"Gudrid the Cattle Farmer..."

After watching 8 episodes of the 'Vikings' series from the History channel, some how or other I have this faint feeling I may just have a wee bit of Viking blood running through these here veins of mine.... If yelling and roaring like a banshee and adoring dressing up as a bear or a wolf is any indication..? Perhaps? But wait... when one puts her name into a "What is your Viking name" generator on the interweb and comes up with "Gudrid the Cattle Farmer"? please.... That wouldn't even scare a rabbit in a tiger's costume....  but my sissa's name, "Arnora the Skull-Cleaver"? Now that's impressive indeed.... the hairs are standing up on my arms.... a name that nightmares are made of... Sissa, you are unbelievable! A long, long, long time ago, when the concept of being a qualified early childhood teacher was but a speck in the ginormity of this grand universe, I was gifted the name of "Maaori Viking" by a Luxemburgian Lumberjack... & if i recall correctly, this was due to the act of stirring up a great fire, with a great length of driftwood, in a great fire pit, ontop of a great hill in Paakaraka, with locks plaited to either side of my head....(I miss that land)... WHAT IS YOUR VIKING NAME? I dare you to investigate.....

Now to the 101 deeds in 1001 days? any progress? why yes I do believe soooo.....

But NO: 14 - Keep the worm farm alive... I dearly do doubt it at this point in time. Poor wee beggars. There is a possibility that I have overfed them, but I will deliver my worm farm to that of the kindergartens worm farm and will endeavour to reinstate it somewhere else down the line.... now if it were cattle, the inner Viking, Gudrid, would have it all under control!

NO: 4 - Conjure up a Taihape Ukulele Orchestra. Done and dusted! Grand sheila's meeting once a week, who are daring to open up their musicalness to play as a group of 9 - a roopu.... and many more turn up due to word-of-mouth! I may just have to put a cap on the numbers as its beautifully bewildering, but more to come on that front I promise... although lets just say, I aint never heard such a blessed ukulele rendition of Nancy Sinatra's "These boots were made for walking" in my whole life as a redheaded wahine.... shivers up the spine people, shivers up the spine....

The West Cork Ukulele Orchestra in the middle of Winter - Most delightful time of the year!

NO: 90 - Master Backgammon .... Indeed! After upcycling a very old board that was left behind in an op-shop, I am hooked (Line and sinker).. and able to kick some right Royal booty! I do wonder if the Queen plays? hmmmm.........

& NO: 39 - Plant "No Dig" gardens.... With piles of straw, poo and saturated newspaper, I am now on to my 2nd "No Dig" garden - with the first being full of chard and lettuce, and a blueberry tree.. A blueberry tree I hear you say? Why yes indeed.. Blueberries grow on trees.... I'm really not too sure if I have ever thought of how blueberries grow but if I did I would guess on a vine or maybe not  because they are a little like currants and cranberries yes? and don't they grow on bushes? But wherever any berries of any sort grow, I must say I do enjoy eating them. Visit the Greenhaus garden (click) on the outskirts of Taihape - blessed land full of all types of trees, vege seedlings, rabbits, chooks.. & classically, you name it & I bet Vanessa and Toby will have it....

And on a chilly note of winter.. I do believe it is gladly around the corner, and I am glad it is.. A break from the blinding sun and a time to put your hermit shoes on... and a time when you gladly wrap up in the natural fibres of wool - Glad, glad, glad! If not, your mad.... Now, "are you ready boots? Start walking......."

Maaori words of the week: 

Takurua hūpē nui

- winter, when your nose runs.. 

(hūpē = snot...)