So, I have returned empty handed. Despite my best efforts to encourage the ever tolerant husband to make a very circuitous trip up and down the country, in the end it was deemed an inconvenience too far. As we made our way up the M1 I had to concede that he was right. I hate it when he's right. Humph. The breeder was indifferent to my angst, luckily.
I now find myself set up for newbies with no actual newbies. Odd. Not to be deterred, I have contacted a much more local breeder and am obsessively refreshing my inbox waiting for a reply. I am determined to see a serama in the flesh before the end of the week.
The girls were looked after by my fabulous chicken sitting friend, so barely noticed my absence. However, I don't allow them to free range when I'm not here so they were a bit more appreciative of my presence this morning. Much chuntering and clucking ensued though when they realise we'd had a heavy frost. As they crunched across the crisp lawn I suspect we were all thinking the same thing: roll on summer.
Hilda spent a happy few minutes ice skating on the bird bath much to my amusement. Maeve was unimpressed by the frozen earth, and her attempt to beautify herself with a dust bath was a non-starter. As she flapped about on the ground I admit to sniggering a bit. She stopped her break dancing for a moment and fixed me with an ASBO glare. I thought it best to retreat and leave her to it.
No change there, then.
Monday, 31 January 2011
Thursday, 27 January 2011
Just In Case
The ever tolerant husband is staying quiet when I oh-so-casually mention the serama plan. He has looked up the breeder's address and worked out a route without comment. I have left pics of the potential new girls on the laptop to see if he'll pass comment, but he doesnt. I think I've finally done it. I have broken him.
Not that I'm definitely going to get the serama, you understand. I mean, it makes sense to clean out the pet carrier and disinfect it. You never know when it might be needed. Similairly with the spare feeder and drinker. Keeping things hygienic is a good idea, generally. And the hospital wing hasn't been swept clean since Doris spent some time there. So naturally that needs a full clean out and scrub. Also, I've been meaning to replace the bulb in the heatlamp for ages. It doesn't actually mean anything. Honest.
The garage has gone from well organised chaos to, well, just chaos over the winter. I'm not quite sure when or how it happened, but it's like a junk yard in there. So tomorrow I might possibly spend some time trying to organise it a bit. Just to make access easier and the environment safer. In case any of the birds end up living in there for any reason.
You know, it's good to be prepared.....
Not that I'm definitely going to get the serama, you understand. I mean, it makes sense to clean out the pet carrier and disinfect it. You never know when it might be needed. Similairly with the spare feeder and drinker. Keeping things hygienic is a good idea, generally. And the hospital wing hasn't been swept clean since Doris spent some time there. So naturally that needs a full clean out and scrub. Also, I've been meaning to replace the bulb in the heatlamp for ages. It doesn't actually mean anything. Honest.
The garage has gone from well organised chaos to, well, just chaos over the winter. I'm not quite sure when or how it happened, but it's like a junk yard in there. So tomorrow I might possibly spend some time trying to organise it a bit. Just to make access easier and the environment safer. In case any of the birds end up living in there for any reason.
You know, it's good to be prepared.....
Tuesday, 25 January 2011
How The Garden War Progresses
Well, to be honest, it's going ok. After the initial installation of the Barrier, Maude achieved vertical take off and landed straight on the ornamental curly grass. With a firm hand, I removed her and plonked her back down on the lawn side. There was much chattering about this development and disgusted strutting. However, so far, no one else has attempted to trespass. Hmmm.
Perhaps I've been looking in to the psyche's of my hens for too long, but I can't help feeling that they're just biding their time. They have taken to patrolling the Barrier while throwing surreptitious glances back towards the house. Something is probably, maybe, almost certainly up. Every time I look out of the window I expect to find eight feathery vandals tossing bulbs hither and thither with glee. It will almost be a relief when it happens at this stage. This compliance is unnervingly out of character.
Just to prove that they haven't gone completely soft, there was a concerted effort to murder one of the rose bushes yesterday. A team effort of digging around the base left it leaning in a most alarming manner. The guerrila gardeners watched with interest as I firmed it back down all the while swearing like Mutley. Perhaps they are running interference. Or trying out new torture techniques. Either way, my reaction probably means that it mill happen again. I am seriously considering making chicken guards from chicken wire to prevent the little madams from scratching up my favourite plants.
In other news, I have to make a decision about the serama by friday. I am still torn between really, really wanting them and being nervous of rocking the boat. I adore my pekins, and the silkie experiment did not end well. The ever tolerant husband just rollls his eyes when I prattle on about flock integration, and he was most ungentleman-like when I asked him if he thought the heat lamp could be threaded through to the Palace at 2am the other morning. To be fair, he migt have a point on that one.
We shall see.
Perhaps I've been looking in to the psyche's of my hens for too long, but I can't help feeling that they're just biding their time. They have taken to patrolling the Barrier while throwing surreptitious glances back towards the house. Something is probably, maybe, almost certainly up. Every time I look out of the window I expect to find eight feathery vandals tossing bulbs hither and thither with glee. It will almost be a relief when it happens at this stage. This compliance is unnervingly out of character.
Just to prove that they haven't gone completely soft, there was a concerted effort to murder one of the rose bushes yesterday. A team effort of digging around the base left it leaning in a most alarming manner. The guerrila gardeners watched with interest as I firmed it back down all the while swearing like Mutley. Perhaps they are running interference. Or trying out new torture techniques. Either way, my reaction probably means that it mill happen again. I am seriously considering making chicken guards from chicken wire to prevent the little madams from scratching up my favourite plants.
In other news, I have to make a decision about the serama by friday. I am still torn between really, really wanting them and being nervous of rocking the boat. I adore my pekins, and the silkie experiment did not end well. The ever tolerant husband just rollls his eyes when I prattle on about flock integration, and he was most ungentleman-like when I asked him if he thought the heat lamp could be threaded through to the Palace at 2am the other morning. To be fair, he migt have a point on that one.
We shall see.
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