It has been a glorious week here. The sun has shone from sun up to sun down, and the girls have grumbled about the heat and hidden in the shrubbery. The air has been filled with the sound of children playing, dogs barking, grumpy hens and the entire fly population of western Europe. Oh yes, chicken poo is apparently haute cuisine for blue bottles. Yuck.
Obviously, this cannot continue. I have been spraying diluted citronella essential oil around the garden like a demented...well, chicken keeper. The hens watch with amusement as I slowly make my way across the lawn, sweeping up their little presents with my dust pan and brush, and watering in the runny ones. I do this at least three times a day. Usually, I am followed by the chooks, who are keen to observe my antics in case I have food. In the course of our tortuously slow progress, they inevitably have to poo a bit. Chicken faeces has become a major talking point in this house.
On the plus side, these measures seem to have helped a good bit. There has been a definite reduction on the insect activity front. Also, the lawn looks fabulous, which I am putting down to all the free and fresh manure.
Oh, and Mini has been in the broody cage, and has now rejoined her flock mates. Just in time to add to the manure mountain.
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