Seeing some of the family was just what I needed and have missed for the past couple of months and more. I had done some shopping for Weeza – not much, but her local supermarket has been out of flour for weeks, it was out of fresh ginger and there were no Cheerios. I know they’re a breakfast cereal but I don’t know much about them. Anyway, I was able to buy all of them (our farm shops have always had flour), though the last was bought this morning, when I went to fill up with petrol. Under £1 a litre, so a very different price from when I last filled up three months ago.
I also took half a dozen eggs to Ro and Dora on the way, so finally got my view of the baby, as well as her big brother. If only the highest echelons of government and its few trusted advisors weren’t all really unintelligent, unempathetic men, they might realise that getting the social thing right matters. If people break the rules – and they shouldn’t – it’s because they’re stupid rules. This isn’t party politics, nor even politics, because this blog doesn’t do that sort of thing.
Anyway, it’s been a lovely day.
Last night, I went to put the chickens to bed and discovered one of the missing bantams had returned with three chicks. They are now in a coop. Then Wince was strimming long grass and discovered a clutch of eggs – by the time I got home, Scrabble was brooding them again, so they are all under her in yet another coop. This is all unplanned. Scrabble has about 15 eggs. I don’t suppose she’ll hatch more than half of them, though. And more than half the chicks will be boys and cause yet more heartache. Free range chickens are not an easy option. But still, chicks are cute.