An experiment

I'm trying out something new here, just for fun.  Comics!  With the art kind of cobbled together because I can't draw.

Here is my very first attempt at it, just kind of a prototype to see if it would even work out.

OK, it seems that proof of concept is achieved!

Now for one with content that is truly amusing.

The naughtiest guinea pig

This is the story of a very naughty guinea pig and her 19 hours of shenanigans.

Yesterday, I put the guinea pigs out on the grass in their individual boxes.  You know, as you do.

Virtually a suburban farm we’ve got here, what with the grazing animals out to pasture.  For my amusement, I arranged the boxes so that the guineas’ nibbling would create a checkerboard pattern.  See?   It kinda worked. 

And then when it’s time to go inside, one by one I just lift up a corner of a box, pick up the guinea around its midsection, and take it back home to their cage.  They’re used to this and are quite docile.

Except this time.  This time there was a very naughty guinea pig. 

Whiskers, the guinea who still squeals in terror when you pick her up and sits there with the whites of her eyes showing, expecting to be eaten at any moment.  Whiskers, with the sleek slippery coat.  Whiskers, who’s so nice and plump that my hand doesn’t actually fit around her midsection anymore.  When I reached in for Whiskers, she squealed, wiggled mightily, and then scampered away like lightning.  That Whiskers! 

I went after her and it was like some sort of slapstick routine as we chased around the back yard.  I thought I had her cornered in some bushes.  Then, she gave me the slip:  she dashed past my feet and zoomed under the deck.   This deck.  The one with the standing water at the lower end, due to all the rain we’ve gotten lately.

For a while she sat right at its outer edge, just behind the broccoli plants.  But she must have become annoyed with my efforts to reach in and snatch her, because she retired to the inner section and I lost sight of her.

I called to her in my nicest voice, but she wasn’t having it.  I brought out treats to tempt her.  Nope.  So, with a heavy sigh, I put on some old clothes and a headlamp.  Fine, I thought, I’ll go get her.

There is enough space at the lower end to crawl on hands and knees through the puddle and into the under-deck space.  The ground slopes up, however, while the deck of course stays level.  Soon I was army-crawling and then inch-worming my way through the mud.  Did you know that when this house was built, the construction crew tossed all of the little broken bits of cinderblock under the deck?  I didn’t know that either.  Now I do.  My ribs found every one of them.  I wormed in until I was sandwiched between the earth at my belly and the decking on my back.

Whiskers was sitting in the very furthest corner, the one under my bedroom window.  There’s about 4 inches of clearance between the ground and the decking there.  Because of the way the ground slopes, I couldn’t see her straight on; I had to lay my cheek against the soil, turn my head, and peer up.  I reached my bamboo pole in after her; it was a good three feet too short.  I pleaded with her to come out; she was doing no such thing.  She sniffed around and scratched and made little squeaks, seeming quite pleased with herself and this perfect little guinea pig home she’d found.  

After a while I realized I wasn’t going to win this round and reversed myself out.  It was about 9 pm by this point and I was soaked and shivering.   Figuring that she would be reasonably safe from cats there for the night unless she foolishly decided to go exploring around the backyard, I cleaned up and went to bed.

I went shopping first thing the next morning and then assembled my armamentarium.  That’s a live trap baited with apple up on the deck as a Plan B, and below from left to right we’ve got a scissors and duct tape for on-the-fly MacGuyvering, Arram’s nerf gun with 20 feet of string attached to the dart, two pool noodles on a stick, a butterfly net attached to the long bamboo pole, a broom with an extending handle, another butterfly net, and a leaf rake.   

I put the headlamp on again and prepared myself mentally for another descent.  Just then, it started to rain, because of course it did.

I found it somewhat easier to clamber under the deck this time, as I could scoot along the relatively concrete-free path I’d smoothed with my belly the night before.  There were fewer creepy-crawlies than I’d feared:  I didn’t see a single weta, and the one time I got startled and squealed like a guinea pig myself, it was a false alarm due to some fluff blowing past me.   There were only just some ants, really, and this one fascinating spider dangling, dead, from a vertical silk and fully encased in shimmering white mold.  For this attempt, I brought my phone along.  Not only could I take pictures, but I was texting Mel as I went.  Our whole exchange was comedy gold.

