Sometimes our place is a madhouse.
This weekend we had grandson D over. D has a new baby brother, and a visit to the farm gave his mum a chance for a night off and a birthday dinner.
D loves the farm and enjoys patting the various animals. He particularly likes the quail, who were hand-raised and seem to put up with this more than most animals.
D is now 3 years old, and likes to run off at high speed. Fortunately we had wwoofers Julia and Fiona there, who were usually a step ahead of him. We also had my son Owen and his mate Gryff there to take turns with D duty.
D is good fun, and he has good language skills so we can teach him a lot. This time, he came with a cold, which got worse over the weekend.
All three-year-olds go through the “glazed donut” phase, where the contents of their nasal passages end up evenly distributed over their skin and clothes. So we had an affectionate but rather sticky little fellow.
On the Friday night, Allison cooked paella (a Spanish seafood and rice dish) at the Goulburn Club, who were having a Blues weekend. Looked and tasted great.
We caught up with the Goulburn medieval club crew at the Old Goulburn Brewery (we’re having an event there next month, and then they all came over to dinner.
At the last minute, Allison remembered that I’d promised to man the bar at the Goulburn Club, so I had to race in there. Actually a fairly easy night with some great music.
On Sunday, we took D back to Sydney, which took most of the day. When we left, the place looked like a bombsite, but by the time we had come back the magic wwoofer fairies had restored it all to some semblance of sanity.
And so for another week.