I was riding an elephant in Malaysia when it occurred to me that I hadn't filed (or even written) my first June column, and it was too late to do anything about it. I had no choice but to carry on enjoying my holiday.
Since the ash cloud kicked days too late to prolong the break, I'm back again. And while I've been away, the bees have carried on making themselves at home.
I was pleased to see they are still stashing away pollen at every opportunity.
However, I'm still trying to work out what pollen they are gathering. You would think that with thousands of bees now on the property, I would be able to see where they are working. But 3m from the hives you wouldn't know there were any bees there. They scatter far and wide as they leave the landing board. I have seen two or three on the French lavender, but that's all.
Except for the other night, when my husband was bringing in firewood. In the back porch, chilling down, was a wee lost bee. As he opened the back door it flew into the hall and made directly for my bee suit, where it snuggled into the hood. It must have been comforted by the sweet scent of wax and honey on my gloves, poor wee mite. (I must remember to get it out before I put the suit on again.)
The sheep, however, are far from invisible. Having cleaned up most of the grass, a bunch of them now trek daily down to the house, where they wait to ambush me in the morning gloom when I go to collect the paper. A chorus of "baa, baa" follows me until I dish out the daily hay ration.
Once again, they appear to be ignoring the fences and roaming freely around the property. And, as always at this time of the year, because it's dark as I go to work and dark before I get home, I can't work out what's happening until the weekend.
I suspect some gates have been left open by sightseers, and my temporary fence repairs (stuffing cut gorse into the gaps where the bank slipped away) might have stopped being effective.
Then there's the hens. They're roosting in the macrocarpas, attacking the vege patch and not laying anything. But they still need to be fed, so each morning they get a bucket of household scraps topped up with grain or pellets. Really at this time of year I should be eating them, not feeding them. They're just lucky I'm a soft touch.