Well the people at the farm certainly weren’t stretching the truth when they said Maran and Flight were point of lay because yesterday afternoon Maran laid her very first egg, just four days after being here. And how proud was she? Lordy. The peaceful, summer afternoon was shattered by her piercing announcement of the event, shouted out in the loudest chicken speak imaginable. And of course, Flight was so massively impressed that she had to join in as well.
I was there at the moment of nesting and egg dropping. Well, I am the proud mum after all and she may have found herself in difficulties and I’d have had to boil water and rip up petticoats and such like …or is that just for childbirth portrayed in ancient films?
The egg is a perfect first effort, small and perfectly formed. I have to admit to actually being quite fond of Maran already. She may launch the odd sword-like thrust at Flight, now and then, but she is the sweetest chuck and lets me stroke her and feed her by hand …but then, so does Flight. I’m really happy with the way they are settling in. Of course Dust still has them both firmly on her agenda and thinks nothing of running the length of the lawn to attack them. As I said before – baby steps. Rome wasn’t built in a day and bonds won’t form immediately either.
My brother called in yesterday afternoon and we sat on the lawn next to the pond chatting away. Suddenly Chea appeared and launched herself into the shrubbery and a frog leapt out. She was most interested, never having come across such a slimy creature before and jumped on it. I shrieked and demanded that my brother move the frog before it was murdered by Chea and she took a nibble of it and started manically salivating again. He just looked at me like I’d suggested he catch a sabre toothed tiger with his bare hands and I had to grab Chea from off the top of the frog, with my eyes shut, and go and put her in the house.
This is the same unsupportive brother that I was moaning about yesterday for not downloading my books. The same brother who shares one teabag between two mugs. Well I got my own back on him for that because that’s exactly what I did. Two mugs. One teabag. Ha ha. And I had the first swish and squeezing. His tea looked like dish water. That’ll teach him to mess with his big sister.
Back to the subject of frogs. I noticed, a couple of days ago, that the tadpoles are now baby frog-lets and no bigger than my small finger nail. They hop precariously around the edge of the pond and I fear that one or two may well get taken by the chucks if their paths inadvertently cross. It’s a real battle of life and death in my garden! The balance can tip from heaven to hell in the blinking of an eye.
The garden produce is doing exceptionally well. The blackcurrant are now ripening, so I figure it is sugar buying time. I’m going to make jam this year. Last year it was wine. This year it’s jam – quite a lot of jam – looking at the potential yield that is weighing down the bushes almost to ground level.
The strawberries are also doing well. I saw a lovely strawberry flan thing on my blogging friend’s site, so I’ve bought the flan base and some good old reliable quick gel and I’m going to throw a few ripe strawberries into that – in time for the arrival of the wrecking crew (grandchildren) in the morning. I’m sure it will be met with disappointed faces because it won’t be chocolate. And I’m also sure that Richard – out of the kindness of his heart – will manage to polish it off in a couple of sittings.
Right my little poppets, I must dash, I have a busy day today and you know what they say – time and tide wait for no man (or woman). Have a super-duper weekend and remember – always turn to face the sun and shadow will always fall behind you.
Take care my lovelies x