I stayed up until midnight last night, waiting for Max to get home. And he never appeared. I even braved the cold to stand on the back porch in my pajamas with a tempting frying pan of delicious-smelling cooked sausages. Nothing. Not even a whimper. So I tossed and turned until the wee hours of this morning, fretting about him. You see, he is not what one would call a spring chicken. Each morning, when I let him out to do his first business of the day, he is so stiff that when he walks, his rear competes for the lead with his head. Even his stubby little tail is bent. So given that last night was freezing, all I could think of was his frozen body lying in a ditch somewhere. On my watch. 

Now, I happen to be very fond of this little fellow.
 

He kindly cleans up the floor beneath Charlie's high chair following every meal. And inspects Charlie once he's finished eating, just in case a tasty morsel is hidden in his clothing. He eats sheep nuts and pea pods and barks at the vacuum cleaner and snores louder than Bern after too many Speights. To cut a long story short, I was feeling quite ill at the prospect of what the morning would bring.

So I woke up feeling a little less than perky. And crept out before the kids woke up, just in case I made a gruesome discovery. Nothing. But then I remembered Paul saying that sometimes the dog manages to shut himself in the shearing shed (now why didn't that memory surface at 3am this morning?). And that is exactly where I found the little bugger. Curled up in a downy soft nest of wool beneath the shearing  platform, looking remarkable well rested.    

Thankfully, Grace and I had  planned some long-overdue girl time own for today. Janette very generously offered to mind Charlie, and when Grace chose to see a movie, I sighed with relief. At least I could sit down and doze for a few hours in a comfortable seat (I can't vouch for the rest of NZ, but compared to Canberra, the Invercargill cinema has seats like armchairs). I didn't, however, vouch on seeing this.

Or LOVING it. I tried to close my eyes but they treacherously refused. Ironically enough, Grace didn't really enjoy it very much, so I had to bribe her with a choctop so we could stay until the end. See how impressed she is?

She wouldn't even let me have my photo taken in the WANTED poster. Just begged to be taken home.

We had the longest sleep-in on record today, waking at 8.30am today instead of our usual mind-numbing 5.30am. Must be all this fresh country air. And today, it was very fresh. Like wind-blowing-off-the-snow fresh. With sporadic horizontal showers thrown in, just for good measure. 

The weather didn't deter the kids though. They were out the door as soon as they'd eaten breakfast this morning, rain and all, to say good morning to the sheep.

Charlie joined in today with the sheep feeding, with no crying when the sheep 'talked' to him. He was very generous with his portion of sheep nuts (pellets). He also fed them to the dog. And then to himself. Obviously felt a little low on dietary fibre....

Grace demonstrated her new strategy for ensuring fair distribution of sheep nuts amongst the flock, which include a few lambs who are usually muscled out of the way by their elders. She puts out nuts at one end of the paddock fence, then as soon as the bigger sheep are scoffing their faces, she runs like crazy along the fence line, followed by the lambs, which she then hand-feeds.  Once the others have finished their food, they all run to where she is and push the little ones out of the way. So Grace repeats her strategy again. And again. And again. You get the picture. Got to admire her dedication. 

Yesterday I overheard her telling the sheep that they wouldn't believe it, but we were actually only pretend farmers. I'm can't be sure, but I'd say the sheep figured that one out for themselves the first time Grace fed them in an outfit she'd chosen just for the task - a white skirt and a sparkly blue top that matched her Pumpkin Patch gumboots. And if that wasn't enough of a giveaway, being fed today by a farmer dressed in pink and sheltering from the rain beneath a My Little Pony umbrella might have given the game away.

Following a quick cuppa up the road with Janette this afternoon, Grace went out with Cliff on the quad bike to check on the lambs and feed the working dogs. While I made tea, Charlie kept himself entertained feeding the family dog pieces of Nutri-Grain when he thought I wasn't looking. Oh, and tossing all the shoes and boots that stay at the back door, off the deck. Which I have just retrieved. All twenty four pairs of them.

Grace and I have just returned,  frozen and pink-cheeked, from feeding the hens and collecting the eggs. There are always two eggs laid in the same nesting box, every single day. 

Talk about creatures of habit. And considerate too. Nothing beats a warm egg in each hand on a cold day. Especially when you're bracing yourself against the icy wind-driven rain whilst crossing a sheep paddock with a flock of woolly followers hot on your heels. All too aware that any moment, one of them will probably butt you in the rear.

Janette and her husband Cliff also run sheep, and today the kids got to help them sort the lambs. I use the term help very loosely. I'm fairly certain that it took at least twice as long as it normally would...

Needless to say, the children had an absolute ball. They were each given a Hells Bells to shake, which is like a tin rattle (also known as a Tin Dog) used for moving sheep up the race into the stockyards.

Now I am no sheep farmer, but I am guessing that you are only meant to shake the Hells Bells when you actually need to. You know, to maximise effectiveness. Grace, however, who insisted on referring to hers as a tambourine, kept the sheep entertained every now and then by dancing around with her 'instrument' and singing. Yes, all you farmers out there are welcome to cringe. I did warn you that I was using the word help very loosely... I'm pretty sure the sheep were actually fighting to get into the race because they were scared witless.

