Oscillating on the Coast!

Yes---we do that sort of ting---down here. Whaaaaat, you say. I can just imagine the machinations re that statement. But---it all comes down to the stones---not stoners, although there would be a fair number of them here, too. The oscillating refers to the latest addition to my tumbling. On no---here he goes again, you think? Go back to previous posts and look at the beautiful stones I tumbled in the old machine. Each batch takes a month!

OK---to increase the efficiency of the process, I indulged in a flash new machine from Trumpland! I was hoping it would come without all the bullshit attached to the latter and have a bit more re longevity and actually do what it says it would. Sadly, it did not live up to the promise; for a start it was not adaptable, nor did it come as described. It made claims that were just not true, like having the wrong connections and false plug ins. Trumpland does not manufacture stone tumbling stuff that can just be switched on---oh no---it will need adaptation to make it work, then it can shorten the process tenfold! Sound familiar? Hell---it could even build a wall and make the neighbours pay for it. I'm getting behind myself!

The problem was the plug, which meant that the energy source was---- a 'disconnect'! Trumpland plugs just don't work in NZ! NO---it is not our not being on board here---hell---no of the 'universal' adaptors worked either. It seems that I will have to arrange a rewiring of the plug, which a clever electrician has been employed to do, then he gets deported back to Mexico. Must use him first though!

So---I am quite upbeat about the new 'device.' I can't wait to start 'tumbling' again on the Coast. Events elsewhere will  not change the result. I will have smooth stones, beautiful baubles, I will be 'connected!'

Confessions of 'Super Hen,' part 5.

HE went away for a day and a bit. HE left us to the mercy of 'things that go bang in the night.' HE did leave food and water and I heard HIM making plans with the man over the fence. I also heard the man behind us saying that--'the pot always awaited,' if the girls escape!' NOT funny funny old man!

BUT----I rallied the girls--I made sure they behaved and it was only me who set out to explore and guard our realm. Twice I 'surged in a mass of fluttery  feathers, combined with maniacal clucking and flashing talons towards the 'ginga' cat, that assumes territorial right. No way fellow creature---this is OURS! The said cat quickly retreated under the threat of a mad group of clucky soldiers attacking at will.

I thought that being in HIS good books might go down well, siI had a serious chat with the errant sister who insists on laying soft eggs and placing them in 'hard to find places.' She responded magnificently and laid her first real egg, complete in its hardness, in the correct place---'the box!'

We had one issue. HE had purchased a 'top of the line,;' chookatarium,' a device that allows a constant flow of food, but protected by the an arrangement that stops sparrows and other 'vultures,' from stealing our food. The girls and---yes---me---have not quite gotten the knack of the device---yet. Come on----give us time. Our brains are somewhat diminished---well their anyway. I don;t want to be too 'out there,' re my hen cleverness! Maybe you can guess what happened!

Yes, the clothes peg holding the flap open, broke whilst HE was away. Our source of food was denied!  Luckily HE had left extra Hen food in our pen and there was also plenty of green stuff with loads of clean water. We know HE did not mean it to be so, so we held no grievance against HIM. Indeed, we excelled re our 'production targets and when HE returned, there were four beautiful eggs,' in the box. HE was elated and his recovery from the realisation that his flash chookatarium,' had partially failed, was thrust aside as he heaped praise on our efforts.

All is well in our neck of the Coast. Now, we feel like a party. Mmmm---who shall we invite!

This time it is Japan! What is going on with my blog?!

I have written from time to time that I get somewhat distorted hits on my blog. In the past, it has been from Israel. Today I see Japan has 'played the game.' with nearly 3000 hits in one day from that country. Of course, that does not mean that the hits actually come from Japan. One would think that I should be pleased at such numbers, but---do you really believe that a blog that gets up to 100 hits a day would suddenly take off in the manner described. Nope---I am a suspicious realist.

I have tried to report the matter to Google, but they do not respond. Maybe they are just too busy making money, rather than address my concerns about my minuscule blog! So, I am appealing to my readers, to see if any of you (or the ones on FB and Twitter) can explain what these numbers really mean.  I look forward to your 'explanations!
www.authorneilcoleman.com 

Kindle 'downloads in China?

I know that my blogs are read in China but I am unsure if they can download the two books I have on Kindle. To my Chinese readers------ please let me know if you can download  'Roskill' and 'Talk To Me.' Go to my website and click on Neil's Books and follow the link. Please share my site with your friends.
www.authorneilcoleman.com

Confessions of 'Super-Hen,' (Part 4)

Sometimes I really do get the last laugh re setting HIM up. Life has been very settled around our patch lately, with 3 and a half of us laying (The last girl to join the production line, is a bit hesitant) and for the most part, we stay in our enclosure. HE of course was rather busy, with his friend and that huge monster, hairy dog. OMG---it was ten times bigger than the little teaser HE calls Perdy! It did tend to keep the latter in a better frame of mind though.

OK----life can get boring if things are so settled, that 'predictability' is the name of the game. Oh no----HE needed a 'reminder! I called a 'High Council of the Feathered.' We made a plan---well that is, the girls agreed to my instructions. That's how it works in my neck of the garden. Here's how it played out.

