Spring is all about hard work - gardeners gardening, bees making honey, churches running fairs, chickens laying eggs ... well, apart from three shirkers in my flock.
A dozen hens, one rooster and nine eggs a day mean someone's not pulling their weight.
I have been spying on them hoping to catch the unproductive ones avoiding the task that is the very reason for their existence.
The rooster is certainly performing his tasks with unbelievable vigour and frequency.
I clipped the wing of one of my regular escapees and threw her back into the yard.
She flew with all the grace of a size 14 frozen Tegel, but it didn't stop him instantly leaping on her and performing an act that would have breached all sorts of laws in the human world.
And then he swaggered off - not even an "I love you."
The boot camp victims are working hard too - I saw them down at Lake Hayes the other evening and was very worried to see quite a fierce dog following behind them.
It seemed to be there to spot any stragglers or runaways and I didn't like to imagine those big teeth clamping on to the calf of a would-be ex-boot camp recruit.
Lake Hayes was throbbing with fun seekers and bargain hunters last Saturday at the Presbyterian fair, and so as not to be accused of any sort of religious bias, I must tell you that the Anglicans are about to hold their annual fundraiser on November 20.
If you have any once-loved but still loveable goods that you would like to send to a worthy home, call Michelle on 442-8391.
I love church fairs (certainly more than I love church) and find it quite impossible to go home without bags full of jam, plants, books and all sorts of treasures.
I have had a bit of a telling-off about the shallowness of my decision to switch religions just so I could look at boys (I actually swapped about 35 years ago, but I only mentioned it last week).
My shallowness has been going on longer than that. I remember at Arrowtown Primary School we had to sit inside listening to Rev Neilson talking at us about something or other called religious education while the lucky, happy Catholic kids got to frolic in the playground.
When Bernadette Goodger stuck her tongue out at us and waggled her fingers in her ears, I knew I wanted to be a Catholic so I could just play outside too.
Lots of congratulations are in order this week.
Jill Egerton won the champion golf prize and is wondering how to wear her cup so that everyone will know.
Much easier getting a medal - you can wear it with pride and look terrific in any outfit.
And huge, slightly belated congratulations to Max Guthrie on his heroic effort saving a runaway trolley bus in Dunedin!
I read about it in Prester John's world-famous column in the ODT.
It was 40 years ago when our local hero leapt aboard and stopped the trolley after the driver fell unconscious. Go Max!!!
And belated birthday greetings to Annie Stuart and Sue Wilson, both stalwarts of the Montessori world.
I went to see Sue at Queenstown Montessori to see the new extensions: fantastic and so nice to have Montessori in Queenstown as well as Arrowtown.
I am always so proud of all our Mogs and Mobs (Montessori old boys and girls) - the oldest are 20 now and doing so well.
We are so lucky having so many different early childhood options in the Wakatipu.
If you have got ankle biters, do yourself a favour and visit all the different kindergartens and preschools.
They all have different philosophies and setups and there will always be one that suits you and your child.
I'm hoping my 2-year-old nephew will go to one that teaches him how to flatter his whiskery old aunt.
He had been away on holiday and saw me for the first time again at my parents' place.
"Hello Granny" was how he greeted me.
Granny?????
Foolish child.
And that in the same week as lovely Rose at Arrowtown Montessori told me I looked like my Dad. (He is nearly 79 and a man. Thanks, Rose!)
I may invest in some very expensive face cream and royal jelly capsules.
Or I might find my own royal jelly.
A huge pine cone shaped thing appeared in one of our trees this week.
It was buzzing.
Mr Wasp (Eion Ryan) rang Mr Buzz, who used to have 3000 beehives throughout Southland, to help me sort out the problem.
The big thing was a wild bees' nest.
They are homeless bees who just hang out together making honey and living a happy, hippy life.
I was very sad to learn that all the wild bees are carrying the varroa mite and that only the domesticated ones who live in proper beehives can be treated.
Now I want my own beehives. Is there anyone out there who can help me house some bees?
Homeless bees - have you ever heard of anything sadder?
Unless it's Scott Stevens, the editor of the Lakes Weekly Bulletin, who wrote his whole editorial wondering why the Wakatipu doesn't have more world-class events and festivals.
Aargh, sweet and simple little Scotty Stevens - haven't you heard about the Festival of Colour?
It's coming to the Wakatipu as well.
Email me and I'll give you a bee in your ear about it.
Rebel With A Cause.
This is another one Jilly Jardine recommended, and while it's not marvellously well written, the story is terrific.
Ray was one of those unfortunate children who was born to parents who really didn't deserve the title.
They were plain awful.
How someone could grow up never knowing any parental love or attention, and still want to do so much good in the world is quite mystifying.
I know there are plenty of parents like that out there, only interested in themselves and their own wants, but there are few children of those parents who grow up to set up high-tech medical laboratories in some of the world's poorest countries and invent super-simple, brilliant technology to rescue people from blindness.
I love this sort of story and Ray Avery is definitely my sort of hero.
Read it and marvel.
Have a great weekend!
