After a long drive back from Somerset today, arrived home at The Chookery about two o’clock. The chooks were out and about taking an interest in my unloading the car and appeared pleased to see me. First job, therefore, after unloading – before even a cup of tea – was to give them some grain and go and see the state of the coop. All chooks very pleased with the grain, as were the geese, and I found a dozen eggs in the nesting boxes in the coop. Not a bad crop for a week or so, I thought. I then cleaned out the shavings inside the coop (a long overdue task) and found another eighteen eggs had been laid in the many body of the kirk. Unfortunately, having no idea how old these could possibly be, I felt I had, reluctantly, to discard them. I will need to make sure I check the coop out as well as the nesting boxes every couple of days and discover whether I have a dissident hen among the chooks.
Other news is that my neighbour has rescued a feral kitten from the local estate, which he thinks could be half wildcat. I haven’t seen this marvellous beast yet, but am looking forward to being introduced. It’s very timid and fearful of people, so could well have wildcat in it as well as domestic. The thought is that it is about eight weeks old.
A short post today, which I shall blame on the drive from Somerset. Although it took me only nine hours to get up here, it did involve getting up at four o’clock this morning and the creative juices have gotten too viscous for literary invention on the grand scale.
Missing the Queen of the Chooks already, but I’ll be down for the pantomime at the end of next week and she’ll be up at half-term with my own little clutch of chickadees.