Rose and I took the three young cockerels to the farm to be despatched, a few weeks ago. I’m not sure if I mentioned it, we were very upset but it was my fault for keeping them too long. They were lovely birds, but one of them went for Jenga, their father, who is coming up for five years old now and Jenga came off worse. Jenga is Rose’s pet and he has to come first; besides which, the Sage’s rule was that, when you needed a new cockerel, you brought in a fresh bloodline. So the boys had to go.
David and Jo looked dismayed, they are terribly busy during the lockdown. But they’re also immensely kind and said they’d deal with the cocks. Today, Rose went to shop at the farm and talked to Jo – the lads are alive and well and happy with their clusters of wives. Jo and David didn’t have time to despatch them on that day, so just let them out and, well, it drifted. When they did have time, they didn’t have the heart because everyhen was happy.
Beautiful weather again today and I’ve been quite energetic in the garden. As a result, I’m too tired to think now and I’ll go to bed soon. Which is absurd, it’s only quarter to nine, but I’ve been awake since four-something this morning and that’s absurd too. I believe that, the busier I am, the better I’ll sleep but that just shows I don’t learn from experience.
Tim and I have been telling each other shaggy dog stories. As long as we can still giggle…..