While I was in the city, Mwanza on Friday, I bought my first-ever hair clipper set. I know there are ladies in this world, who cut their husbands' and sons' hair, and many even cut their own hair while standing in front of the bathroom mirror. Well, I'm not one of them. Although I had three menfolk in my family, not once was I ever tempted to trim or style their hair. I cannot even cut my own bangs.
I'd bought the clippers because Grant, who's been growing his hair since last Easter, decided it was time to cut his hair again. There being no barber or hairdresser within a 1000km radius of the camp, Marnitz, the young production manager who started here the same time as Grant, said he would cut Grant's hair. He asked me to use a scissors and cut off the long locks at the back (first photo); afterwards he clipped, snipped, shaved away until Grant looked like a new pin!
Now that's better, dear!
Thanks for the comments about the cat-tree in our lounge. Once it had been brought in, I realised that the cats couldn't jump up from the floor into two of the boxes. So Grant sent Martin and one carpenter here to make suitable adjustments. They added a lower deck below the two "problem" boxes respectively. On Sunday Grant glued strips of carpeting to the decks, the top of each box and added fitted carpets inside.
You have to live with cats to know how inquisitive they are! Here Shadow and Ambrose inspect the carpet while Grant cuts the pieces
Grant cuts the carpet to size on the deck/step below the box
Last week I posted about a hen and chicken in my garden. I also wrote about a hen who had ten chickens in the adult chicken run at the Guest House and how I'd brought her and the babies home as well. On Friday I was feeding some greens to the Guest House chickens when I noticed a newly-hatched chicken in the run. I called Kyemba, the gardener to help me catch the mother hen. Kyemba then carried the sqawking mama-hen over to my house with me, holding the chicken following behind. We placed the hen and chicken in our small overnight chicken house to acclimatise. When we let her out later on, she was soon clucking and encouring her baby to eat the lovely fresh grass and plentiful insects in the garden.
When I returned to the chicken run, I checked on the second hen sitting on eggs. As I put my hand under her, I felt a fluffy little body. I wondered why she'd already hatched one chicken when still sitting on seven or eight eggs. (The two hens had sat very close together and obviously she'd gathered the first one's eggs under herself!) I left the chicken right there as I imagined that the hen knew what she was doing!
On Sunday I was concerned that the chicken was still under its mother while she sat on her eggs. So I called Kyemba and told him I wanted to remove all the eggs under that hen and take her and ONE chick over to my garden. Kyemba doesn't speak much English but told me I must not destroy the hen's eggs as they'd hatch soon. So I said I wanted her to get out and show her chick how to eat, when he said, "but this chicken's mother is at your house!" So I put my hand under the hen who gave me a good peck for my trouble, pulled out the new chicken and together Kyemba and I walked over to my house!
Edwin, my gate guard, helped us catch the first hen and single chick; we placed her and with TWO chicks now, in the outhouse. I gave them a little mashed maize and shut the door. A while later I peeked in and saw she was sitting on the floor with both her chicks under her! We'll let them out today and another bunch of happy chickens will enjoy my garden!
The little chicken in the front was left under another broody hen when Kyemba and I brought its mum and sibling over to my garden!
I hope you all have a great week ahead. (We have two very special occassions this week, but more about this later...)