Day 11, Level 1 (Sunday): Rugby, alpacas, Sparkle Bar, Sandspit and Hantavirus

A busy little day today, after a nice lie-in.

Brett did some handyman DIY stuff and I made scones.  He headed back to Auckland after lunch, and new friend Lynn who lives in Matakana came over and we went for a beach walk. It was quite windy on the beach, with a slight nip in the air. A few surfers out. 

Had a chat back at the house and then she headed home to get there in time to watch the rugby test match - All Blacks versus Wallabies. I mentioned we didn't have Sky so I couldn't watch it - and that was why Brett left so early, to get home to watch the game. I wasn't that bothered, although I do like rugby and have rather missed it - no games, and of course Sam isn't here to go to his Saturday games. Not that he would have been playing any even if he had been here. 

Lynn invited me to go watch it at their place so I took up her offer. It was a bit of a scrappy game, but there were some star moments, especially by newcomer Caleb Clarke. We don't like his hairdo but we do like his rugby skills. A convincing win to the ABs 27-7.

Two guys arrived toward the end of the game - they are alpaca shearers and had come to shear Lynn and Greg's three alpacas. Lynn invited me to stay to watch this annual spectacle. She warned me they don't like it one bit, and it's a very strategic and stressful process from start to finish. She also said that one of them screams the whole time. Whitney would go last on account of this! I was fascinated. 

The alpacas are literally tied down and stretched out like legs of lamb to enable the shearers to do their job. They are ungainly creatures and if not tied down, would run amok and a mile, with their long legs and carefree minds. So one by one the alpacas were brought to the yard whereby the two shearers and Greg put ropes around their feet and got them into stretched-out position ready for shearing. The shearer guy was very skilled and the amount of fleece was impressive and very soft. The other guy cut their toenails - no simple matter, those nails are like snipping pot handles! All the guys were on deck holding and manoeuvring the beasts. Lynn and I were sweeping up the fleece.

First up was Tammy - she's a cream alpaca. She didn't like the process one bit and kind of shuddered and protested as much as shackled legs would allow. It looks cruel but in fact is for their own good, otherwise it would be impossible to shear them. 

Tammy ready to be shorn! Bless!

Lynn and I scooped up all the fleece as it came off. There is the blanket (the main body fleece) and then the head, neck and legs - which are the "rubbishy" bits. Once they're shorn - it didn't take too long although the more the alpaca protested the longer the job took - then they're back off to pen.

Once Tammy was done, next up was Ursa, who has dark brown fleece. Ursa was a cool customer. She let herself be shackled and shorn without drama. Although she clearly wasn't a huge fan, she had worked out that if she just let them get on with things, it would all be over in a jiffy. And it was. Her fleece was beautifully soft and a lovely deep chocolate brown colour. It came off swiftly, she was shorn to smithereens in a matter of minutes, and she was free to go. 

Finally, it was Whitney's turn. She's a light brown/fawn colour. Lynn warned me that the screaming was about to begin. Due to this screaming she always goes last - otherwise the other two would work out what was about to happen and might take up screaming too!

Whitney was brought to the yard - actually, she had to be carried because she wasn't obliging by walking. What a sight - two guys holding and supporting her back end and legs off the ground, while her front legs walked along - it was "wheelbarrow" style!

And then the screaming began. OMG I've never heard a sound like it. She squealed and yelled and whimpered and garumphed and thrashed herself about to try to make things as difficult as possible. It made a tantruming 2yo look positively tame! It was quite stressful to watch and Lynn and I weren't sure whether to laugh or cry. Lynn said that Whitney did this every time she was shorn (once a year) and that's just the way it was - Lynn still dreads the whole thing. It was an alarming sound, and she also vomitted up some grass as she screamed the whole neighbourhood down! Apparently it's not that uncommon for them to scream like this when being shorn - but thankfully Lynn only has one out of three that does it. 

What an ordeal! Harrowing for all and we were all very glad when it was over and Whitney was unshackled and could hurry back to her pen, looking all clean and shorn and sleek. The screaming stopped as soon as the ordeal did!

Newly shorn Whitney!

Well, that was an entertaining half hour I hadn't been expecting! I'm really glad I got to experience it. 

