Oscillating on the Coast!

Yes---we do that sort of ting---down here. Whaaaaat, you say. I can just imagine the machinations re that statement. But---it all comes down to the stones---not stoners, although there would be a fair number of them here, too. The oscillating refers to the latest addition to my tumbling. On no---here he goes again, you think? Go back to previous posts and look at the beautiful stones I tumbled in the old machine. Each batch takes a month!

OK---to increase the efficiency of the process, I indulged in a flash new machine from Trumpland! I was hoping it would come without all the bullshit attached to the latter and have a bit more re longevity and actually do what it says it would. Sadly, it did not live up to the promise; for a start it was not adaptable, nor did it come as described. It made claims that were just not true, like having the wrong connections and false plug ins. Trumpland does not manufacture stone tumbling stuff that can just be switched on---oh no---it will need adaptation to make it work, then it can shorten the process tenfold! Sound familiar? Hell---it could even build a wall and make the neighbours pay for it. I'm getting behind myself!

The problem was the plug, which meant that the energy source was---- a 'disconnect'! Trumpland plugs just don't work in NZ! NO---it is not our not being on board here---hell---no of the 'universal' adaptors worked either. It seems that I will have to arrange a rewiring of the plug, which a clever electrician has been employed to do, then he gets deported back to Mexico. Must use him first though!

So---I am quite upbeat about the new 'device.' I can't wait to start 'tumbling' again on the Coast. Events elsewhere will  not change the result. I will have smooth stones, beautiful baubles, I will be 'connected!'

Confessions of 'Super Hen,' part 5.

HE went away for a day and a bit. HE left us to the mercy of 'things that go bang in the night.' HE did leave food and water and I heard HIM making plans with the man over the fence. I also heard the man behind us saying that--'the pot always awaited,' if the girls escape!' NOT funny funny old man!

BUT----I rallied the girls--I made sure they behaved and it was only me who set out to explore and guard our realm. Twice I 'surged in a mass of fluttery  feathers, combined with maniacal clucking and flashing talons towards the 'ginga' cat, that assumes territorial right. No way fellow creature---this is OURS! The said cat quickly retreated under the threat of a mad group of clucky soldiers attacking at will.

I thought that being in HIS good books might go down well, siI had a serious chat with the errant sister who insists on laying soft eggs and placing them in 'hard to find places.' She responded magnificently and laid her first real egg, complete in its hardness, in the correct place---'the box!'

We had one issue. HE had purchased a 'top of the line,;' chookatarium,' a device that allows a constant flow of food, but protected by the an arrangement that stops sparrows and other 'vultures,' from stealing our food. The girls and---yes---me---have not quite gotten the knack of the device---yet. Come on----give us time. Our brains are somewhat diminished---well their anyway. I don;t want to be too 'out there,' re my hen cleverness! Maybe you can guess what happened!

Yes, the clothes peg holding the flap open, broke whilst HE was away. Our source of food was denied!  Luckily HE had left extra Hen food in our pen and there was also plenty of green stuff with loads of clean water. We know HE did not mean it to be so, so we held no grievance against HIM. Indeed, we excelled re our 'production targets and when HE returned, there were four beautiful eggs,' in the box. HE was elated and his recovery from the realisation that his flash chookatarium,' had partially failed, was thrust aside as he heaped praise on our efforts.

All is well in our neck of the Coast. Now, we feel like a party. Mmmm---who shall we invite!