I bashed the side of my face in with a drill. It was not my finest moment.
We spent half the morning putting up new nesting boxes for the Hihis at Bush 22. Nikki and I went as a team to wrench off the old boxes, and I drilled the new ones in. Just as the screw nears the end of the board, there’s a kickback in the drill that swings the whole device around and square into the side of my head. Which just so happens to be the same level as the higher screw. Ow. It hurts to be short.
While the UK basks in it’s 28 degree sunny glory, it pitters and patters here. No that’s not the sound of of mice (there are no invasive mammals on this island) but the sound of the rain and my tears as I got lost in the bush. Alright I didn’t cry. But that’s only because I had Nikki to bushwhack our way out in a thunderstorm up a hill. Pretty. Pretty. Miserable.
Tonight’s meal was gradient display of culinary skills from the lovely french with their beautifully plated, three-dish vegetarian gourmet feast to the brits faring somewhere in the middle, and our Kiwi who admirably scarfed down 2 packets of pot noodles and a can baked beans after proclaiming all shell fish were pretty much one big genitalia (and you thought I was bad).
I think my face will colour beautifully in a couple of days.
Put in a photo of Greg the Takahe, friendliest fowl on the island. Always hunkering for a nibble