Back inside, Lynn gave me one of her new Sparkle Bars - it's a household cleaning "soap" bar - made of special ingredients. She developed it during lockdown. She's a holistic nutritionist and into natural things. I make my own home-made spray & wipe solution - I never buy commercial varieties with all their chemicals and strong smells. So this is ideal. We have a stainless steel bench at Omaha and the special stainless steel cleaner I had wasn't doing a good job. She assured me her Sparkle Bar would do the trick. And - oh yes, it sure did. Like magic, the lustre of the stainless steel returned. No more toxic stainless steel cleaner required. 

She's been thinking of marketing her bar - and I encouraged to do so. It cleans everything from stainless to benches to dishes to bathrooms. It's all you need. It's natural, plant-based, not at all messy or chemically stinky. Perfect!

I only met Lynn two weeks ago, but I feel like I've known her for decades, and we have so many connections it's uncanny. We're both Virgos, both have two sons, both creative, both a bit bonkers. Plus there is the London connection (she's English) and Remuera connection (she lived in same suburb as us for many years). And now there is the Matakana connection! And many more besides - most of which we haven't even discovered yet!

After I left their place, I decided to go down to the end of their road for a view of Sandspit as twilight approached. Sandspit is a yachting spot - loads of yachts moored there. 

There wasn't a soul in sight and it was as peaceful and beautiful and serene as a scene can be. Lynn and Greg's house overlooks this view from up high. 

Back in Omaha I had dinner (last night's leftovers - chicken teriyaki on rice) and watched the final instalment of "The Trouble with Maggie Cole" on TV. I loved this series. Comedy-drama very well done. Dawn French was superb as Maggie and Mark Heap exceptional as her endearing husband Peter. A tale of how gossip can get out of hand but have positive consequences. A story of guilt and remorse and redemption and forgiveness. 

I didn't do a skerrick of work today. Nil, niente, nada, rien. Nothing. Nice!

SHARE-NOTE OF THE DAY:
Hantavirus ...

Have you heard of it? Neither had I until today. While on our beach walk Lynn told me about her late husband Jack - who died of it in 2016. 

Hantavirus is rare. It's not contagious. And it's not at all easy to catch in the first place. But it is usually fatal. The virus is in the urine, faeces and saliva of mice and rats - and humans catch it by breathing in air contaminated with the virus. Rare and bizarre. Here's an example of how it can happen. 

Jack was American and they spent a lot of time in the States as well as NZ. They were coming to NZ for an extended period and left their cars garaged in the States for a few months. When they got back to the US, Jack drove his car and it kept cutting out. He thought it must be an electrical fault and after a while took it to the mechanics. They took a look and then asked him to come in and take a look. Within the engine, mice had built a nest, while the car was dormant in the garage. They asked Jack if he was feeling unwell at all. "Matter of fact," he said, "Yes." They told him about Hantavirus and advised him to get to a doctor. 

Turned out that as he was driving around, the virus from the mice faeces (they were by now dead mice) was coming into the car via the aircon system - and making its way into Jack's respiratory system. He had the virus. It was also the nest that was causing the car to cut out - they had all been electrocuted but were still in the engine. 

To cut a long story short, Lynn and Jack came back to NZ and he was hospitalised within a couple of months. Lynn explained to the medical staff what he had - but they didn't believe her. It took some convincing. There have been no cases in NZ, it is not in this country. Thankfully. And hopefully it will stay that way. It's in Asia and the US mainly. 

Eventually the hospital did some research and then relented and realised it was a real thing. There is no cure and by this stage Jack's organs were being attacked through and through. The blood vessels in his heart were being decimated. His liver was shot. Muscle tissue eroded. Lungs attacked. He died a terrible horrible death. 

If this horrific and almost unreal story isn't enough to warrant Euthanasia, I don't know what is! I just hope upon hope that our bill goes through - the results of the referendum won't be known for another week or two. I have my fingers crossed it gets enough YES votes. 

This virus sounds much nastier than Covid. But thankfully rare and not contagious. I have my fingers crossed that Hantavirus never gets to our shores. But with our very rigorous bio-security measures, it's unlikely. But ... nothing is guaranteed. 

Golly, the things you learn!

My learning dose today was Hantavirus, alpaca shearing and Sparkle Bar magic!

And a few other bits and bobs that weren't quite as impacting as those three things! Learning something, at least one thing, every day, is my favourite thing.