So there I was, quietly face booking in the kitchen about our upcoming weekend with Neil Young in the Hunter valley, when....wait a minute! Face booking? In the kitchen? Yes, you read right people, the freedom farm now has wi fi!!!! After 3 long years of sitting first in the shed ( as this was the only place close enough to the new Internet satellite) and then at the 'bar' to do all our internetting, we now have the fabulous freedom to google in the bathroom! To download on the balcony! To blog ANYWHERE!!!
I'm agog with possibilities.
It's exciting and somewhat terrifying...what will be next? Mobile phone reception? The horror!!!! It's kind of nice living in the metaphorical dark ages sometimes...
Anyway, where was I? Oh that's right, Neil Young. So I was standing in the kitchen posting a photo of our ticket to see the man and his Crazy Horse this weekend, and I was standing really still waiting for my pic to upload, ( let me just say I am awesome at standing/sitting/lying really still after doing it 12 hours a day at Vipassana - booya!) when a tiny grey fluff ball scampered out from behind the oven. Nose twitching, it searched around for any leftover smears of dinner and seemed oblivious to me. Me, still as a statue. A statue of a ninja. My ninja eyes followed the rodent and my ninja brain devised a cunning plan.
I'm agog with possibilities.
It's exciting and somewhat terrifying...what will be next? Mobile phone reception? The horror!!!! It's kind of nice living in the metaphorical dark ages sometimes...
Anyway, where was I? Oh that's right, Neil Young. So I was standing in the kitchen posting a photo of our ticket to see the man and his Crazy Horse this weekend, and I was standing really still waiting for my pic to upload, ( let me just say I am awesome at standing/sitting/lying really still after doing it 12 hours a day at Vipassana - booya!) when a tiny grey fluff ball scampered out from behind the oven. Nose twitching, it searched around for any leftover smears of dinner and seemed oblivious to me. Me, still as a statue. A statue of a ninja. My ninja eyes followed the rodent and my ninja brain devised a cunning plan.
A colander. I would catch this mousy critter with nothing but my swift reflexes, patience and a colander.
And that my friends, is exactly what happened.
And that my friends, is exactly what happened.
Of course my gleeful pride, my 'I am Bear Grylls in a woman's body - humanely and skilfully catching small creatures with nothing but my skill and a handy kitchen utensil' gloating, awoke Flex and there was no stopping him from joining the hunt.
He chose a sistema Tupperware container as his weapon of choice and with bucketloads of zen oozing from every pore he stood and waited. And waited. And waited for little mousy's friends to come out and play. He even set up the iPad to record the moment. He was so still and quiet I swear I could hear tumbleweed rolling in Arizona. And sure enough, out poked a twitching nose to sniff at the hunk of French sourdough fruit loaf he had set out as bait, and wham! Down came the Tupperware!
He chose a sistema Tupperware container as his weapon of choice and with bucketloads of zen oozing from every pore he stood and waited. And waited. And waited for little mousy's friends to come out and play. He even set up the iPad to record the moment. He was so still and quiet I swear I could hear tumbleweed rolling in Arizona. And sure enough, out poked a twitching nose to sniff at the hunk of French sourdough fruit loaf he had set out as bait, and wham! Down came the Tupperware!
Big Gav then joined in the discussion on how to get the mice from under their respective receptacles and into their overnight lodgings and transportation enclosure. It was all very thrilling for 10.45 pm on a Wednesday nightly me tell you.
So now they are off with Gav for a ride in a convertible, to be released somewhere lovely and far FAR away from our kitchen.
Much better and more fun than disposing of squished fluff balls in a mousetrap or finding ones dying on the front deck riddled with poison.
And they got to spend their last night with us in a soup pot snacking on French sourdough fruitloaf.
So now they are off with Gav for a ride in a convertible, to be released somewhere lovely and far FAR away from our kitchen.
Much better and more fun than disposing of squished fluff balls in a mousetrap or finding ones dying on the front deck riddled with poison.
And they got to spend their last night with us in a soup pot snacking on French sourdough fruitloaf.
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