The Lush Places Petting Zoo, our grand money-spinning plan, which I have claimed for the past eight years to be under construction, is no longer under construction. In truth it has never, except inside my head, been under construction.
It was a nice enough imaginary construct when we had paddocks full of friendly sheep eager to be petted. The flock has now gone. Miles the sheep farmer, who we first met when we came to look at what would become Lush Places, has retired and moved to Australia. The flock has moved, hopefully happily, to Taupō. I now have only three pet sheep, mostly ancient, plus, temporarily, Reginald, my ram lamb who is now enormous. Pru, the donkey lady and saviour of all animals, is going to take him. I can’t keep him. He’s got some weird thing with me. Ram lambs can be very scary. They can butt, as I, and my ACC claim, can attest.
We still have three evil chickens but they are elderly and starting to look it. Also, they really hate being petted and would likely peck out the eyes of anyone mad enough to try. We do have four and a half cats. The half is the matriarch. In eight years we have failed to tame her. She is the mother of the others, who have been tamed from the wild and are entirely domesticated.
The mother’s name is Nora Batty, but she is more commonly referred to as the “Mad Mother”. Or as “Growl, Hiss”, which is what she does to us all day long despite having taken up residence in the house and getting three square meals a day plus cat treats. If you tried to pet her she’d have your arm off as soon as look at you. The other cats, meanwhile, gallop off if they encounter anyone but us. I also planned to have wild baby rabbits for petting, but the cats ate them all.
So I am shutting down the construction of the Lush Places Petting Zoo, due to lack of funding, lack of interest, but mostly lack of friendly animals.
We now have nine acres of grazing land but no animals and no income. So I googled something like “desperate ways to make money from your rural property” and it came up with: “Turn your land into a fun recreational space! You could set up a paintball course, a fishing pond, or even a mini-golf course. People will pay to come and have fun on your land.”
I ruled out the paintball immediately. We don’t want to encourage budding pre-teen terrorists. I liked the idea of a miniature golf course. There is one in Masterton, so we went to check out the competition. There isn’t any. The mini-golf course consists of a number of concrete structures, a red rock and half an old tyre.
My miniature golf course would have a mini windmill (which is obligatory, surely?), a mini Eiffel Tower and a mini Palace of Versailles. Also, in a nod to its location, a mini paddock with mini sheep and a mini sheep dog. I really did miss my calling as an entrepreneur.
How about a miniature railway? There is also one in Masterton. It is pretty cute. We can’t afford to set up our own, but Greg suggested he could hitch up the mini-trailer to the ride-on John Deere mower and drive kids about the paddocks. We could paint fake rail tracks on the grass. Kids are easily fooled, aren’t they?
My googling also provided this: “Teach something: do you have a skill or hobby you’re passionate about? Use your land to teach others! Whether it’s gardening, yoga or beekeeping, people will pay to learn from you.” I suppose I could charge people to come to Lush Places to learn how to lie down on the bed and read books about sheep.
I have belatedly realised that all of these ideas, beginning with the petting zoo, are a nonsense. Not only because they are ludicrously unachievable, but because they all involve people coming to our place. We moved to Lush Places to get away from people. Still, we need some dosh. The miniature golf course is under construction.
