Sprocket (or Sprocko as the Kiwi calls him now) has had tummy ache all week which turned into a nasty case of Frothy Bloat. Not a pretty sight. I was advised by Dr Google that ground ginger and olive oil would help the problem and not having any ground ginger I raced down to see if Mrs Farmer 3 had any. She did and said “Are you making a curry?” I thought Lamb Korma might be on the menu if the remedy didn’t work! I made up the concoction and managed to get some of it down Sprocket’s neck and half an hour later he seemed a little recovered.

Meanwhile the weather has turned and although nice and sunny during the day, the night time temperatures have plummeted down to near zero.  We decided it was too cold for “Sprocko” outside and there was only one thing for it but to bring him in to sleep in our tented annexe at night in a box with a straw bed which he promptly tipped over and escaped. In the end he settled down on our doormat and I made him up a hottie from an empty orange juice bottle wrapped in one of the dogs towels.  The Kiwi was very good about the annexe beginning to resemble a farmyard until he had to get up for a night time tinkle.  I was awoken by a loud expletive which the Kiwi yelled out as he stepped in a large pool of lamb tinkle.  I muttered something about wellies and went back to sleep.

Of an evening I sometimes join the Kiwi out on his rounds checking the sheep. He often has to help a ewe give birth or rescue lambs who’ve escaped onto the wrong side of the fence – he can sprint quite fast for someone his age! But last Monday we found a tiny lamb who had been abandoned by its mother. I gathered this small bundle of beyond cuteness up and laid her down in the footwell of the ute turning the heater on full blast as she was so cold. By the time we got her home I had already named her “Floella” after my favourite presenter on Playschool. Flo (for short) was so weak she could barely lift her head and did not have enough energy to suck on the bottle of warm milk we tried to give her. The Kiwi took prompt action and put a tube down her throat and got some warm milk straight into her and put her in a box with Sprocko’s improvised hottie. A bit later we gave Flo another tube of milk and slowly she showed some signs of life and by the time we all went to bed she was bleating and could stand up.

The next morning Flo was starving hungry and had enough strength to suck from the bottle. Margot and Daphne were fascinated and Flo loved the attention. Flo thought Margot was her Mum and Margot thought she’d had a puppy – she was so gentle with her. Later the sun came out and I introduced Flo to Sprocket leaving them to play in the sun. Although a bit wobbly on her pins Flo seemed to have recovered and was drinking her milk up with great enthusiasm. The next day was a different story. Flo was lethargic and couldn’t stand for long and by the evening couldn’t drink from her bottle. The Kiwi tubed her twice more during the night but sadly by morning she had gone to the big sheep paddock in the sky. Not a great start to my birthday! I guess sometimes you just can’t interfere with mother nature. The Kiwi later found what he thought was Flo’s mother with two lambs who were the same age and looked just like Flo. We think that Flo was a third who got left behind. Her short life was filled with luxury and attention and we’ve now found out what a great mum Margot could be.

Well yes, it was my birthday this week too. The Kiwi was given the day off and we took the dogs to see the sea. We drove an hour and a half to Lancelin where we found a very nice restaurant overlooking the sea and ate large quantities of seafood washed down with lashings of SavBlanc. To walk off our indulgence there was a vast expanse of sand dunes and standing in the middle of them gave you some idea of what it must be like to be in the Sahara Desert with nothing in view except white sand. Margot and Daphne went berserk! They ran up and down the really quite high and steep dunes until they just couldn’t do it anymore. We were not alone. There were several tourists who’d hired sandboards and were tobogganing at great speed down the dunes – some of them were old enough to know better but I felt rather jealous – I might be back for a go myself sometime soon!

Although we’re a half hour drive from our nearest town life seems to be eventful. The Kiwi got two vehicles stuck in the mud today. Lots of expletives and a long walk home….

We’re getting to know Mr and Mrs Farmer 3 and their 2 boys quite well now and have enjoyed some most convivial evenings sharing funny stories and a fair bit of vino. Tonight we joined themw round the bonfire and I attempted my first damper (a sort of cakey bread) cooked in a camp oven on coles from the fire. Farmer Boy 1 & 2 kept us entertained with statements such as “how did you fit your caravan in the aeroplane?” and “When are you going home?”

A last snippet of information I would like to impart to you is that I’ve got the Kiwi really embracing the Australian life and is now as addicted to Neighbours as me!