I was pleased to find that Whiskers had survived the night like a champ and was right where I’d left her. 

My long butterfly net reached her.  I wasn’t able to net her, but I did chase her out of the corner.  I blocked her way back with the pool noodles.  After several repetitions, I managed to confine her into a small space that was much closer to me.  However, there were still all manner of blocks and boards for her to hide behind, secure from nets and nerf guns, and I literally could go no further.  I climbed out again, defeated by a rodent. 

I was just fetching the shovel, intending to dig her out, when Mel arrived with a crowbar.  A little Kiwi ingenuity, and she had one of the boards up in a jiffy.  From there, we could see the silly little guinea, but couldn’t quite reach her.  But what’s gonna work?  Teamwork!

I went back under for a  third time while Mel waited at the hole.  I harassed Whiskers with sticks, moving her into position so that Mel could pounce on her from above.  Mel made some good grabs, but the guinea kept bolting away.  Once, Whiskers practically blundered right into me in her blind panic; if only I'd had a little better range of motion I’d have gotten her.  Finally, the humans prevailed and Mel yelled triumphantly, ‘I’ve got her!’

The deck was easy to put back together.  I, on the other hand, required a little more work. 

But all in all, this story has a happy ending: Whiskers the guinea is safe and sound and back with her sister and nieces, working out her newly-acquired PTSD issues in a quiet little shoe box nest.

I am unreasonably delighted by this

Look.  LOOK!!



I would seriously like to buy a beer for the F&P engineer who must have been sittin' around in his cubicle one day, and decided to have a bit of fun.

In case this is not immediately apparent for the non-Kiwis, here is a reference.
 

A question and answer session

"Boys, what's a hot water bottle used for?"

Amiri:  "You put cold water inside it and then during the summer it gets hot so you get hot water and it won't interrupt your summer fun."

Arram:  "On a long bush walk, you carry it on your belt and you drink from it."

Boy, are they going to be confused when they discover some hotties in their beds* tonight.

*Oh yes, I am fully aware of the double entendre of that phrase for Americans.  I share it with you so that you can pause and blink for a second, as I did the other day, while discussing kids' bedtime routines with my Kiwi friends over dinner.
   

We had so much fun, we lost track of the time

It was rainy this weekend, so we got all the odds and ends out of the cupboard and did some imaginative play.  Which led to the development of this guy:

The Five-Fingered Hand Fish.

(You kind of had to be there.)

Why yes, I did superglue googly eyes to the backs of my fingers.  What, that's not how you spent your Saturday?
 

Packers vs. Bears

Happy Father's Day to the greatest Daddy and Grandpa.  A man who literally went to the ends of the earth for his kid.  What an amazing role model you are.  I love you, Dad.  Can't wait to see you again.

The old, 'Mom, I need a costume for tomorrow' routine

The children have been reading New Zealand authors recently.  Today, in honour of Margaret Mahy, it's Crazy Hair Day at school! We whipped up a crazy wig for him last night.

There's nothing crazy about this photo, except of course for the intensity of the play that preceded his crash.  I just wanted to include a photo of Arram too.

In which I encounter wee beasties

So here's what happened at home:





Then I went out for lunch and met a nice kitty named Trulia at the cafe.  She sat on my lap and purred while I ate.

After that I went to the beach and these things happened.

Mama, I made you something

It's a bit hard to read the second pane, but the entire message reads, "I heart you very much."  Aww.
 

I'm not sure what I'm more scared of...

...the peppers* themselves,

or the pests in my yard that are apparently capable of nibbling on them.

*Alongside a regular sweet pepper for comparison are three Ghost Peppers, the world's hottest chili:  400 times hotter than Tabasco sauce and used in India as wild elephant repellant.
 

They went thump thump thump

This is our feijoa tree.

