... on changes.

It's been an up-and-down week for me. I've moved house - mostly. It's funny - the new house seems completely full and yet I know there's still an awful lot of things left in my little shed out the back of my Ma's house. Packing up a place that I've lived in for ages (and loved) has been a bit of a bummer. I haven't enjoyed the process at all (although I have found a few things I thought I'd lost!) but the sadness has been tempered by the notion of the beautiful new house I've moved into. C and I are discovering the lovely times of day here - somehow the main room captures the best parts of the whole day - it's filled with beautiful light in the mornings and in the evenings. I know that as soon as we've lived in it for a little while longer, it'll start to feel like 'home'.

But there's been more sadness. Sometimes having chooks can really wrench at my heart, for they become pets as well as livestock. I don't know who it was that said "If you have livestock, you're going to have deadstock." but that's what's been happening. Four chooks have died from various ailments in the past few weeks, with the most recent departure our beloved and handsome Pekin rooster, Boyd, who had some kind of fit and just... expired. He was a lovely little feathery man. It's such a shame. My Ma has resolved never to get attached to chickens ever again, a resolution I know she will uphold until the next time the produce shop has silver-laced Wyandottes for sale.

Humpfh!