It has been a manic month at the Great Urban Ark. A flurry of cleaning has descended – I suspect in an attempt to avoid the front lawn. 

You see although the rest of the world – heck the rest of the section – is experiencing a drought, our front lawn has yet to hear about it.

After three weeks of pretending our lawn was not covered by the felled silver birches, Easter saw The Man of The House fire up his trusty little chainsaw and deal to them. 

As the offspring and I stacked the firewood we had bought in, TMoTH made a start on next year’s supply.  

His part of the afternoon was accompanied by a surprising amount of expletives directed at the chainsaw, the trees, and the Ark’s poultry – the Henny Penny Gang and the Runners are always keen to be in on whatever is happening – the chain kept coming off first, the trees were surprisingly hard to cut through and manoeuvre and the poultry? 

Well they just kept getting in the way.

Personally I think it had something to do with the sudden disappearance of their favourite hiding place.

After a lot of whirring, buzzing and swearing the trees were nothing more than a pile of firewood and a bundle of branches for chipping.

The lawn on the other hand was a lush green Amazon like paradise. THPG and the Runners immediately made their way through the undergrowth on the hunt for heaven only knows what. 

The grass came half way up their bodies and when the cats wandered out to lie in the grass in the sun, the scene bore a disturbing resemblance to one of those nature shows where the lions are stalking prey.

All of which would have been funny – had it not coincided with the tragic demise of our old lawnmower.  Frantic hunting on Trade Me has borne no fruit and when the Runners head to the lawn in the morning now they disappear into the undergrowth, feathery heads popping up now and then as they quack whatever messages Indian Runner Ducks quack to one another. 

THPG are only identifiable by the rustling in the grass and I’ve noticed the slobradogs find this quite unnerving and will not venture out at the same time.

I don’t think it would be so bad if the grass in question wasn’t so thick, green, and lush. You see having ducks and chickens means the lawn is pest free, fertilised, and aerated. 

Having ducks, chickens, cats and slobradogs means there is always water on the lawn and it is constantly being spread, shaken, dribbled, and spilled. The front lawn is a tropical oasis. It’s embarrassing.  I think you could lose a kid in there!

On a more serious note, the team at Rural Living would like to echo the sentiments of David Carter, Minister for Agriculture, and remind you to call the Rural Support Trust if you are struggling with the drought. 

If you have any tips you would like to share that might help others get through this difficult time please send them to editor@ruralliving.co.nz and we’ll put them up on our website immediately. 

Our team is very aware that this is a much tougher time for our readers than for any of us and we would like to help in any way we can.

Next month, we’ll be looking at Devon Cattle, rainwater harvesting, waste management and taking a wander around Waipu.  The Great Urban Ark will also have some new arrivals – but I’m not saying any more – you’ll have to check out next month’s issue for details.