Apologies for the inactivity of the blog over the last month. But I was making like a Viking and going on an adventure to foreign lands to the West(well, I actually travelled East! But if you go far enough in one direction you end up at the other, right?). My journey took me by air to New Zealand. A place not discovered by the Vikings but, nonetheless, I could not stop making parrells to their culture as I walked through the Te Papa museum in Wellington. Reading of the first Maoris to discover the islands just as the Vikings had done to many parts of the world before. Being in aw of the skilled detail of the hand crafted Maori boats that, whilst different, held undeniable similarities to the Viking ship designs. Even down to the detail of the bow masts with intricate carvings. Reading about their beliefs of how the world was made. How they sacrifieced to their "gods." And their core belief that "What is given by the land should return to the land."
It also got me to thinking about what the people of sea and land would have made of air travel...yup, I was getting all philosophical on my travels! When you think about it, what the Vikings did is absolutely incredible. Putting their lives on the line in search of the unknown. Leaving their families behind with little hope they would ever return. No certainty that anything existed to the West. No idea of how long it would take to sail there if there were lands to be found. No planning for rationing food or fresh water because their journey was unspecified. Nothing but their own company and the sounds of the ocean and weather to keep them entertained. Days of rowing, little sustenance, and probable death...well those thoughts got me to stay quiet about any grumbles I had about my economy seat, the in flight meals that were handed to me, the selection of movies/tv shows on the entertainment system(sadly no Vikings!), and the hot, cold or alcoholic beverages that I could readily request at my own convenience.
Never one to miss an opportunity to further my little Viking lifestyle experiences, I embraced my inner farmer and ended up on a large dairy farm in the depths of Taranki milking 278 cows. Not quite the traditional "bucket and squeeze method" of long ago but still managed to get some farming in. I have acquired knowledge on such things as 16 hour milking when the land is too dry to warrant milking twice a day, grass substitutions(and fyi, cow poo normally smells pretty nasty, but nothing will prepare you for the sinsus shattering, stomach curdling, nauseating stench of KALE COW POO!!!! Superfood? I'm alright thanks if that's what it'll do to you!), and recognising when to hook the milking cups to the guard rail so there isn't too much pressure on the udders(obvious jokes could be made here but I'll leave that for an-udder time! #CowHumour)...Quite proud of myself that I sound like I know what I'm talking about. #NotYourAverageHoliday
In other farming news, the herd of sheep(or threep as I've come to refer to them as...because there are three of them...get it? #SheepHumour) are coming along nicely. "Sheep Ragnar" seems to have inherited his namesakes trademark move...the headbutt. This I found out in spectacular fashion upon return from my travels when I went to put out the feed and received a dead leg. For safety, it is now necessary to carry a yard brush with me to shake in his direction when he tries to make any advances.#LikeAViking
*Title Quote: Vikings Season 1, Episode 1: Rites Of Passage, Ragnar to Rollo
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