Tigger's Wee-Blog

F's take on the world Tigger left behind.

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Donkey Lane

August 09, 2022

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Blue Donkey

July 26, 2022

Car Donkey Speed

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White Knuckles

July 16, 2022

Speed

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In memorium - Gail Riekie

Tigger aka Mr T

2007/8? to 2023

Tigger's Mum

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TIgger aka Mr T

Your pawprints are on our hearts

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Recent Favorites

For some reason I'm unable to get comments to publish on other blogs. Blogger glitch of some kind perhaps.... Why are these things never universal? Some suffer, most don't get affected. We are into our third nor'west storm in two weeks. Chinook. It gets wearing. Equinoxial gales? Super El Niño? Scully is on a 3-day sleepover while her family is away at some rubgy event for her older human sister. She's missing her humum but rather keen on the sheepskin I have let her occupy while the wind has us trapped indoors. The build moved on a bit this week... ...and this morning to roofers came out in driving rain to measure up. The plywood shell is 'bracing' (stops racking; diagonal movement of the wooden frames), and will be covered by an outer cladding in due course. Shallots and garlic have pushed up from the earth in the veg garden Tiny fungi bloomed on the track last week - like a blaze of dessicated coconut dashed about Each new exciting fungus only seems to last...

Verjus

'I was only away two hours and look at the mess you've made! You can't be left unsupervised.' Ooo er. Surveyed the scene: 'Fair point.' Rampant grapevine from the neighbour's side of the adjoining garages had been threatening to engulf the lot. Since Old Mike passed away the new owner has done nothing about the state of the 'garden'. The Egyptian Strawberry tree between their shed and garage has grown so large it has blocked the gap through which the back of the garden was accessible. The tree provided an escape route for the grape vine which now tumbles down from great height and spreads its tendrils into two neighbouring properties swallowing fences, sheds, our garage,.... (And, just to pile on the insult, the inaccessible back garden had become a roof high, gutter blocking, tangle of brambles.) Mr B had gone house clearing and I was standing about home, hands in pockets, looking for some trouble to get into. The grapevine on the garage roof jus...

Quick - before it rains again

Rain stopped during the night. The forecast says rain again Monday (all the way through to and including next Saturday). Yesterday, suffering cabin fever, I drove down to Blenheim with the trailer to get a load of wood chips. While there I had a long chat to some experts in 'rainwater harvesting and storage' about tanks and pumps. Today I raced to get the posts along the edges staked and screwed in place so that I could empty the trailer. It needs another load to be as deep as I want it but it is already better than mud. The edges are broken vineyard posts which we can buy down the road for $2 each. A steal. It costs the vineyard about $5 per post just to pull the nails out, but, the manager explained, it keeps the workers busy with something to do when it is too wet to work in the vineyard itself. He'd be paying them even if they were doing nothing. The mechanical harvesters knock the posts about a bit and that vineyard replaces about 1800 posts per year. ...

Traps

Messages binged on Friday morning..."can you come out and do the traps in 15 mins?" Scully was pleased. Excited. Giving forth all sorts of vocalizations that generally denote incitement, encouragement and "c'mon let's get going". Only the day before I had reminded Mr B to add a jar of cheap peanut butter to the groceries. My plan was to supplement the bait - which is normally pieces of rabbit, a bait that appeals to stoats - with some peanut butter to encourage rats to explore the traps. Scully is unreasonably fond of the pieces of rotting bait that we throw away as we clear each trap and reset it. She is well enough behaved to understand a firm 'NO' but I suspect her GPS marker clicks at every place there is discarded old bait. She did attempt once or twice to lick the peanut butter smearing-stick when I wasn't paying attention to her manoeuvres Next day on our walk I caught her rolling in something.... "what's that on your fur?" ...

Hiatus

Retirement isn't like going on a holiday. On holiday one can (if it's your thing) totally 'veg out' knowing that when the holiday is over it's back to routine. I'm not sure I wanted to start my new life style by throwing all routine under a bus, so I didn't change my alarms. Despite getting up determined to tackle each day, the time hasn't conformed to any plan I made for it. Rapid decline of Mr B's mum, and her eventual admission to hospital put all travel plans on hold. We did manage 3 days camping in East Dorset with Mr B's daughter and two grandchildren in the days immediately following my end of work. I wouldn't have called it a triumph, but nobody got injured, lost, starved, of died of hypothermia. Success can be measured in a variety of ways. Over the following couple of weeks, while Mr B balanced parental visits in opposite directions from home (they divorced over 40 years ago), I tackled mundane objectives to cull possessions...