Ship Shape Sheep

There is one question that is firmly fixed in my mind right now: What am I doing on a sheep farm 30km north of the nearest town with a guy named matt who hasn't shaved in several months and is into "hard fantasy novels"?  Of course, there are other questions on my mind.  Where are all the sheep?  Why were there two hares fighting in the field outside?  Why do none of the neighboring houses have lights on?  Why does everyone speak Swedish?  Why does Matt NOT speak Swedish?

I don't know if I will find the answer to these questions.  For now I must content myself with petting his two dogs Spirit and Jack who are currently splayed out on the floor by my feet and also with reading the new English novel I just bought at a department store in Pori, one of the most dead Finnish towns I have ever been to.  Answers should come when we start working tomorrow, giving the sheep water and putting fences into the ground to keep them from wondering.  I'm beginning to realize that a lot of farm work involves building fences.

Last night I stayed in Jyväskylä with a lesbian girl named Sani and an Argentinian couple who has been living in Kuopio.  We drank red wine and I think the Argentinian girl got a little tipsy because she was rolling around at length on the yoga ball and also talking about some kind of apparatus that would be like the "tingler" that's used for your head but instead for your entire body.  Basically she just wanted to have goosebumps all the time.  It was a little hard to understand.  I think at one point I suggested hanging nails from string and said the word "clavos" in Spanish.  The sun set very late.

Now I am in the computer roomm in Matt's house and he's downstairs watching some kind of fantasy series.  I really have no idea what the next five days have in store for me, but I figure at the very least A) a fair amount of loneliness and B) lots of Kiwi slang I don't understand.  I have caught myself just nodding yes to feign comprehension at least a few times so far when Matt has used expressions I don't understand.  Someone needs to tell people from New Zealand that the word "yes" is not pronounced "yis".

I can't believe my time at the bee farm is over already.  I can't believe that right now all the people I came to know and love are probably sitting down for a nice dinner, talking about the shenanigans from the day and who got stung and how the chicks are getting so big, and I can't believe that the American couple has moved into the cottage by the lake and taken over where I lived.  But I did need to get out of there at some point. I was ready.

And now I am ready for sheep.