Well. Gosh. We saw House No. 5 this morning. It's on with the same Estate Agent as House No. 4 and we have put in an application for it as per the Estate Agent's advice yesterday to to keep looking until we were certain we had somewhere. It has had a refurbish, they are looking for long-term tenants, it is nice and rural; it has a small garden; and it has the option to also rent two stables and a field.
B says that if we get it, I can have a pony.
I have no idea why he thinks that ponies are less work than goats. But please can we not dis-abuse him, quite yet, anyway? I am torn between a pony and a donkey. Donkeys have such nice noses, don't they?
Today we have also been to Llanfair show. We wandered around, admired all the red, blue and yellow cards our friends had won for their vegetables and their cakes; looked at the display of old tractors; spoke to a six week old baby rhea (gorgeous, but apparently the adults kick like mules and you catch them by putting a bucket over their heads); and generally chilled out.
Then some more friends came back for a coffee and we talked chickens for an hour, before going to visit yet ANOTHER friend for a complicated chicken-sale transaction that involved chasing Jubilee Orpingtons around an orchard until they legged it through a hedge and we gave up.
I got home about an hour ago and B had already put Leo to bed. So I've had a relaxed tea ... and now Mrs We Must Have Drinks from up the hill has just phoned to say that her dog has killed one of our chickens. The number of people I know with badly behaved dogs seems to be higher than the number with well-behaved ones at the moment.
Not sure which bird it is as B didn't do a head-count when he shut them up - but she's offered to pay for it, and was very shuffley-feeted bless her.
I am ready to move now.
Tomorrow: Setting off an acaricide smoke-thingy in the chicken house to kill the red mite; bankruptcy form-filling; and possibly Glansevern Food Festival if we have time.