And this is a feijoa.

I've decided they taste like strawberry-citrus pears to me.  I've been enjoying buying bags of them for a gold coin from neighbours who have unmanned fruit stands with honesty boxes at the end of their driveways.

But I won't need to do that for a while!  I went out and gave our tree an experimental little shake.  Here's what came tumbling down.  The biggest one is the size of a goose egg.

A quiet walk along the stream

I took myself off for a little explore the other day.  I started at the big sculpture that catches the sun.

There were feathers embedded in the path!

They were part of a neat story.

And there were fern-themed motifs too, because, it's New Zealand.

I walked past some horses.  Why isn't that big brown one wearing a coat?

I called him over and asked, but he wouldn't tell.

Their paddock was actually part of a cool equestrian centre.  Maybe the jackets were part of their post-workout cool-down.

I also passed a vineyard in the setting sun.  Which gave me a good idea for how to relax at home.

For a while, they were called Kangaroo Eggs in our house

Kinder Eggs are the best things in the world.  They aren't available in the US for safety reasons (small parts are choking hazards).  But here we throw caution to the wind.

They're foil-wrapped hollow chocolate eggs.

With little yellow capsules inside.  They open with a satisfying pop! to reveal toys.

Arram assembled a robot from his!

And Amiri made a wiggly hologram scene!

The pounce

I press the button and the garage door rolls up.  Its sound alerts the beasts and they burst through the door to sight their quarry.  I park the car and silence its engine.  The beasts interpret this as the signal to make their final approach.  Small hands grasp the door handle and wrench it open.  

Before I can defend myself they've swarmed the car and then they're on me.

I never even stood a chance.

The big cross-country race

All the kids competed in a cross-country race this morning.  It had been delayed from last term due to rain.

Here are all of the kids sitting on the new turf.  They are wearing their brightly-coloured pod t-shirts.

Then they walked onto the court.  See Amiri in the red?

They lined up, and then they were off!

We ran across to meet them as they rounded the front of the school.



After that they had to run around the school, loop around the neighbouring park, and then down the hill.  It was a kilometer, all told.  Four or five big kids ran with each of the younger groups as chaperones, to ensure that no one got lost.  While they were doing that, we scurried back down to the finish line.



After that great finish, I went out to give him a high-five.  I was so proud!

 

Is that the place with the gumboot?

We had fun farewelling the School Holidays with a trip to Kiwi Valley.  And yes, it IS the place behind the big gumboot on the hill.

We arrived a bit early and got to have a coffee before entering, which was a great way to get the adults properly fortified for the adventure.  Kiwi Valley is a working farm (you can even buy eggs on your visit) filled with sunshine, happy animals, and genuinely stoked-to-be-there teenage workers.  The first stop is the petting zoo, where you can hold bunnies and rats.  Amiri and Arram were not so sure about that, so after approximately 0.0001 seconds of arm-twisting I volunteered my lap for holding purposes and the children clustered around to pet my new little friends.

Then the Fabulous Five went for a tractor ride.

We drove through a field with cows, ducks, and a big warren of wild rabbits.  There was a great view. 

Then we did the big labyrinth.  In addition to finding our way out, which was enough of a challenge, we had to also locate the birdcage, the goat barn...

and the hidden man-made cave, which had a waterfall inside it.

Then we went out on the farm walk.  There were more goats out there.

And I thought it was funny how the sheep left clumps of wool on the fences.

There were lots of chickens and I simply HAD to hold a little chook.  He nibbled snacks out of the boys' hands.

And then it was time for the PONY RIDES.  They got their helmets on and lined up.

Amiri was an old hand at this, a seasoned cowpoke from way back.  (Notice how the pommel has a little horsey on it.)

Arram was a little more cautious and had some quiet psych-himself-up time before the big ride.

I accompanied him at first, but he excused me after we rounded the first bend and he explored the rest of the track on his own.

And because we had so much fun, then we did all of those things again.  And we patted the cow and the loud donkey on our way out but only waved goodbye to the pigs, because the sign said they bite.