House Sitting

So I never got really any pictures from Fish n Chips the other night. I got a few of Roman, my Swiss friend. And a few of Dan and Roman playing pool but nothing good enough to post on this journal (sorry Aunt Marg). I'll get to it eventually, I promise.

So today, tomorrow and Saturday I am house sitting for a family from here in town. I've really only met them once or twice but they asked if I'd be interested in having my own place for a few days. So I'm on a farm! Sort of...

It's an amazing huge piece of land up on a hill with a gorgeous view. There are two dogs - Stirling is a GIANT piece of dog. I don't even know what kind he is but he's pretty massive. And Tessa is a little border collie puppy - only about 4 months old or so. I also get to take care of 3 cats. And about 2 dozen "chooks" as everyone calls them here. They're intimidating little things...following me up the pen as I walk past...crowding around me and staring with their little beady eyes and standing on one leg as if ready to pounce. I have to go in and collect the eggs, wash them off and make sure they get into the egg baskets at the B&B COTTAGES (!!!).

So house sitting here is no easy task. I have to prettymuch run these two little B&B's - since there are people certainly booked in for the weekend. I have to sort of be the information centre for them and make sure they know the rules, etc.

So I've felt completely inadequate already because one couple who just arrived got confused because I thought they would be checking into the Real Journeys place down in town for their Milford Cruise, but then they read the receipt that says "Depart from: Milford" so then they made me call and double check that it would be in Milford. Rather, the man made me. The wife has been quite understanding but the guy seems to be completely anal and particular and detailed. I don't think he understands the fact that I just got a crash course in B&B hosting yesterday.

The second group of guests hasn't arrived yet, but a little old lady and two of her bingo buddies (ha, I don't know if they really play bingo but that's my way of saying 3 little old ladies) came in asking for "any hope for a place to sleep tonight?" and of course I had to turn them away. Then they asked if I'd phone around to other B&B's for them to see if they could find a place to sleep.

...I DON'T KNOW OTHER B&B'S!!! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE THE DANG PHONE DIRECTORY IS IN THIS HOUSE!!!

ha...I wasn't really flipping out there but I called the only one I knew of (and the only reason I knew of it is because it's only a few houses down from Karl's house and I pass it everytime I go to his place) after rummaging through the house for the phone directory. I called them and made all the arrangements for these ladies to stay in the B&B owner's holiday house and sent them guessing their way into Te Anau because I had no idea how to direct them to 44 Moana Crescent (like I know the names of the streets! EESH!). Oh well.

So I've been here about 5 hours. I've been bitten by a chicken once. Nipped at and chased by a pony (I was just trying to be nice walking along and one of them went into a canter and reared back when I jumped at the sound of quick hoofbeats behind me). I was told that the ponies were friendly. I'm not too used to horses or ponies in general so I was a little edgy going in. But I tried to relax and turn on my animal charm that can tame the most vicious of cats. And what do I get?

NIPPED!

So after trying to get them to trust me (there's two of them - one was particularly untrusting and avoided me mostly and the other was just pushy and jumpy) I decided to leave. And realized that when I closed the gate behind me, paddock "base board" as I call it was slightly bent outwards, holding the paddock gate firmly closed when I tried to push it open.

This is after I had shouted "Fine! I'll go!", gave them a mildly profane piece of my mind, and an even more profane piece of my hand (namely a certain finger) as I frustratedly walked towards the gate.

The ponies must've known I was going to be locked in because as I was doing this, they followed right behind me. So now I was CORNERED in the paddock by two very pushy ponies. I could almost hear them taunting me in a mock italian mobster voice "Oh? Tough girl, uh? You wanna say that to our faces, uh?".

Actually, now that I think of it, it was sort of a Joe Pesci voice.

So, thinking on my feet, I sprang around, whipped out my numbchucks and fended off the rabids beasts before they got one hoof in front of the other!
POW! WHACK! THWAP!

And that was that.

...or I just figured that they thought I was letting them out, and then bent down, used my fingers to push back the warped piece of wood holding me in my corner of death and shouted "Whoa!" as the ponies tried to follow me out.

They didn't listen. Or stop. Or..."whoa". Whatever they're supposed to do when you say "Whoa".

Maybe that's just a horse thing.

So those are my adventures so far. I've carried chicken eggs in my shirt into the house. I've been bitten by a chicken while feeding them scraps. Nipped on the arm by a pony. Chased after and reared at by the same cheeky beast. Cornered and had my very life threatened.

I could see the newspaper heading "Canadian Twit Mauled to Death by Ponies".

Knowing me - I wouldn't be surprised.