rubbish

This is a rubbish rubbish day. All the chickens got killed by a weasel (or possibly pine martin). It is so sad and wasteful, clearing up. Exhausted.

The picture is of the millstream, we cleared it last Saturday; Ross strimming, me clearing, Mattie removing hemlock, Mum and Dad Nell-sitting. Good team. It's running so much better and it was the last of Mattie's big jobs to earn the money for his roller-blades. He's done really well; very proud.