Guess who had her first day at Preschool today?

 

The poor kid was freezing. And slightly embarrassed to be having her photo taken in front of everyone.  

Just last week we managed to get Grace into East Taieri Preschool five days a week, four hours each morning. And IT'S FREE. The NZ government pays for the first twenty hours of her care. 

In true Morrison style, we were late. I will obviously have to get used to the 8am start time. Mind you, with a view like this on the way, who the hell worries about being late?

Charlie and I stayed for Grace's first day, and as you can see, they both had a wonderful time. And didn't want to leave. 

Today, we went through the car wash, which neither Grace nor Charlie have ever experienced. Grace loved it and immediately wanted to go through again. 

Charlie most definitely did not. Talk about traumatised for life.

Remember the excitement of hearing the tinny Mr Whippy van music coming along the street as a kid? Franticly scrambling to find coins, racing out to flag him down before he passed your house by, and then deliberating over the very important choice of ice cream cone, which seemed to melt immediately from beneath the chocolate coating.

 

And, all these years later, still does.

I took the kids for a walk down the beach this afternoon, and Charlie insisted on bringing his new toy lawn mower. The water might not have been warm enough for a swim, but at least the sand got mowed.

Today we went for a drive to have a look at a property we're interested in at Mosgiel. It has everything we've been dreaming of for all these years, stuck in our townhouse, and just down the road is the local preschool and school. Even Bern seems impressed. With its proximity to a trout fishing stream. Glad to see we have our priorities in order. 

With rain clouds looming as we arrived home, I took the kids for run around at the playground around the corner. Where Grace promptly discovered 'mushrooms' growing under a tree, which she wanted to pick and cook for dinner. Given that they were actually toadstools (now I'm no expert, but given that they were fluorescent yellow, I was pretty sure), I was rather reluctant to add food poisoning to our list of new experiences. So we gathered Douglas Fir pinecones for a fire instead. Much healthier. 

  

And just in case you are confused, yes, it is Summer. Sunscreen and icecream one day, winter woolies and open fires the next...

After farewelling Janette this morning, who was picked up (some might say rescued...) by Cliff and Sophie, I decided to take the kids to the beach. The sun was shining, the tide was out, and it just seemed like a great idea. Grace agreed. Charlie didn't. Passionately. 

So, after half an hour of hysterics, we were home. Eating hokey pokey icecream instead. 

Today, ten days after we arrived, we swapped the country for the coast. Once Grace had said her goodbyes to the sheep, had one last ride on the motor bike with Cliff (having first reapplied her lip gloss of course), invited herself back to help with the shearing and the lambing, I finally managed to bundle her into the car.

With Janette along for moral support, we eventually set off. Not even half an hour later, having shelled and eaten the bag of fresh peas Cliff had picked for her, Grace started. Will there be lambs where we'll be staying? Can we go to the beach as soon as we arrive? How many minutes until we get there? How many NOW? 

What seemed like an eternity later, we arrived at the little fishing village of Taieri Mouth. And promptly got lost. In the rain. Did I mention that the village is really, really tiny? Eventually, after getting directions form a rather bemused local, we found the  holiday cottage (also know in NZ as a crib or a bach). And the very first thing we saw upon arrival? A lamb, tethered on the neighbour's  verge. Thank God.

The kids had a wonderful last day with Emma, Sophie and 'Little Lily' today. While slathering the kids with sunscreen before letting them loose outside, it was hard to believe that just yesterday Charlie and Grace were rugged up in jackets and beanies.  

Once sheep were fed and eggs collected, there were bubbles to chase, games to be played, trampoline etiquette to be taught (and learned), and scooters to zoom around on. 

Not to mention a waterslide to cool down on. Despite some hard landings courtesy of the generous application of Sunlight detergent, they had a fantastic time. 

 

Well, almost all of them. Charlie screamed blue murder every time he was taken near the waterslide, and was much happier watching the action from a safe distance. In the dolls pram. With his chauffeur. Where else.

Today was one of those happy and sad days. Happy, because  we have been looking forward to seeing Paul, Katrina and the girls. Sad, because it signaled the beginning of the end of our holiday here. In other words, no more pretending that this beautiful property is ours. 

So we spent the day preparing a lovely homecoming for them. We cleaned, we tidied, we cooked. Even Charlie pitched  in.

We also made the most of the short-lived sunshine today to get the washing done, which Grace insisted on hanging out. The beauty of a prop clothesline (obviously apart from its main objective) is that it can be lowered right down to her level. So she had a wonderful time pegging out the towels, and I had a wonderful time watching her.

I think she did a mighty fine job. Especially considering she's only four and a half.

And now I know she can peg out our washing, I will be adding a prop clothesline to the wish list.
 

Having mastered the ironing some days ago, today Charlie decided to help me with the mountain of washing that had piled up due to the poor weather we've had over the last few days.  

Again, the term help is open to interpretation.

Once he was done emptying the contents of the cupboard beneath Katrina's laundry tub, he had a well-earned rest on his favourite Charlie-sized stool and hummed a little tune. Butter wouldn't melt.

While Charlie and I did the washing inside, the Isla Bank Sheep Nut Delivery Service was hard at work out in the yard. Deliveries are made at various intervals along the fence line by a happy little driver singing Baa Baa Black Sheep at the top of her lungs. If a customer has not arrived in time for receipt of a delivery, the driver produces a stick and bangs it on the fence to hurry them along.

It was a stunning day today. Check out our beautiful patch of borrowed heaven. How lucky are we.

 

 

Only problem, the girls are enjoying this gorgeous weather so much that they are refusing to come home. 

So I'm off to bribe them into the hen house with a bucket of scraps. And if that fails? Then the delinquents won't be allowed out again. 

If I ever manage to get them back in again, that is. 

Courtesy of a 4am wake-up call from Charlie this morning, I was up with the sparrows. Actually, even the sparrows aren't silly enough to be awake at that time. I have obviously grown accustomed to my newly-acquired 7am starts, as I have felt neither bright-eyed nor bush-tailed all day.

Despite the blustery day, we spent as much time as possible outdoors today. Starting with watering the garden and tunnel house (greenhouse) and choosing vegetables for tonight's meal, one of my favourite parts of the day. And as you can see, we are spoiled for  choice.

Then we explored the garden from top to bottom, collected pine cones, and played hide and seek. Grace kept hiding near the sheep, which meant she was always easy to find. All Charlie and I had to do was look for a small flock of sheep standing at the fence line, staring expectantly in one particular direction. It's what one might call a dead giveaway.

After lunch and Charlie's sleep, the kids occupied themselves for hours in the playhouse and sandpit, prompting me to revise my wish list for our new place. Trampoline, chickens, dishwasher, sheep, paddock for sheep, swings, sewing room, playhouse, sandpit, lottery ticket.....

The wind gradually picked up as the day progressed, and now it is absolutely wild outside. The laugh-and-you'd-loose-your-dentures kind of windy. Grace rugged up to go and say goodnight to the sheep about half an hour ago. Now, as I look out the window, I can see her discarded jacket and beanie laying in the lawn, and a little further along, her nightie. And despite the wind, our daughter is out there dancing around the lawn. In her knickers. 

Hello pneumonia.