CHOICE

Being a farmer is one of the best jobs in the world. Reckon. Out in the weather both good and bad. Good mates. Some drongoes but. Never mind. We sort them out. I run the old family farm. Sheep. Some crops. Lamb for Sainsbury's in the old country. Believe that? Hard bloody graft though especially when the weather is rotten. Love it though. What gets up my nose though is the pay-outs given to these dairy jokers. Don't mind the good old established ones but these new bastards fair get my goat. Newbies we call them. Bought some poor tired old bugger out and put in dairy herds.

Bastards shit all over the place. Can't use the old swimming hole anymore. Full of cow muck. Now the bastards get a big hand out from Fonterra. Where's the hand out for the good Kiwi sheep farmer then? Maybe the old man made the wrong choice in going sheep. Stuck with it. Don't mind though and I won't change. At least no one can say that I wsa responsible for all the shit in this country. I drink soy milk. Better for you.

DOWN SOUTH

I'm normally outside doing a man's job but the damn weather is so bad at the moment I can't get outside. Snow drifts are up to the roof. Luckily I can use my whistle so the dogs can sort out the sheep. Clever little bastards. I've even trained them to get their tucker out of the shed. Looks like we'll be in here for a few days. Bugger! Got the generator going though. Runs well. Stinks the place up a bit. Reckon the old sheila will get a bit narky after a while as I had to put it in the bedroom. Still. It means that I can get the rugby channel on the old TV and the fridge goes. Saturday will be OK then. Saw the news. Rubbish. Full of Dorklanders stealing and Wellingtonians moaning. Can't even do a bloody job with 16 weeks bloody holiday. Whingers. Get a real job. Still. They look after the bloody kids. Had to push the little buggers out through the window this morning to go to school. Moaned a bit. Soft. I used to walk barefoot to school 15 miles through... well must admit. This storm is the worst since '72. Hell, gotta go. Old sheila complaining about something. Either that or I'm on a promise.