We're back from our wanderings, and I'm pleased to report that Doris seems to be on the mend. The spot has vanished and the inflammation looks like it's on the retreat. So a collective sigh of relief all round. My heroic chicken sitter managed to administer all of the medicine without serious incident so I will be delivering a bottle of wine to her door with copious amounts of grovelling thanks. Hopefully she hasn't been put off for life.
The Palace stood firm in the face of extreme gales the night we left, for which I am eternally grateful. I can just imagine the ever tolerant husband's face if we came home to a pile of very expensive timber. My chicken sitter came to check on the girls early the next morning and confessed that she was apprehensive about what she would find, the wind was that strong. The hens were apparently unmoved by the whole experience and just demanded raisins. Typical of them, really.
The temperature has plummeted over the last few days and this morning we awoke to a thick frost. Pekins are not generally happy about cold/wet conditions, so when released this morning they hopped from one foot to the other across the lawn to the relative comfort of the sunny patio. The lawn gets a break over the winter from chickenny attentions, but the patio takes a beating. I am not looking forward to chiselling rock hard poultry poo from the slabs before the ever tolerant husband gets home.
All in all, it's good to be home.