On the apparently hottest day of the year (again?) the farm looks like an African savanna. The blackcurrant leaves are turning yellow in the heat, the grass is prickly and makes that swishy sound. The rabbits are hiding, even the flies are buzzing a little bit quieter. The dog only comes out when dragged on a lead in order to be hosed down. The chucks are visibly panting.
But the humans are a hive of activity! In one morning my nephew makes his journey back to the Czech Republic (and school next week!), my friend packs an enormous suitcase and flies off to Hawaii and the neighbours gather their sons and escort them to Canada to start at a uni.
What does that mean for us? We feed. In the morning I feed Fred the dog, then the chickens. Afterwards we make sure that my brother’s cat is OK while he is depositing his son to his mother. After the cat it’s time to feed the neighbour’s guinea pigs. Then at night we repeat the process. In the meantime we also water all the plants attached to these animals and their families.
I have to say that on the other hand we have done quite well out of it. As people leave their houses for a few days they have the desire to dispose of food in case it comes to life and takes over the world while left unattended. So far we were given two nectarines, a few satsumas, packet of sliced ham, half a baguette, two peppers, half a cucumber and melted (and then frozen again) Kinder Bueno (thank you dear nephew).
So all good really. Now I am sitting at home waiting to hear who else will leave me in charge of their menagerie and perhaps their wine cellar…