Jack and I are exhausted. There is so much spring cleaning going on requiring close supervision that by evening we fall into our beds (after a warm dinner, of course) and sleep the sleep of the hard working. Our unprecedented early spring has the humans running about like mad things, trying to tidy up before the greenery and insects take over.
Yesterday they appeared in our paddock with the hand-held tree mangling device. I have seen this device in operation from a distance and welcomed the opportunity to see it at work close up. I must confess that up close it is even more magnificent than anticipated. The humans were clearing what they call scrub trees from the fence line so I was able to stick my head through the fence for a clearer view. The beast springs to life, shrieking and growling in a deafening manner and shooting wood chips in all directions. I drew closer. As I was studying the thing in detail, I was seized by the neck and dragged away.
Herself babbled on about eye damage, hearing loss and general destruction of my person. What nonsense. I shook the wood chips from my head and stalked off. This mangling device is as impressive as the big red combine and it's only as big as a cat. I have not given up and will use every subterfuge to increase my knowledge on this front.
When they weren't mangling trees they were frantically coaxing the misplaced gravel back onto the drive. This process stirs up all sorts of dried leaves, and as the wind was blowing in our direction, we varied new grass shoots with crunchy tidbits. We also supervised them as they crept along the ditch, filling one of the dreaded shavings bags with winter refuse. I asked for permission to view the contents and was refused.
We are having a visitor for Easter dinner tomorrow and we have been promised the first donkey walk of the year. Jack says he feels "fit as a fiddle and near ta bustin with inergy" so it may be a more animated stroll than they anticipate.