had her one, we thought she was done.

We hadn’t really planned on hand-rearing a lamb this year, and maybe we won’t have to. One of the other lambs was “forgotten” by its mother, and was denied acces to all the udders around. She rose to the challenge, and took it upon herself to survive, against all odds. So, she trots around, and steals milk from all the sheep – a little here, and a little there. She looks as if she’s going to make it, and is almost as well fed as the others.

We’re hoping for another tenacious one. If not, we’ll just have to get her one of those pet beds in the bathroom, name her Mary’s, and feed her from a bottle.

Yes. Will take pictures. They’re adorable little potential barbecues.

Now, that’s an eye-catching heading, if ever there was one.

Well, my water heater lives it’s own little life. Near the bottom, there is a pressure valve. The reason I know this, is that some time ago, this valve started leaking. No, not your nice, little dripping sort of leak. It gushed water. That’s when I learned that this was a pressure valve. I also learned how to stop it, by making several panicked telephone calls to manufacturers and plumbers. After having been put on hold for about two years, while the experts were pondering, and water was still gushing.

I also learned that there is another valve, that you can use to turn the water supply to the heater off, thus making it empty itself, rather than being an ever-gushing source of water. They told me this after the pondering, and the being put on hold. Finally, they worked out that I needed a plumber and a new valve.

That was sorted. Now, 3 months later – same problem. From time to time, the valve is gushing. I now know what to do as an immediate measure, but it’s a bit like peeing in your pants. It gets cold after a while. And I have to start all over again. The valve was probably not the problem in the first place, but even the manufacturers couldn’t come up with a better idea.

Now – I don’t really know why I’m telling you this. Actually, I do know. I was given the phrase Hansgrohe faucet, and this is what came to mind – directly from my domestic fount (pardon the pun) of everyday woes. It’s probably a very bad idea to install a faucet on a pressure valve, unless you’re into in-house explosions.

Does every household appliance known to man have a little chip installed, that makes it pack it in two days after the warranty period runs out, or am I just being paranoid???

I’m lucky. My hubby is not into sports.

He’s not glued to the TV screen 24/7 on weekends, he couldn’t care less if there’s a football match on, or skiing, or whatever. Sport is flicked over in our household.

Now, in my sister’s life, things are different. She has a football fanatic hubby, and three boys. Guess what they’ve inherited? A lifetime membership in the Manchester United (or perhaps Liverpool FC) fan club, that’s what. She’s a patient soul, and grateful for small mercies, like the fact that her hubby sometimes takes all three boys to football matches. In England.

As for me, I don’t get it. I quite like swimming, but not to the point of watching other people doing it. I’ve also been known to enjoy a game of badminton. Actually playing it. Badminton or tennis on TV is like watching paint dry. Skiing, or running? Come on. I know one of them is going to come in a fraction of a second before the others, and I don’t care which one it is. (Don’t try to explain. I still won’t get it).

I’m just eternally grateful that whenever we do manage to travel a bit, there’s no mention of sports events. I know that if we ever manage to make it to USA, New York Yankees tickets will not be on the agenda. We might catch a rodeo though (no, probably not in NYC), to experience a bit of local culture…

#2 Brat is probably moving to Denmark in August – she’s applied to several design colleges there, and has got scores of butterflies in her stomach these days. She’s submitted her application assignments, and is waiting for word on round 2 of the application process.

#1 Brat wants to travel around the world, and is coming back home to work and save money for the adventure. #3 Brat is probably going on to add some academic exams to his CV – he should have gone into apprenticeship as a carpenter, but the building trade is still trembling, and securing a place is difficult. So, he’s doing the sensible thing. #4 Brat is going on to high school.

It looks like we’ll still be 7 people around the dinner table next year, and there’s no chance of a home theater seating arrangement for 2 any time soon. Just as well. Worrying about one at a time is quite enough at the moment. When #1 Brat goes on her world tour, I’ll be worried enough for a lifetime.

Note to self: This summer may be the last chance to take a familiy photo for a loooong time. Grab it!

10 very efficient fat burners to do this spring in our garden:

1. Dig out/ find/ carry flattish rocks to cover an area of 3×3 meters, to make a nice place for a café table and 2 chairs.

