well, i just left my farm stay in christchurch, new zealand. it’s funny to think of me going to a town with christ in it, but i was on a farm where they slaughter the lambs (and cattle for mc donalds). i do believe i’m a farm girl at heart or just a chameleon because i was really good at farming. i fed calves; pinned them and tagged their ears with the farm id tag(sort of like piercing their ears with big, numbered, plastic earrings); crotched the sheep (shaved the hair around their bottoms to avoid flies and maggots); groomed horses (they were surprised that they were so calm when i brushed them…just call me the horse whisperer); and ate a lot of fresh farm meals. basil and pauline boyd, my hosts, were shocked at how quickly i adapted. pauline suggested that i put my name on the farmer dating service and become a farmer’s wife. basil, however, laughed and said that i should just buy a farm because he didn’t know whether i should be the actual farmer or just the wife. always my dilemma…am i black or white, straight or gay…c-o-n-t-ro-v-e-r-s-y. oh yeah, chip, i didn’t putted it in the calves or sheep, but i do know why the farmers like to stick it in the mouths of the calves because basil told me to put my finger in this new calf’s mouth to teach him how to suck from the feeding machine and his mouth felt like velvet. sick, i know, but farm life is very “natural and basic.” the craziest was watching the bull get it on with a heifer. that reminds me. i will never call an old woman a heifer because a heifer is a virgin, girl cow…she hasn’t had a calf yet so i’ll have to come up with another insult. my last bit of info, always look for big knees, bright eyes, and a shiny coat when picking a calf (or date). now i am in queenstown. it’s not hard to imagine me in a town with a queen in it or a town without a queen. anyway, i’m in adventure heaven. tomorrow i will bungy, jet boat, helicopter, and white water raft my way about town. tuesday, i plan to skydive and blast off in a rocket into the sky (it’s attached to a wire). wednesday, i go hang gliding and then take a helicopter to milford sound and the glaciers with landings and hikes. hopefully i will survive all of this and come back in one piece. if not, i do have accidental death and dismemberment. veta, you’ll have some free cash for xmas and all the boxes from new zealand, vietnam, and australia (chip, thanks for mailing them)!!!!! please have a party with the money and invite all of my friends to get properly pickled. this is and has been a fun trip. i’ve learned a lot. boy, do the nzers hate the maori people. there is a real fight down here between them. the maori people are demanding more money for the land that their ancestors sold b/c they feel they were swindled. apparently, the maori people feel if they kill a whitey, they are a heroes. recently, two english tourist were stoned to death. i’m not worried b/c i was told that i looked like a maori from the 1950s. pauline said that she wouldn’t want to be in nz twenty years from now b/c she thinks the maori people will really start revolting. in her words, “they still have that violent tendency, no matter how much european blood is mixed in them.” i wonder about that “peaceful” european blood…seems to me it is also pretty violent based on past and recent history. blah blah blah…gotta run b/c i can’t sit still when there are thrills to be had. cheers, farmer jane