As per usual, HE emerged at a 'way past decent hour,' which in HIS terminology is about 6.55. HE has taken to letting us roam at will around our enclosure, because HE believes that his hairy baby has frightened away all the Thames rats---yeah right! I saw one the other day that would have fed us for a week, had we caught it!  The 'plan' was that I was going to give HIM a little reminder that 'There is no fence that can keep Me in!' You know the rest of the song---well maybe not, because I being multi-talented, wrote it! Right, to cut a long story short---yeah I know---you hate that saying, I went 'wandering,'---on the other side of his garden---in the neighbours driveway---to be precise. Now---don't go worrying---I know  the cats and there are no 'Perdy-like' creatures in that area.----

HE espied me, strutting my stuff, while my sisters looked on, with much clucking and prancing. HE emerged in quite a state, calling for assistance and in a right panic! Oops---I sort of said that twice, but it was so funny, I guess a bit of chooky exaggeration is quite suitable. HE came running---no that's wrong----wobbling is more apt----and made a 'hen-line' for the back fence. That's when it turned into a circus. HE just could not quite straddle the fence and HE got sort of stuck, right where I hear it hurts or at least becomes---uncomfortable. Human males of a certain age, are not designed to straddle fences. HE called for help to catch me while HE remained 'ensconced ' in a most unseemly manner, uttering very bad words rhyming with 'cluck,' and becoming more and more agitated.

Help arrived, HE freed himself and between the two of them, they tried to convert me into being a sheep. They 'herded' me---crazy. I let them contain me near the fence and HE picked me up. With a little, but suitably dramatic flick of my wings, I alighted upon familiar territory and glanced back as HE once again mounted the fence. Yeah, I know---to much information. Peace returned and I returned to breakfast---a delicious combination of herbs, leftovers and chooky chow. I hope I have not rocked HIS boat a little too much. Time will tell. Come on---one has to keep HIM on his claws! As for getting the last laugh----

War---but---it's just not in me to fight! Confessions of Super Hen (Part 3)

 I was all 'beak,' yesterday. I'm not sure why, but I must have been in a strange mood. HE-- had been a bit disappointed re our laying efforts. Hey---we had a bad day---OK. Then---I overrated. I declared war and I must now confess to a very selfish act. Once, HE had locked us in for the night, I called a 'Council of War,' and ran through a few strategies, like:
     Pecking at HIS feet at every opportunity, especially when he wear jandals!
     Placing poops just where HE steps over the fence, meaning HE will take part of inside HIS house.
     Hiding our eggs in places HE find them.
     Braking the odd egg, that we place in the box---so HE can see them.
     Teasing that Perdy thing---make her bark and annoy HIM.

I think you get the picture, but things didn't quite work out that way. As with any action planned by a 'union,' one must have uniformity of action. The other girls just did not seem to have the commitment. They were more concerned about their claws and the shine on their feathers. It was me who enacted all the aspects of the 'plan,' while they simply strutted and clucked, talking nonsense. I bet they don't even register to vote. Typical!

I guess it's time to save face. HE will be back any moment, so I have a peace offering. One large 'super egg,' from guess who, is sitting strategically in the middle of the nesting box and the other is in the next box---not huge like my beautiful double yoker, but beautiful in its own way. If that does not please  HIM, then I'm going walk about. Trouble is HE has blocked all the holes! Anyway---'walk-a-bouts are for Aussies are they not?

Tomorrow, I am going to launch a 'charm offensive.' (To be continued)

PS:  There is another huge dog, living with us at the moment with a lovely lady from Nelson.  It was her who talked to me about my 'attitude.' Do not tell HIM!
   
   
     

Confession of 'Super Hen.' (Part 2)

Goodness me---much can happen in just 24 hours. Yesterday, I introduced you the 'skeleton's' of my (OK---our) existence, illuminating the bare facts as to how we arrived in this idyllic back yard. SHUUUUSH---do not tell HIM! I have managed to explore the 'greater area,' of the aforementioned yard and much to HIS displeasure, several yard beyond. If HE only knew just how far I have ventured, I am sure HE would suffer from 'dehentia!'

Take yesterday for example. HE arose soon after sunrise. You see, we have managed to make HIM feel guilty, if he does not attend to our needs first thing in the morning, before HE takes the Mutt names Perdy  for a walk. We set up this gentle background 'clacker,' somewhere between clucking and crowing. I guess it sounds like we are suffering in some way, because it elicits an immediate response, once he pokes HIS head out the back door of HIS simple dwelling. WE have yet to see inside that place, but believe me when I say---we are working on it!

I digress. When HE returned from HIS walk yesterday, two of us were not to be seen. We had absconded, but on hearing HIS noisy mutterings, we made ourselves magically appear in he extension to our generous enclosure. It was most important that HE did not discover the means re our escape. This is when we 'feed' HIS ego. Yes, we walk across to HIM, squat and let HIM pick us up, whereby HE returns us to the enclosure,, whilst going on in a boringly familiar manner about 'how the buggers escaped!'

Then HE sets about searching for beautiful eggs we have laid. The others of course place theirs in the egg laying area. I do  not. Mine---are placed in a nest, just by the garden shed. HE has found that area and takes them into the dwelling. I hear HIM 'crowing' about how wonderful I am---yes I produce double yokers. It's all a ploy to 'control' HIM, of course. It takes the focus from my escapades. HE seems less anxious about my absconding, thinking that HE knows the whereabouts of myself and the girls.

Unfortunately, there are traitors in the neighbourhood! Yes HIS Dutch neighbours turned me in! They noticed that I had found a means to escape, using the compost stinky bin to jump on and clacker through a hole in the fence. Freedom---we thought! Nope, those very same people, grabbed us! They can run very much faster than HIM, being younger and in possession of two very sprightly young boys! They kept returning us to the enclosure and they told HIM about our exploits. HE thanked them and immediately set about closing off our escape route. To rub in the 'salt,' HE even offered some of our hard won eggs. How very dare HIM---using us and our labours to suit HIS means. War had been declared!  (To be continued!)