2. When that is done, fill wheelbarrow x times with fine gravel to cover the cracks.

3. Enjoy a cup of coffee on café chairs with hubby.(Not a fat burner, but an essential part of motivation!)

4. Move the 2 HUGE pots we were given last year to said spot, fill with earth, and plant something nice in them.

5. Clean out all the flowebeds.

6. Do the same with the vegetable beds/patches, and the strawberry beds.

7. Move all overspill perennials to the overgrown slope that goes down from the outbuilding, in an attempt to fight the weeds there.

8. Make new vegetable/herb garden closer to the house.

9. Design outdoor kitchen, start work on it.

10. Finish the rock garden that I started on last year.

This should at least build muscles…

I do a lot of proofreading these days. I correct Mystery Shopper reports, and Mystery Shopping is no longer a mystery to me.

I’m also quite au fait with the service level in various jewelry stores around the globe. As well as fine men’s clothing outlets, shoe stores and quite a few restaurants.Working from home sure gets you out and about…

Yesterday, I also started on a new little adventure – I am now officially a travelling salesperson. That is – I picked up my collection of children’s clothing, that I will be demonstrating at home parties. The commission is quite good, but the best part is that the clothes are all designed locally, by a small company not far from here. They are fun and functional, and the prices are affordable too.There is an Internet store too, of course, but home party clients get 10% off the e-store prices, as they’ve experienced that the personal touch is good for sales.

I’ll be starting next Monday, with a demonstration at my sister’s (bless her heart). Should be fun, as I’m totally new to this, and my head is full of newly acquired info that will probably come out helter-skelter… I hope Sis invites some benevolent souls.

Oh – and the last bit of white stuff (a stubborn mound in our yard) disappeared yesterday. So it’s officially spring!

I’m not feeling up to struggling with various keywords today. My partner in crime blogging has given me a list of weird ones – a long list. I looked at it, and thought what a strange blog I’m going to have for the week to come.

But I’m not in the mood to be creative. Down in the dumps, really. Not at all inspired to insert anything about Argentina travel in a sentence, paragraph or post.

I think I’ll just post another one of Miracle Boy’s self-portraits, just to cheer myself up.

On Monday night, we got the sad news that a friend of ours had died of a massive stroke.

She was 43. She had her first stroke, due to an aneurism, 8 or 9 years ago, and had lived with the sword over her head since. She was 5 months pregnant when the first one hit her, and her baby girl will be 9 years old in July.

You never know. Which, in many ways, is a good thing. Our friend struggled for all these years with the fear of leaving her children behind, and sadly, that’s what happened in the end.

We try to learn from these things. Learn to live life now. Hard lessons though.

Happy Easter, everyone!

In our case, today has been a Happy Eater, as we invited the inner family circle (which got our number up to 16) to an impromptu barbecue in the sunny side of our yard.

This is how it looked, just a couple of hours ago. In honor of the fact that it had come of age, and was eminently drinkable, we even popped a couple of bottles of 10 year old Margaux.

A very enjoyable afternoon.

Yesterday, Hubby took the monster horse out to try out his new harness, and as you can see, it fits like a glove. The two tiny Brats were taken for a ride, and loved it. Here’s a picture of the monster horse, Hercules, with Brats and handler:

Climbing the Himalayas? Island-hopping in Greece? All very well, surely, but I’m enjoying the coming of spring right here in my own back yard. If that makes me insular, so be it. At least I don’t have to pack a thing, or worry about planes, transfer, hotels, stomach bugs, or whether I could survive on yak milk.
Right now, that’s the way I like it.

Did I remember to wish everyone a Happy Easter? Never mind – one more time won’t hurt.

It wasn’t a bomb. Technically, it wasn’t a bomb threat either, the young lad responsible had sent an email to a major newspaper, threatening with a blood bath/massacre in the next 48 hours.

Whe he saw what commotion he had caused, he turned himself in. According to him, it was an April Fool’s that got out of hand. And that got caught a bit late by the newspaper desk.

Yeah. Slightly. Some of the 1200 kids involved may well be traumatized, but if they can’t take a joke… At least they got an extra day off. That sort of thing gives 3-6 in this country, so the “joke” is on him, you might say.