Not mum of the year then?

Circumstances have dictated that we’ve become a bit of a tortoise sanctuary. I get enormous pleasure from my handful of little hinge back tortoises. They, sadly, do not get as much pleasure from me… but there you are… they are a lesson in unconditional love really.

Every time we travel, I come home to jubilant welcomes from my pups and cats. Not to mention Mandova. Heartwarming stuff. The tortoises couldn’t really give a flying… nobody thunders out to greet me.

Tommy, the original chap, did find his way into my office the other day. I was ecstatic. He dropped a large turd and exited. I guess that was a request for indoor plumbing, who knows. We have a little way to go on house training.

We are up to 5 tortoises now.

Because my lovely household know how much pleasure I get from seeing them (I feel like I am living in a nature reserve when I sit on the verandah and a tortoise wanders by), they call me every time one is spotted. Because I am the only one who can tell them apart, I spend a lot of time looking at the same tortoise, who has moved a few metres and then been spotted again by my lovely man or Mandova. I actually don’t mind, I am grateful for their thoughtfulness and I do like seeing the little fellows.

We are still relatively ignorant on tortoises but what I can advise is there is a lot of sex. A lot. This has, inevitably, resulted in babies. Eggs, they lay eggs. The girls take weeks and weeks of rumbling around and digging holes to get to the point of actually producing anything. During this time, the sex doesn’t stop. There should be a crime line they can phone.

But, last night, my old girl, Tummy laid eggs. Great excitement. She is the biggest and presumably the oldest (ages are a secret not shared), and she’s really battered. Perhaps there was an errant lawnmower in her past. Doesn’t stop her getting lucky it appears.

So, she laid some eggs. Nowhere near any hole that had previously been dug. She laid them on the pathway paving. And crushed one of them during her labours it seems.

On the morning of the evening birth, she was quietly having a drink of water when she was rudely pushed into the water bath and assaulted from behind. She probably still doesn’t know by who. When I asked her this morning who the dad of this lot were, she advised that how do you even know what baked bean actually makes you fart?

This morning, Tommy was wooing her again. Straight after a night of labour! Rude.

So, now we have eggs. Whether they are fertilised or not is an unknown. They are surprisingly large. Apparently the survival rate is quite low because nurturing is not really in the nature of a tortoise. I gave Tummy some mushrooms and cucumbers this morning and congratulated her. She was not enquiring of what I had done with her growing babies. Not mum of the year this one.

A friend advised me that I need an incubator for the eggs. I informed my lovely man who said ‘wot, do they have incubators in the wild then, maternity wards and health care?’

Guess the eggs are taking their chances.

Living his best life

My lovely man and I travel what is known as the Beira Corridor quite regularly.

Beira port functions well, so road transport is alive and well in our neck of the woods.

For a variety of reasons I won’t bore you with, I am the designated driver. I get no thanks for this act of service. I do get an ongoing stream of input. Mostly ignored. Except if we are in imminent danger. I then react… But grudgingly.

Another thing that happens quite grudgingly is the acknowledgement that there are a bucket load of trucks on the roads. Road improvement, road widening and managing this volume at the borders is not an obvious priority.

If you ever feel a bit mizzy about your job, thank your lucky stars you are not a truck driver on the Beira Corridor. Patience in abundance seems required.

So, on a recent road trip, we found ourselves in a grid lock of enormous trucks, trailers and other cars. Patience…. was not in evidence.

After a time when it became apparent nothing was going to move, my lovely man bounced out of the car ‘to see what the hell is happening’.

A further significant period of time passed and it dawned on me he may be lost for ever.

I immediately panicked. But then…. I realized he hadn’t taken the biscuits.

Another epoch passed as I munched happily on the biscuits and beamed up at all truck drivers around me.

I pondered if I should consider rationing the biscuits.

And then! Miraculously, we started to move. I wondered vaguely where my lovely man was in this chaos of trucks, trailers and cars and looked fondly at his phone that was in the car, with me. I hoped that we would find each other somehow, or that he would at least find his way home one day.

But! It was him! My lovely man. Kicking arse and taking names. Full traffic cop mode. Instructing people left and right to stop being knobs and move this way and that way. Saving the day. His only regret was not having a reflective jacket. And maybe a little cap. And a gun. Or at least a baton.

Everybody loving him and grateful.

And in no time we were on our way. What a guy.

What happened to the biscuits he asked me.