Z cheers a chick

I could use this as a diary about “how I feel” but i’m not going to. This has always – well, mostly – been a cheerful and outward-looking blog and that’s how it’s going to stay. I know people enjoy it when I reminisce and I’m trying to think of something to reminisce about that I haven’t already done. Hmm. I’ll come back to you. Or if you can think of any subject, do suggest it.

But, as for today. During the strong winds that went on for weeks, several ridge tiles blew off the barn/garage complex. I know, that’s not a great way of describing it but it’s quite a sizeable area, it’s quite old – I suppose there were stables and workshops originally and the present workshop is where a piggery used to be, apparently. Anyway, I spoke to my friendly neighbourhood builder, whose daughter has joined the business with him, a few weeks ago and they turned up today. She’s the one who clambers about on roofs nowadays. The tiles hadn’t broken, luckily – there were about eight in all and they were from the end rather than along the top of the ridge, so it was quite straightforward to get at them. I’ve known T and his family for as long as I’ve lived here, they and their children are much the same age as me and mine.

The foster mother hen and chick have been getting very impatient in the smallish coop – it’s supposed to be big enough for four hens to live in, but the poor things wouldn’t much care for that and I can’t think where their food and water would go. Last summer, Tim and I constructed a wood and wire run to attach to the coop, which we draped netting over, but we can’t find that anywhere. I’ll ask Wince if he’s dismantled it or else where he’d put it, but I didn’t want to wait a couple more days until I see him. So we carried the dog crate we bought for Eloise cat last summer when she was confined after her op and put that in front of the coop instead. It gives them an extra 4 foot by 2 foot space in the open air on grass and I can edge it from side to side a bit when they destroy the grass. We had to block it in with bricks and cover over part of it so that their food doesn’t get wet with rain or dew, but it’s much better than they had. I’ve got a horrible feeling that the chick looks more guy than gal, but I haven’t any others to compare it to and it’s too early to know really.

I was a bit tired and headachy tonight – I am perfectly well, but due a good night’s sleep – so didn’t cook the fish I’d bought. Tim scrambled home-laid eggs instead. Tim is good. Totes adorbs, in fact. I don’t mind being confined to barracks with him in the least.

3 comments on “Z cheers a chick

  1. Blue Witch

    I’m appalled by the number of people who have called here looking for eggs. None of them ever buy from us normally, and I’m not going to be supplying them now! Our nice eggs are going to be for local, regular customers only.

    The size of hen pens is a crime – worse conditions than caged hens I often think, without the carefully controlled and monitored environment. There seem to be fewer hen keepers around here now – the novelty must have worn off. They were ‘hen havers’ rather than ‘hen keepers’ anyway.


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