Knitting, flowers, and some heavy tunes

We've sweltered through a hideous couple of weeks and then a couple of days ago, blessedly, it started to rain. Right now there's a break in the weather and I should really be out there pulling the spent corn.  I should be planting leek and onion seedlings.

I should be weeding while the ground is soft.  I should be mucking out the chook house, and definitely should be properly storing the spring bulbs I pulled out months ago and which are still sitting in buckets in the wood shed.  I should be getting rid of the apples infected with coddling moth (sigh).

I should be vacuuming.  I should be peeling (uninfected, supermarket bought) apples for stewing.  I should be folding washing, putting other washing away, and putting yet more washing in the machine.

I have instead, for reasons I cannot explain, cast on another knitting project.  And ordered yarn for another.  And started a crochet project.  Although the crochet project is just adding a border to an existing blanket so it hardly counts.  Right?

What I have also been doing, is taking photos of flowers.  If you're anti-flower - as I once was, can you believe it - click away now!

I've been appreciating my chooks.  They don't have twee old lady names, or hilarious ironic bogan names.  I can't even really tell them apart.  They're just my chooks.  That said, I've been surprised by how much I love them.  I love their little purring sounds of happiness when they see me coming to let them out in the morning.  I love watching them run towards me when they know I have treats for them.  And of course I love the eggs they so unfailingly provide.

I love their presence in the garden, usually to be found bum-up hunting for grubs.

I don't especially like it when they hang about on the doorstep and poop, or when they try to come inside and make the baby scream in alarm.  But I find them a very rewarding animal to keep and I'd love to have more.  But, considering that we give away the majority of their eggs, that's probably unlikely unless we decide to turn commercial.  Hmmm...

Is it weird that I like the mottled spotty look of the half-dead hydrangea flower better than when it's at its peak?

I haven't staked the dahlias, even though I should.  I like looking at them falling all over the place, for some reason.  It's messy and imperfect, and I should have coiled that hose before taking the photo.  Should have got B to mow the lawn.

As mentioned earlier, I've been pulling out corn and J has been enjoying the spoils.  Most of the time the cobs don't even make it inside before being demolished, but occasionally I can smuggle one in for dinner.

In case there was any remaining doubt, I got incontrovertible proof the other day that we have a little empath on our hands.  Walking past the lemon tree, J commented that a lemon had fallen from the tree.  "Poor little thing," she said.  OH boy.  I quickly told her than the lemon was happy to fall from the tree, it wanted to fall from the tree.  But my heart ached a little bit for the girl whose heart aches for everyone and everything around her.  How will we toughen her up I wonder?

A is now 16 months.  Sixteen months and cannot stand.  Finally we have had confirmation (and may I just say here, I kneeew it) that no, something is not right.

We have been looking at the way she stands from the very first time she put her feet down, and discussed the fact that it doesn't look right.  And the other day the doctor confirmed within moments of examining her that it's not right at all.

This all sounds a bit dramatic and gloomy but I feel quite matter of fact about it.  I think we have known for a while that something is not as it should be, so having confirmation from the doctor is more a relief than a shock.  I am pretty annoyed that it hasn't been picked up before now considering that I have faithfully taken her to every child nurse check up.  I've been lectured by various nurses both here and in Australia about this and that, but when there was a real problem no one noticed.  That part of it is very upsetting.

But when it comes to the actual problem, whatever it is, I don't feel worried.  Not yet, I guess.  If it turns out that there is some terrible deformity, or she has to have major surgery, or she may never walk, then yes I will almost certainly be very bloody upset.  But for now my main feeling is impatience.  Let's get this show on the road.

Not much else to add at this juncture but we are booked to see a specialist and I for one am relieved to think that finally we will get some answers and, more importantly, a plan.  Just a few (long) weeks until her appointment.

I can't wait to get started on helping my poor frustrated girl get on her feet.  Literally.