The Sage phoned this morning when he’d caught his train – he was driving down to Manningtree, because he’s planning to call on friends on the way home. He said he’d call again during the day, but he hasn’t – at least, there’s no message. I was out for a while. Two whiles, in fact. This morning, I went to practise the carols with Andy for Christmas Eve. The instruments are a shade off key with each other. Just the least little bit, and there’s nothing I can do about it. You have to have a fairly good ear to be aware of it, I think, and with a churchful of people singing, I don’t think it’ll be noticed, so we’ve agreed that he’ll do all the intros and I’ll come in with the singers.
In the afternoon, I went shopping in Beccles, and have got everything for the children. Not much more to do now. I suppose I’d better buy some food sooner or later. Still, we’re out for lunch on Sunday, and it’s not as if we want to eat more than usual, hey?
It’s turned very mild again. I was outside when the chickens started to go to roost. When it was so cold at the weekend, they were all piling into the hen house, but now they’re roosting in the trees instead. Only the old black granny (who has a deformed foot so can’t jump) is in the hut and she clucked at me when I shone a torch to check before closing the door.
I’m really pleased that my party invitation has received an enthusiastic response. Not from anyone who came last year, as yet, but there we go, maybe one can have too much of a good Z. Or maybe they are a bit too busy to read blogs at the moment. That’s got to be the answer, hasn’t it?
At the moment, a barbed wire fence is being put around the front field. For some years, it has been used to grow hay. Before that, our friend Sally used it to graze her sheep, when she used an electric fence. There are so many rabbits around that the hay crop isn’t that good, they clear a couple of largish areas in the field (which is almost 4 acres, 1 1/2 hectares if you prefer), so the Sage has decided it might as well be grazed. Pinkie and Whisper can go on for the time being, but I think it will be good if sheep go on it again. Sheep are very good for the land. Sally doesn’t have hers any more because she has a full-time job in Norwich, but another friend has a couple of dozen and they could winter here next year. We do like having animals around.
Which reminds me, I hope we are getting a couple of bantam cocks tomorrow. Johnny the farmer’s brother has them, and is looking for a good home. Of course, they may fight, in which case we’ll end up with one cock, but there’s enough space and enough girls for each to have their own little flock and keep their distance. So I hope, all being well, that we will have some chicks next year.
The it refers to the field, not any sort of fence. It’s not ambiguous, but some person, cleverer than I, will say it is and worry me. Mwah, darlings,
Two chicken-related thoughts.
Is the coop heated?
Cock fights? Potential money-maker for the farm! Just saying.
What party? Did my skim reading let me down?
Heat a chicken coop when I don’t hear my own bedroom? Darling, the most I can offer is an electric blanket, and that is unwise because of claws. And second, just teasing, I think. Rascal. How is it that everyone instinctively knows I love a tease?
Dear Rog, you are so tactful. It was barely and briefly mentioned yesterday. I rely on you and Mrs Rine and the most important members of the family.
Heat my own bedroom. D’oh.
Well it’s probably just as well we can’t hear what’s going on in your bedroom.
Discretion reigns, AQ.
We borrowed some sheep and an electric fence a few years back but the electric fence broke in the night and in the morning the two younger ewes were well and truly tangled up. The older pair were grazing peacefully in the flower bed. Our friends, who owned the sheep, took them home and never got their fence fixed so we didn’t try it again.