As you can see, it would appear that Charlie is well and truly over his fear of the sheep. In the photo below on the right, he was actually standing in the middle of a complete circle of sheep as they milled around the yard.

 

And Charlie's new gumboots were worth every dollar. I just have to hose off all the sheep poo. 

Told you I needed to toughen up. 

 

Last night was the second night in a row that Charlie has slept through without a bottle. I figured that being woken by him two-three times a night was going to very quickly do my head in with Bern being away, so I bit the bullet and went the tough love route. Surprisingly, he hardly fussed the first night and last night he didn't wake at all. Let's hope this is the beginning of a new sleep pattern.

Today we picked up Bern's lovely Aunty Janette, who lives about 500m down the road, and drove into Invercargill to do some shopping. As usual, the drive was punctuated by Grace's running commentary on the various countryside aromas ('I think that smell is actually cow poo Mummy, not sheep wee'). 

We had lunch at Queens Park, Invercargill's stunning town park. Charlie divided his time between delightedly running away from us at every available opportunity, and staring up in awe at some of the largest trees I've ever seen.

Queens Park is also home to the largest live display of Tuatara, endangered reptiles that are found only in NZ. Grace has been desperate to see one since learning about these ancient animals on ABC Kid's The Wot Wots back in Australia. You can imagine her excitement then when this one popped it's head out of a hole just near where we were standing. 

 

 

  
To say Grace was mesmerised would be an understatement. The displays included a skeleton of a young Tuatara, a model of how they lay their eggs in underground tunnels, and all sorts of interesting information. Like how Tuataras are not lizards; the lump on the top of their head is actually a third eye; they sometimes eat their own young; and it takes 12 months for the eggs to hatch.

In the end, the only way I could extract her from the display was by bribing her with a toy Tuatara and a booklet about Tutataras from the gift shop. Oh, and a ride on a giant Tuatara.

 

 

And just in case you were wondering...yes, I am just a little Tuatara-ed out...

While we were in town we finally managed to find a pair of gumboots to fit Charlie. His first gumboots. Very practical. And just a wee bit cute.

Today we survived our very first day of house-sitting all by ourselves. I just love this gorgeous property - no noise, no neighbours, no need to be anywhere, happy children. Just wish we could have Nernie here and it would be perfect. After only ever knowing life in our townhouse, the kids finally have a playhouse, trampoline, swings and a sandpit to occupy them, and Grace has barely been in the house all day.

This afternoon it was so warm that I put the sprinkler on the lawn and let the kids have a splash.  

                                               

When we first arrived in NZ, we were driving down to Faye's from Christchurch when Grace started yelling at us to stop. Thinking something was wrong, we were relieved to discover that she had actually only spotted a sprinkler going in someone's yard. Growing up in Queanbeyan with water restrictions, our children have never known the joy of running through a sprinkler. They had their first introduction at Grandma's, but Charlie was a bit unsure. This time, however, he loved it, and even I had a go.

                                      

Only thing was, the water comes from a bore, and by God it was freezing. 

Obviously I need to toughen up. 

Paul, Katrina and the girls left this morning, and I've hardly seen Grace all day. If she's not playing somewhere in the yard or pinching peas from the garden, then she can be found over at the fence having a chat with Sophie's flock of pet sheep. 

She has a favourite, Ruby, who she remembers from our last trip over here. I thought perhaps their friendship may have soured somewhat after yesterday, when Ruby got a bit excited about the prospect of a feed and head-butted Grace as we crossed the  paddock to collect eggs from the hen house. Despite her initial tears and recriminations, she was back out there first thing this morning feeding them all a bucket of pea pods and discussing rules of conduct with Ruby and the girls.

Charlie is quite taken with the sheep but as soon as one of them baas, he runs away in hysterics. I swear the sheep have figured it out, for they all join in once he starts getting upset, and the more noise they make, the more inconsolable Charlie becomes. He just turns and runs as fast as his little legs can carry him, screaming his head off.

With dinner tonight we had potatoes, carrots and peas straight from the garden, and they were so good that Grace ate everything on her plate. Even the peas. For the first time in about two years. Looks like we'll be having a mighty big pea patch when we eventually get our own place.

Today the children and I drove from Faye's down to Bern's cousin Paul and his wife Katrina's property at Isla Bank, where we're house-sitting for them for about a week. The day before, Grace and I drove to Queenstown to put Nernie on the plane back to Canberra for his final month of work at the Bureau of Meterology (is it just me, or does he look really happy to be leaving?!). 

While I have feeling that it's going to be a long  month, I am comforted by the knowledge that he'll be on the payroll for a little longer. You know, since we currently have no means of income.... 

Our trip from Bannockburn (Central Otago) to Isla Bank (Southland) took about three and a half hours, and took us through some beautiful countryside. The mountains were swathed in thick mist, which Grace informed us were actually mountain mustaches.

Charlie slept almost the entire way, and at some point Grace found Mummy's make-up bag and very quietly decorated herself.