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Marlborough District Council Roading has been trying to close our road for some upgrade works for several months now. Everytime they get set to sort out the mess we get heavy rain and flooding and their resources get diverted to open roads closed by slips and wash outs.

Between the 2 bridges that cross Te Hoiere on the way into here, the road on the island is worse than driving up the Ashburton River bed (I chose Ashburton because it's a braided river with lots of shingle and I've tried driving parts of it.)

Another attempt at sorting that out has been scheduled for this week. Road closure between 8am and 5pm weekdays is inconvenient but we aren't trapped. There is another way out which involves an additional 10km (6 miles) of gravel road and 10km back again down State Highway 6 (dodging goats but that is another story).

Rotting haylage is not so valuable or desirable that I'll add 20km to the trip to get it, so last weekday load was today. 

En route I was apprehended by a fox terrier standing in the road. It either had no traffic sense or it had a message for me.  I slowed. It disappeared. Unable to see it from the cab I got out, was bounced at by said dog, and together we headed to the nearest house. Dog was reunited with its pack and I met Graham and Jill - lovely people, long chat. They have a small farm along the bank of Te Hoiere, it floods regularly but their house is on a glorious promontory with views out into the Sound. 

When they heard what mission I was on they asked if I wanted any more rotten hay - the silage pit on the farm next door gets cleaned out about now and the waste piled up for anyone who wants it. A regular supply year on year. Goodness what serendipity. I wonder who sent the wee dog out to get that message to me?

Then at the site I have been extracting from I got so frustrated with trying to pull a bale apart with a pitchfork that I started tugging stuff with my hands… and then the magic happened, layers started to separate, the centre came cleanly out of the bale and the trailer was loaded with great slabs of wet hay in no time at all. I even managed to execute the same trick on a bale I'd given up on a couple of days ago, and there is a nice loose pile waiting for my return in the weekend.

A couple of local builder lads started hanging the doors on my cabin just over a week ago. They stopped me on the way home from Scully walk this morning to say they'd swerve by and finish the job tomorrow.

All in all this turned out to be my definition of a good day.

Tomorrow I will start varnishing on the inside of the cabin.