Mam loves the sound of the rain on a tin roof and I always think of her when I hear it on our own. This follows a trigger reaction from the Machinist, too, as he says "It's your weather, Babe". I find it so peaceful and calming - almost comforting. It makes me sleep like a bairn. The Machinist, on the other hand, gets awfully nervous when there is heavy rain or blustering winds. He seems to think that something, somewhere might break or fly off or come loose or leak. He's the practical one and I'm the dreamer. He's often right, though, as whoever thought life in the country was slow paced and simple, has another think coming... It's hard work and constant repairs and maintenance and the familiar relationship one forges with grease traps and septic tanks is laughable.
The puppies are making a grand mess of the garden. They are automatic mulching machines. Where does all the poo come from? There's more that comes out than goes in. Surely? We've added wire and mesh to fences and gates, to prevent naughty, cheeky puppies from escaping into the vegetable garden and digging up the leaf mulch-covered beds. I've been working outdoors for the past week, and a routine has been set; pick up droppings with extra long set of tongs. Put in plastic lined bucket. Rake designated area. Pull large weeds and toss in wheelbarrow. Unable to leave smaller weeds, pull them, too. Take ages. Wheel away barrow and dump (recycle) in paddock next door. Repeat the process.
Emma and I had a productive day last week, cleaning around the septic tanks and grease trap. In the process, we cut and carted away a tree, which would have undoubtedly spread its roots and cracked the cement water tank. The Machinist came home and seemed somewhat forlorn at the size of the rubbish pile. It was bittersweet for him; he was glad and grateful we had cleaned up, but sighed at the prospect of yet another job for his list.
After a week in the garden, I've taken to the indoors and have been practicing my breadmaking skills. I no longer measure things out, except the bread flour. It's a pinch (or three) of yeast, a sprinkle of salt, a pinch of sugar, a splash of oil, a couple of finger-fulls of ground flaxseed and water to mix. I've been noting things like weather conditions, humidity, temperature, time, oven temp and length of baking. It's chemistry!
Paperwork always invades the day, however. I have to stay on top of it, as it can become so overwhelming. If all systems in the home are running ok, I am at peace. Chaos is simply blasphemous in my books.