The young chickens made 10 weeks today. We have noticed a couple of times, that they sometimes square up to each other, chest to chest, cowl feathers (hackles) raised. My chums on the poultry forum ( Fowl.ie ) tell me that this is a sure sign that they are males, so the stock pot may be looming for them, but cousin Win and I are still holding out hope that they will turn out to be gals, and can join the egg laying team. If it's the stock pot for them, then we have hopes that in the Spring, Broody Betty will do it all again and this time we'll know how to manage her properly (12 eggs into the clutch all at once, for a start!).
Here is another pic of the rabbits - the three 'babies' are in the middle, though you can see that they are now as big as our own buck, Rogers (on the right in this shot). These blighters all escaped the run today and we were out there in wellies with torches trying to round them up in the dark. Luckily, when threatened out loose by a roving human their natural reaction is to head home, often using (and giving away the location of) the hole out of which they have escaped.
And so to our own celebration of the end of what's been a brilliant year for us, including gutting and rebuilding the house, starting on the garden, hosting a few visitors and getting our roots down a bit in this far flung place. We have dined on steak (a lovely T-bone from our lamb-butcher, Ignatius Gannon), oven chips, peas and mushrooms, we have drunk some nice Rioja and we are now chilling in our lovely toasty warm Living Room in front of the real fire, chatting, reading books and wondering whether we'll bother to watch the Crosby/Astaire movie "Holiday Inn" to keep us awake till midnight (we may not need the movie). At midnight we will listen to a countdown on local radio and then stick our heads out and shout "Happy New Year" across the front lawn into the inky blackness. We will not expect any reply or any fireworks. We will then do the 'First Foot' thing with coal or turf, Greek fire-water, salt, a slice of bread or cake and a €1 coin to cover all the bases.
1 comment:
Keep blogging, Mr Care, I love reading it. With lots of love from Darkest Kent
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