222 days.

It is wet.


The ground is soggy and the world seems more miserable than ever.

One of the giant staghorns at the back door popped a chain yesterday after taking on a lot of water.  It is One Big Mother of a staghorn … and its a two-person job to get it down.

But I tried doing it by myself anyway.

As a result, I’ve successfully pulled every green leaf off the thing. Destroyed it.  Yet it is still hanging on the wall, too heavy for me to lift down.

Yet another way that you are missing from our lives … fixing this would be YOUR job.  I should just wave in its general direction, explain the issue in a few words and you would have it sorted.


You were rather awesome in that you could load the heaviest things onto a trailer or simply move them about the yard or at the farm, despite only weighing about 75 kg wringing wet.  Tall and wiry – that was you.

A few times now, I’ve had big burly blokes (like Andrew) come in, see something you’d managed to lift onto a high shelf or simply remove it from the backyard,  and wonder how on earth you did it  when they couldn’t budge it.

The brain of an engineer, the resourcefulness of a farmer and the body of  marathon runner …. you were amazing.

I miss your amazingness.

I love you.