I've been in a flap

Our ginger cat has been unwell. We aren't sure, and neither is the vet what ails her, but she's been off her food (this never happens, hence she is lovingly known as the biscuit barrel). She behaved impeccably at the vets, who gave her some medication for pancreatitis, as she seemed rather sore in that area. I have been really concerned, as it really pains me to see an animal unwell. To add insult to injury, she was bitten last night by a feral cat who occasionally breaches the cat flap and steals food. All in all a "sorry for herself" few days.

In the middle of trying to tempt her to eat I have been baking - I think I got carried away with the fresh yeast. The pumpkin and sunflower loaves are 4 inches high in old money!

I have a chicken casserole in the slow cooker and as I was just about to serve it up, Fernando our shy pheasant appeared. He has a 6th sense concerning cameras, and I have yet to take a shot of him which isn't blurred. This one was on 48 times zoom, and he was in a hurry to get home for his tea. But if you can use a bit of imagination, you will see what a fine fellow he is.

And his name, well, do you remember the first line of the Abba song... Do you hear the guns Fernando?.....

The Lamington that wasn't a cake, and a Dragon that was.

Today is brought to you by the letter "C", for cake.

Except not quite.

Recently, a friend's son was travelling up north with his friend and they came across a dead sheep stuck in mud with a half delivered lamb. Being the tender hearted types, they wanted to help, but didn't know how.

My friend's son called his mum, who is a qualified veterinary nurse. She picked up the call when she was at home with a visitor. Afternoon tea was interrupted by giving her son a crash course in lamb delivery, including gruesome details of where to find the anus/womb etc. The boys succeeded in delivering a healthy female lamb. Sadly the mother sheep was long gone. Next step. What to do with an orphaned lamb and no way of knowing who it belonged to? Take it home to mum of course.

My resourceful friend cleaned it up, found it some appropriate food and got it wrapped up and warm. The family is now feeding it every three hours and it is sleeping happily inside an old tyre stuffed with blankets.

Lambshanks has been dubbed Lamington (she's a pure white little thing covered in coconut flakey wool). I met her this morning and she is as tame as cat and very sociable. My friend will raise it and hopes it will be then adopted out to a local farmer.

Now, the dragon.

Cakes are given the strangest names. Today is my husband's birthday, so I offered to take a cake to work tomorrow. I borrowed a recipe called "Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon", so named because it is a cake made with very thin alternating layers of orange and chocolate sponge which makes it look like a tiger. Unfortunately I don't have the right size or shape cake tin to make it like the recipe, so instead made it in an oblong tin, like a marble cake. In fact looking at it, I should probably rename it an earthquake cake due to the cracks!

And finally, the real Crouching Tiger. Ruppin The Terrified Tabby has taken his anxiety to another level with the arrival of the Famous Five chickens from next door. This is him yesterday watching them from a safe distance before he rushed back inside to hide behind the kitchen curtains. A case of the timid Crouching Hidden Tiger.

Love at first bleat

There are compensations for getting out early in the morning and digging up weeds on the driveway. About five minutes into my dig I heard a high pitched bleat from my neighbour's front paddock. There were two newly born, wobbly legged lambs staggering around in the frost and moving instinctively towards mum and sunshine. One picked sunshine under the tree, the other picked mum.

and a few hours later

The mild and torrential weather of late appears to have forced spring into an early arrival if our cherry and plum trees are to go by.

And our neighbours chickens only spent a few seconds on our frosty lawn before heading back to the sunshine of the paddock.

Shaking a tail feather

I do far too much sitting around - whether at work in an office, reading, sewing or typing at the computer. Today, I had to get the muscles moving so went for a perambulation in the 'hood. It is amazing how many neighbours I met, either running or taking dogs for walks.

Just a few photos from the stroll and Mademoiselle Plume when I got home. She is rather a pretty creature. I do enjoy her gentle murmuring to the other hens. Not so much Reg the Rooster who has finally found his crowing register and practices at all opportunities. He started off with the sound of an old Austin 7 engine being cranked with a handle. This was alarming and very funny at the same time. I did wonder if I needed to buy him some cough drops. Now he is in fine fettle and proudly screeches to his girls. This has had an alarming effect on the cats who occasionally have been dozing on the verandah when he has strolled right underneath them and let rip.

The rain it raineth every day, but dogs don't care

We have had an extended period of rain across the Lower North Island which is causing a few issues with flooding. In theory at least, we should have weather cold enough to have snow, but we don't, so we live like walking sponges.

Our road is rather worse for wear. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves. The dog belongs to our neighbour and friend. He is a livestock dog, but today he was "dressing up" as a water dog. A happier creature you could not find!

Secret Sylko hoarder

One of my earliest memories is of my mum's sewing table (built by dad) and playing on the floor of her sewing room. When I got dextrous enough, I was allowed to "sort" her thread drawer. She was a seamstress by profession and always had dozens of alterations on the go for various neighbours and friends. I absolutely loved the lazy afternoons of childhood, listening to the musical whirr of mum's Pfaff sewing machine, and "Women's Hour" on the radio followed by "Listen with mother".

Today I have been sewing half a dozen draught excluders for our very draughty home. It has only taken me 3 years! Other projects have got in the way. I got distracted part of the way through the project when my sewing machine spool ran out of thread. I ended up sorting out my sewing threads (two drawers of them!)

I love the names given to the colours, which seem richer and bolder than the synthetic threads of today. You can almost visualise the trendy two piece or daring miniskirt to go with the name.

I am always hunting for a colour I don't have, so fabric fairs have a frisson of "the chase" as a result. As they seldom cost more than a couple of dollars each, I don't feel too guilty collecting!