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Authors: Katrina Nannestad
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better than the bagpipes by a long shot.
Wes and Fez broke Peterâs nose today. Something to do with the Flying Ferals catapult and Peter riding past on the motorbike at the wrong time. Dad said Wes and Fez would have to help with the fencing for a few days until Peter is able to work again.
James Welsh-Pearson rang this evening! Thankfully I answered the phone and realised who it was before I identified myself. I put on my best Italian accent and said, âScusi mamma mia. The spaghettiâs boiling over. I have to go. Arrivederci!â
Mum looked a bit suspicious when I told her it was a wrong number.
I hope he isnât ringing Miss McKenzie to beg her to marry him.
Saturday, 20 January
âPresidents and Puppetsâ by Festering Punks blasted across the plains at 6.35 am. Dad started to sing along as he was getting dressed!
James Welsh-Pearson rang again today. Sophie answered the phone and talked sweetly for five minutes, asking all about Mrs WP and her latest game of mah jong. I signalled for her to hang up, but she pretended not to understand.I wrote HANG UP YOU SILLY TWIT!!! on a piece of paper, but she turned her back to me and chatted on.
Iâm not proud of what I did next but, really, I had no choice â¦
I put the bagpipes CD on full blast, opened the back door and stood out of the way. Gerty charged in, squealing with anger, and head-butted the first person she saw. Sophie crashed to the floor and skidded under the dining table. The phone flew into the lounge room. Gerty bolted along the hallway and out the front door. I grabbed the phone and hung up.
When James rang back, I pretended he had called an ice-cream shop in Denmark.
And when Sophie blamed me for the enormous bruise on her bum, I pretended it was an innocent mistake.
Dad came home tonight with a swollen thumb and a split lip. Wes and Fez looked like theyâd tried to escape a prisoner-of-war camp by running full-speed through the barbed-wire fencing. Dad said Sophie and I would have to help with the fencing on Monday because things didnât work out so well with the twin tornadoes.
Sunday, 21 January
Watched cricket all day.
Just me, Dad, Peter, Petal and a plate of ham sandwiches.
No dodgy phone calls from James Welsh-Pearson.
No emotional phone calls from Matilda Jane the Mature.
No phone calls from anyone , for that matter. I pulled the telephone connection out of its socket before breakfast and Mum didnât notice until 10.30 pm. Hee hee!
Total peace and quiet.
Bliss!
Monday, 22 January
James WP rang again this morning. What is wrong with that man?
Thankfully Peter answered the phone, because I was out fencing with Dad. When Peter realised who it was, he started singing the Malaysian national anthem (learnt from his friend Xiu), just like Iâd asked him to. James hung up.
Mat is coming to stay for a week tomorrow. Mr and Mrs Sweeney have a veterinary conference in Sydney. Lynetteâs staying with Sarah Love.
Gavin is coming to stay for a few days, too, because he reckons Mat is always good for a laugh. Poor Mat. I hope sheâs over the whole wind and diarrhoea trauma, otherwise sheâll be unbearable to live with.
Tuesday, 23 January
Mat and Mr Sweeney arrived at seven this morning, with Sheba in the horse float. Mr Sweeney said Sheba couldnât be left at home on the farm because she has to be given special digestive tablets every morning and night. Sheâs on a strict diet of fresh grass and oats â no carrots, apples, sugar or any other special treats.
Mat blushed like a beetroot. I was very sensitive and didnât mention gas or bowel bacteria or SBDs.
Sheba seems happy enough here at Hillrose Poo. Sheâs hanging out in the long grass with Macka, Gunther and the ducklings. The Festering Punksâ music seemed to upset her digestive system at sunset, but the air has been fresh and clear since. Hopefully it will stay that way!
Sophie, Mat and I have moved our
Wes and Fez broke Peterâs nose today. Something to do with the Flying Ferals catapult and Peter riding past on the motorbike at the wrong time. Dad said Wes and Fez would have to help with the fencing for a few days until Peter is able to work again.
James Welsh-Pearson rang this evening! Thankfully I answered the phone and realised who it was before I identified myself. I put on my best Italian accent and said, âScusi mamma mia. The spaghettiâs boiling over. I have to go. Arrivederci!â
Mum looked a bit suspicious when I told her it was a wrong number.
I hope he isnât ringing Miss McKenzie to beg her to marry him.
Saturday, 20 January
âPresidents and Puppetsâ by Festering Punks blasted across the plains at 6.35 am. Dad started to sing along as he was getting dressed!
James Welsh-Pearson rang again today. Sophie answered the phone and talked sweetly for five minutes, asking all about Mrs WP and her latest game of mah jong. I signalled for her to hang up, but she pretended not to understand.I wrote HANG UP YOU SILLY TWIT!!! on a piece of paper, but she turned her back to me and chatted on.
Iâm not proud of what I did next but, really, I had no choice â¦
I put the bagpipes CD on full blast, opened the back door and stood out of the way. Gerty charged in, squealing with anger, and head-butted the first person she saw. Sophie crashed to the floor and skidded under the dining table. The phone flew into the lounge room. Gerty bolted along the hallway and out the front door. I grabbed the phone and hung up.
When James rang back, I pretended he had called an ice-cream shop in Denmark.
And when Sophie blamed me for the enormous bruise on her bum, I pretended it was an innocent mistake.
Dad came home tonight with a swollen thumb and a split lip. Wes and Fez looked like theyâd tried to escape a prisoner-of-war camp by running full-speed through the barbed-wire fencing. Dad said Sophie and I would have to help with the fencing on Monday because things didnât work out so well with the twin tornadoes.
Sunday, 21 January
Watched cricket all day.
Just me, Dad, Peter, Petal and a plate of ham sandwiches.
No dodgy phone calls from James Welsh-Pearson.
No emotional phone calls from Matilda Jane the Mature.
No phone calls from anyone , for that matter. I pulled the telephone connection out of its socket before breakfast and Mum didnât notice until 10.30 pm. Hee hee!
Total peace and quiet.
Bliss!
Monday, 22 January
James WP rang again this morning. What is wrong with that man?
Thankfully Peter answered the phone, because I was out fencing with Dad. When Peter realised who it was, he started singing the Malaysian national anthem (learnt from his friend Xiu), just like Iâd asked him to. James hung up.
Mat is coming to stay for a week tomorrow. Mr and Mrs Sweeney have a veterinary conference in Sydney. Lynetteâs staying with Sarah Love.
Gavin is coming to stay for a few days, too, because he reckons Mat is always good for a laugh. Poor Mat. I hope sheâs over the whole wind and diarrhoea trauma, otherwise sheâll be unbearable to live with.
Tuesday, 23 January
Mat and Mr Sweeney arrived at seven this morning, with Sheba in the horse float. Mr Sweeney said Sheba couldnât be left at home on the farm because she has to be given special digestive tablets every morning and night. Sheâs on a strict diet of fresh grass and oats â no carrots, apples, sugar or any other special treats.
Mat blushed like a beetroot. I was very sensitive and didnât mention gas or bowel bacteria or SBDs.
Sheba seems happy enough here at Hillrose Poo. Sheâs hanging out in the long grass with Macka, Gunther and the ducklings. The Festering Punksâ music seemed to upset her digestive system at sunset, but the air has been fresh and clear since. Hopefully it will stay that way!
Sophie, Mat and I have moved our
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