Funny, again I haven’t wanted to write this journal for a few days. Is it because I’m leaving soon that my mind is on other things? Or is it that the routine of life here is not stimulating me to write? All I know is that when I looked at the handheld I just didn’t have the urge or will to write in it.
Still, some stuff has happened. The young chickens have again been on the move. You’ll remember on the 11th they were released from their little chicken runs and allowed to roam around the paddock but after spending a good hour at the end of the day trying to get some of them safely shut away from the fox M decided this was not such a good idea. This morning a new plan. My big chicken house is finally going to be used for chickens and we moved in five of them. At first I was using a piece of wood to corner them towards M but her arms weren’t long enough so she asked me to grab them. This was the first time I’d had to physically handle the birds but jumping on sheep hadn’t been so bad so I went for it, grabbing them by the leg so M could pick them up. As with the ducklings before them the chicks stuck together in a block, uncertain about the concept of not existing in a single square metre of space, but eventually they spread out. Tomorrow will be interesting as we mix in more chicks from different mothers. Will they fight? Most certainly, but hopefully with no major casualties.
The main impetus for not mixing the chicks with the older generation of chickens is the ever present threat of the fox. I’ve seen the fox from my caravan window twice now. The first time I thought it was Saffy, the hunter cat, but the colour was slightly too dark. I went out and chased it away, although to be honest this consisted of making my presence known causing the fox to dart away across the field. The nest time I saw it in the freshly cut hay field presumably hunting the wild birds feeding on grass seeds scattered by the harvest. There are a few remains about the place – pairs of wings with the body missing looking like they’ve been left there by very small angels. Both these visits were in the middle of the day and within 20 metres of the farmyard, which is a worry. M says she had 20 chickens a few months back and now there’s just nine, most of them being cockrells, which is annoying as they don’t lay eggs, being male and all. It also means the balance is wrong with too many cocks fighting over an ever decreasing pool of hens. So the new lot will be kept penned up. And now you know why free range eggs are more expensive (and not strictly “free range”).