It's that time again. The nights are drawing in. My hens go to roost earlier each night, and if I'm late in getting to the bottom of the garden to shut them in, it's already dark - and it's only 8pm.
We're down to three hens at the moment. One of the speckeldy's died 25th August. I'd spotted her going downhill on the Thursday, usual signs, mucky back end, listlessness, isolating behaviour. But the timing of helping them on their way is never easy, and I'd given her a day too long, and we had guests that weekend, so finding an appropriate moment to do the deed was going to be difficult, and when I let them out on the Sunday, she'd died in the night. At least she was with her friends, and although it saved me from a task which I am prepared to do, but don't enjoy, I still felt sorry to see her go.
Now when I let them out in the morning there's a chill in the air. No more wandering down the garden in my pyjamas, crocs and cotton dressing gown... there's an image to wrestle with in your mind now! No. Now it's time for the fleecy dressing gown. And anorak over that if it's raining. And wellies if the weather's dire. And I have been known in snow to put salopettes and ski jacket on over my pj's, and team that up with my snowboots to boot.
There's still a glut of apples in the garden, but the blackberries round and about have gone over. Last week when I was walking the dog I didn't have any containers to pick blackberries into. I have, on the odd occasion, used dog poop bags (clean of course!), but kept promising myself I'd bring a container and do it properly. Too late.
This morning the blackberries were soggy. Not just from the recent rainfall, but from over-ripeness. They burst upon touching them, and were somehow reluctant to yield, to give in and let me pick them. How then to describe the clumps of them, the clusters, bunches, branches, droplets, drooplets, danglers, jam-jars brambles of them? Sadly too late to now to bring in the bounty, they've turned mildewy, and gone mouldy with their lushness....
Still, the spiders were the ones to benefit. More cobwebs than I've seen for a while, and although the wasps weren't buzzing, they were feasting, and close by them were the flies, disturbed by my reaching hand.. no rich pickings for me this time. I've had my lot, and safely banked it in the freezer.
TTFN. Kat :)
We're down to three hens at the moment. One of the speckeldy's died 25th August. I'd spotted her going downhill on the Thursday, usual signs, mucky back end, listlessness, isolating behaviour. But the timing of helping them on their way is never easy, and I'd given her a day too long, and we had guests that weekend, so finding an appropriate moment to do the deed was going to be difficult, and when I let them out on the Sunday, she'd died in the night. At least she was with her friends, and although it saved me from a task which I am prepared to do, but don't enjoy, I still felt sorry to see her go.
Now when I let them out in the morning there's a chill in the air. No more wandering down the garden in my pyjamas, crocs and cotton dressing gown... there's an image to wrestle with in your mind now! No. Now it's time for the fleecy dressing gown. And anorak over that if it's raining. And wellies if the weather's dire. And I have been known in snow to put salopettes and ski jacket on over my pj's, and team that up with my snowboots to boot.
There's still a glut of apples in the garden, but the blackberries round and about have gone over. Last week when I was walking the dog I didn't have any containers to pick blackberries into. I have, on the odd occasion, used dog poop bags (clean of course!), but kept promising myself I'd bring a container and do it properly. Too late.
This morning the blackberries were soggy. Not just from the recent rainfall, but from over-ripeness. They burst upon touching them, and were somehow reluctant to yield, to give in and let me pick them. How then to describe the clumps of them, the clusters, bunches, branches, droplets, drooplets, danglers, jam-jars brambles of them? Sadly too late to now to bring in the bounty, they've turned mildewy, and gone mouldy with their lushness....
Still, the spiders were the ones to benefit. More cobwebs than I've seen for a while, and although the wasps weren't buzzing, they were feasting, and close by them were the flies, disturbed by my reaching hand.. no rich pickings for me this time. I've had my lot, and safely banked it in the freezer.
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| Pegasus, Woking |
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