March 1st
Islamb has run away again.
According to the House God - who seems to know everything
that goes on; she has gone back to the paddock next door because
it is the home
of a cult led by The Exceptionally Reverend Woollyam Ram moon
(aka Roger the Dodger).
Called the Church of Lambintology, the cult has rapidly gained
in size, due to the Reverends’ (exceptional) ability
to purloin young ewes from around the district. Enticing them
with an equal mixture of charm and bullshit, the (Exceptionally)
Reverend Moon spend his days chatting, eating and pollinating
thereby ensuring a rapidly growing flock of believers.
According to the Reverend (Exceptional or not), a message
explaining the Origin of Sheep was left for him under a cow
pat in 2009.
It (apparently) informed him that he was the Earthly Leader
of the cult and as such could do what he liked while everyone
else obeyed him. He took his job very seriously and as a consequence
is an enormously fat sheep with about 150 kids (Lambs).
It’s just so hard to believe that our little Islamb
is taken in by it. We will have to rescue her and put her
through some intensive De-Prolambing.
Zeus; the only one to have actually met with the Reverend,
maintained he was ‘quite frankly the most boring, self-indulgent
sheep on the planet’.
The perfect qualification for a cult leader.
March 2nd
Nibbler
has gone away for a few days.
He is staying with a couple of mares, one of whom has a male
horse complex which needs addressing.
Basically she wants to kill them all.
We felt that Hoof Hefner, AKA Nibbler, would be just the
horse to help her get over this, besides he was the only one
of the boys to volunteer.
“No bloody way,” said Persil when I mentioned
the assignment to him. He has met this mare up close.
“I don’t THINK so,” said the Phantom, who
listens to Persil.
“Clover?” said Nibbler, “Did you say RED
clover?”
I had made a point of talking about the fact that the paddock
was full of it.
So there he is, as far away as possible from the mares who
are separated from him by an electric tape, sitting around
stuffing himself full of clover while completely oblivious
to the ranting insults of the mare.
“Fat hairy Dyke” he told me later, “not
that I’ve got anything against hairiness,” he
explained, “I mean that would be just wrong, wouldn’t
it”.
March 4th
Nibbler has injured himself.
According to Ruby (One of the mares he is staying with) Nibbler
was showing off - galloping round wildly, bucking and bouncing.
Nibbler’s account was altogether different - he’d
been piloting a rescue helicopter when the door fell off...it’s
an excuse I’ve made myself so I find it hard to believe
him.
Anyhow, the resulting injury is fairly nasty - one very swollen
hock joint which needs twice a day hosing and poulticing.
Of course Nibbler is loving all the attention, bed rest with
meals brought to him regularly please him immensely.
“Sugar lumps make swelling go right down”, he
told me, “and a bag of carrots might help the pain”
he said, wincing as he flexed his injured hock.
March 27th
I seem to be back in a Time Warp. Kurt Vonnegut would call
it a Time Quake.
One minute it was March 4th and the next it is March 27th.
Weird...or what?
My life over the last few weeks could be defined thus...
1. Nibbler came home and is running amok with the boys -
his hurt hock became less painful in proportion to the amount
of attention he did not get.
2. Lambo is Missing in Action and has been gone for a week
- not looking good.
3. The rest of the sheep moved up to a friend’s place
to get to know the ram - Bedlamb had to accompany him as Lambo
is not here for him to play with.
4. I put my back out and am very grumpy because of it
5. Zeus has a secret stash of rabbits he is not telling anyone
about
6. I had to go to what was quite possibly the most boring
day of my life.; a lecture by a Social Worker.
Social Workers are people who think everybody is special
(Except for Cynical people like me). Social Workers also like
to use groups of words like ‘Client outcomes’
and "Reflect Upon’ and ‘Learning Activities’.
Social Workers are trained to regard each social occasion
as a ‘Therapeutic Encounter’.
Social Workers make you feel like rushing outside and sticking
pins in your eyeballs just for the hell of it.
This Social Worker asked us to define the meaning of INTEGRITY.
So I did - in the only way I knew how to fill in the hour
and a half we were given to define it in...
That shut him up.
March 28th
The advantage of having a really bad back is the type of
pain killer one gets prescribed. None of your ‘over
the counter’ boring old Panadol for me.
I get the sort of stuff that one can reliably use as an excuse
for being a bit vacant.
Example...
Today I ran into someone who had clearly done one of my workshops.
They knew who I was and rushed up to say hello.
The conversation went something like this...
THEM: Hey what are you doing here?
ME: Um, I have no idea (Actually what I
meant to say was I have no idea why you would ask me that)
THEM: So, what are you doing with yourself?
ME: Still no idea (Meaning I have no idea
who you are)
THEM: Are you OK? You look like you are
in some sort of pain?
ME: Ermph (At this point I really am having
an entire conversation with this person inside my head and
I have to say I am being quite the witty conversationalist)
THEM: Right, OK, well, it was good to see
you...
Later at home, I take time to review and reflect upon the
encounter and once again I feel like sticking pins in my eyes.
I think I have the little known PSWLS.
*Post Social Work Lecturer Stress.
March
29th
I found the elderly, senile Grommart sunbathing by herself
at the back opf the house. It was nice and peaceful so I crouched
down beside her.
“Hi Grommy, what are you up to?” I enquired.
“Just wondering” she said.
“ Wondering what Grommart?”
“Actually,” she said, “I was wondering what
I am doing here”.
“I take it you don’t mean that in the existential
meaning of the word Grommy?”
She looked at me blankly. “No” she said, and continued
speaking very slowly so that I could understand,
“I mean what am I doing here exactly?”
On to April...
BACK TO FEBRUARY
