Most days I think the rainy season is pretty great. Thanks to the rainy season I don't have to water my plants, everything is green and beautiful, we never have water shortages or restrictions, and unlike winter rain, wet season rain is warm and doesn't even bother me if I get wet.
Some days, like today, the rainy season bugs the hell out of me. It's rainy, then steamy then cloudy then sunny then rainy. I bake then boil then bake then slosh around drenched in a sudden downpour. You wait for a sunny patch to go out only to have the heavens open just as you step outside.
Most days I love that I live in a place where the neighbours look out for each other and stop for a chat and a comment on the weather and the crop.
Some days, like today, I am completely jack of all my neighbours. A one hour job took more than three as I had a long conversation about ducklings with Mr N, a frustrating conversation about rice varieties peppered with random English but no self-introduction with someone who farms next door to us, and another talk about weeds and how fast they grow and which ones you can eat with Mrs N. I need a 'do not disturb' sign on my ninja-granny gardening hat.
Most days I love gardening, I love watching things grow and tending to them and eating what I grow and it's all so green and beautiful and calming.
Some days, like today, the weeds get to me, the snails get to me, the caterpillars and aphids get to me, the way the weeds grow twice as fast as the plants get to me, the way nature is always just one step away from reclaiming the whole garden as a massive jungle definitely gets to me and I am over eating snow peas. I don't even want to look at another snow pea and I have no idea why I planted 20 of the bloody things!
Most days I love having animals in our life. I love the eggs and the weed eating capabilities of course but I just love having them around. They are cute and inquisitive and friendly and just fun to hang out with.
Some days, like today, the chickens escape and poop on Meg's sneakers. There are three pairs of work boots, four pairs of gumboots and three pairs of easily washed fake crocs in the genkan- and that's just K's and my shoes. So why do the bloody chickens choose Meg's pink sneakers to poop on??? Meg who acts like she is in a fatal death throw just driving past a dairy. Who squeals if a caterpillar poops on her??
And the chooks who have spent the last month happily free ranging in the garden with me without even being curious as to what's beyond our borders have a sudden and all consuming obsession with the neighbours apple orchard. The neighbour's post spray apple orchard. Equal parts worried they will annoy the neighbours and eat a literal poison apple.
And the ducklings who were so good about bedtime suddenly hit the teenage years and decide they are going to party all night. Bloody crazy, stupid, naughty, insomniac ducklings. Two freaking hours tramping around in the dark, in the rain, in the knee deep water and mud trying to convince increasingly excited ducklings that it is way past bedtime is not my idea of a great way to spend the evening. Gave up in disgust and came home and called K. You'll have to try it on the way home from work. I'm done. The girls are tired. It's past bedtime and at the moment I'm passed caring. Bon Appetit little fox. Of course when K did his drive by an hour later they were all tucked up in their crate asleep and all he had to do was waltz up and close the door. All of a two minute job. Bloody ducklings! Of course I was instantly relieved that they were safe from foxes now, too. And then that annoyed me.
Just writing it down makes me feel much less irritated already! These someday posts are great. Here's hoping tomorrow is a most days day and not a someday one!