I haven’t written because not much has happened. I used to write regardless of whether I had anything to say, which might have made me more inventive and entertaining, or might have been deadly dull: I can’t judge that without looking through years of daily posts and I don’t think I’m up for that.
The chicks are still doing well and I have an admission to make – which hasn’t gone out on Facebook or anywhere else; only Tim and Wince know; which is that Scrabble is sitting on more eggs. Rose always says she’s unreliable and she did leave them for a little while yesterday, but she has been sitting for over a week. She had been scooting off to lay an egg as soon as I released the chooks from the henhouse each morning, but when I dished my foot, I disregarded numbers for a few days, so didn’t notice that she wasn’t returning at night.
The coop is ready, I’ll put her in it in another couple of days and, if she is unhappy enough to abandon the eggs, she will be let out again. If she stays, she’s in it for the duration. I think she’s sitting on eight eggs, so probably six chicks at most, which will hatch early next month.
I think we’ve got at least three, probably four, hopefully not more cock chicks. One of my favourites is, I’m sure, a boy, so I must not have favourites as we can’t keep any boys. They’re all doing very well. Wince and I moved the run yesterday, so they’ve got fresh grass, and I tried releasing Canasta, but she was so unhappy that I put her back. Good mummy.
I’ve tried to add photos but, though I can upload them, I am only given the options to delete or unselect them. Perhaps WordPress will get its act together and iron out this glitch. In the meantime, I can only suggest you befriend me on Facebook, which I know some of you object to on principle, not without reason. I’ll try again tomorrow.