Harlequin is my codename for Chicky, on the basis that he she or it is being raised by Columbine and he she or it has a harlequin pattern to the feathers which are emerging. That’ll be the silver-lace father, of course, but there’s a lot of red to the chick, so it’ll be fascinating to see the mature bird (fingers crossed, of course).
Chicky/Harlequin has taken to playing piggy-back with mum. Her Maj reported yesterday that she’d been down to say hello at the maternity ward and found Chicky/Harlequin sitting on Columbine’s back and peeking bravely around her head at the visitor. Apparently Chicky/Harlequin was pecking her beak from time to time as well – no doubt some knowledgeable reader will be able to enlighten us why that would be.
A gorgeous day yesterday and a shame to be stuck in the office all day instead of being out and about. Back in the evening to tackle the silage that the lawn had become and managed to do about two-thirds of it before tiredness and boredom set in. It’s a three-hour job, cutting all of the grass, and I’ve left another hour’s worth for tonight. The morning light outside the window as I write is stunning and it looks like a glorious day ahead. At least I’m not stuck in the office all day today with a visit out later this morning, but preparation for meetings all afternoon.
Gertie continues to brood with great patience and even Priscilla is getting into the act, making a nest in the other goose-pen. I’m not going to let her sit because she is an erratic broody and we can’t really support a much larger flock of geese on this land. I know, we could eat some of them, but personally I don’t have the heart to eat animals to whom I’ve given names. Now, maybe that was the reason I named them in the first place?