My computer has finally died. So here I am borrowing the middle kid's laptop while she is watching a movie. I've got lots to write but not much time to do it in right now and no photos to get at because they're locked up in the other setup which is dead and will never rise again from electronic oblivion so I'll tell you about the Horned Horror at Midnight tale instead. Be prepared to yawn loudly as I bore you folks with another story.
It began one night with a lot of clanging, bashing and crashing. The idiot dog was yapping at the top of his lungs and something was chasing him around his kennel. Say what? There's some kind of thing with horns chasing the dawg! Dang!
Meantime, the Mad Bush Farmer with her sticking out hair, lousy attitude and a severe allergy to barking idiot dogs got woken up. "Bah!" said the Mad Bush Farmer getting out of bed and stomping down towards the source of said disturbance along the side the house. Turn on lights, shove on the gumboots and go on stomping outside in her pyjamas to investigate what the heck is going on!
Idiot dog is barking his head off at large dark shape going MOOOO! in the vegetable garden that was once surrounded by a fence. Well it was until a horned horror walked straight through it that is. Unchain the idiot dog, yell GET IT!!! and idiot dog runs the other way?? Hold it! You're supposed to go the other way dog!
Idiot dog looks back and goes and runs into his kennel, leaving the Mad Bush Farmer to deal with the Horned Horror all by her lonesome little self. Life at times is just so unfair betrayed by the idiot dog. Oh darn....Yelling didn't do it. Threats of YOU'LL GO TO THE WORKS YOU BEGGAR! made about as much impression as a slap on the head with a wet bus ticket.
The horned horror just stood there eating the grape vine, chewing her cud and leaving a nice big green pile of organic fertiliser as a thank you gift. Hence now finished with the midnight snack the horned horror stepped unceremoniously onto the other fence obliterating it completely, and high tailed it out of there for the paddock. The Mad Bush Farmer will be waiting there on the next stroke of midnight with a cattle stick and a dog that will still run for his kennel or head for the hills.
As for the writer she's going off to get a new computer this Saturday I feel sorry for anyone who will end up reading her blog posts again....
