Today there is snow news. Here at Pook Farm, we had a few mesmerising snow flurries the other day, and was about to partake in the uploading of the public Zeitgeist. Unfortunately, the hamster in the mobile modem had a hernia from the strain and my accountant advised against sharing, citing possible bankruptcy from data charges. Then the lawyer rang up saying you better not put that Fly My Pretties song on as a soundtrack as you might get thrown into Copyright Court.
So I thought "Sod It" and stared at the hills a bit longer.
UPDATE: Pook means Pukeko, not meth. For non-kiwis, a pukeko is an essentially useless farm export. You can't milk 'em, they taste like crap, and they have a sharp beak which they can peck you with if you try and cross-breed them with sheep.
