A change of pace

Right, it might be worth checking that you have a few minutes spare.  After a very few days, the week ended with death, a pyre and "a first". I also managed to come up with several unexpected words today ... none of which, were expletives.

So let's make a start.

The chickens have started to lay reasonable well over the past six weeks. We generally get two or three eggs each day, and, on one occasion, a full half dozen. These are the rich dark brown eggs of the Marans and the pinky tinted offerings from the Norfolk Greys.

You will note that the Crested Cream Legbars have yet to make a contribution. I have noticed that the comb and wattles of the Legbars have started to colour up nicely. This is a sure sign that they are about to come in to lay, but nothing ... up until this morning.

When I checked the nest boxes this morning I was delighted to see a lovely pale blue egg nestling in the sawdust. The Legbars have finally started to earn their keep.*

With a couple of dozen eggs being laid each week we are now starting to sell our surplus to our friends and acquaintances.  30% has already got pre-orders for a dozen each week. I think her friends will be delighted with boxes of multicoloured eggs.

Now on to the death. I am afraid that the local grey squirrel population has been reduce by one. I managed to pot one that was raiding the bird feeders this morning.

I know some people think they are a charming garden visitor, but they are classed as a pest, known to predate birds nest for eggs and chicks. I'm not a fan and would rather see the birds than bloody tree rats.

Now on to the pyre.  Having stacked the logs from the felled Norway Spruce, I was hoping that the large piles of brash would magically disappear ... or that 30% would step up to the mark. Unfortunately neither wife nor witchcraft has had impact in the orchard, so I headed up there with matches and a firefighter.

I soon had a decent fire burning and spent the morning loading it with conifer brash. It burnt beautifully and, by lunchtime, with assistance from 30%, we had reduced it all to a pile of hot embers in our burner.  It was incredibly rewarding to have finally finished dealing with the tree.

Final observation was that today's lexicon had a number of unexpected entries. Etiolated, coprolite, kibblecrete and hat bound were all heard uttered at some point today.

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* The Legbars hatched on 11th August 2024, so they're just about six months old now.

Glossary

Coprolite: fossilised excrement. Don't ask!

Etiolated: The sickly pale grass uncovered as we dealt with the piles of brash

Hat bound: The tight feeling around the scalp after wearing a snug beanie hat. It can only be alleviated by vigorous scratching.

Kibblecrete: A solid concretion of dog kibble resulting from an experiment. I wondered if adding heated meat jelly might make the kibble more appetising.