Saturday and Sunday

The whirlwhind that is Small Person has just left.

One night turned into two.  She hinted during the day that it would be better if she could stay over on Saturday night as well, so I checked with her mum without her knowing.    Later, when we were taling about what to make for pudding,  I said that if we were going to make chocolated steamed pudding, she'd probably need to stay, and suggested she checked with her mum to see if that might be OK. 

She had a class in the morning, so I dropped her just before 10, and picked her up again at 1.  We spent the afternoon playing with chickens,   raking up apples (she was excited to use her new garden tools, and that sort of stuff).  

We did a lot of picky-uppy.  Catch a chook, pick it up, give it a single mealworm, put it down.  Lather, rinse, repeat.    The Girls got a bit fed up of picky uppy, and went into the run.  I could easily have caught the from there, but decided that was them saying "enough now".

It was the Firefly 15th Anniversary marathon on SyFy,  so we went indoors at about 3.30 pm and watched the first (double episode), fast forwarding through the adverts.  We stopped so I could cook dinner,  had dinner,  watched more Firefly.  And more firefly.  And then watched an episode of Taskmaster, which she seems to love.  I think she loves it because it's on late, because it's an adult programme,  and because it makes us laugh.

She insisted that I wake her up to let the chooks out, so that's what  I did at 7.30 this morning.  

We let the chooks out. Bertie pecked one of the poor girls on the head,  so we opened their run doors too so the girls could escape him if they needed to.

He chased them a bit and then, unexpectedly,  did a fleeting cockerel dance.  It was just a quarter turn, very quick, and then he was back to being bossy Bertie.     I guess we'll see more of that over the coming days.

The big girls are eating from the feeder, which is wedged open.  They aren't feeding from it at the same time as Bertie, and that's an issue.    We need them to be confident eating at the same time as him so we can close it. They will learn how to open it from him.  

It's only been a couple of days,  but it feels like daaaaaaaayyyyyyyss.

SP asked me if I missed Sherbet and Fizz.   I replied, honestly,  not any more.
She was a little shocked, and wanted to understand why I didn't miss them.  I tried to explain.

She asked if the breeder would kill them.   We'd already discussed this, and I told her exactly that. "But why can't he just keep them separately?" she demanded.    I explained, again.   I reminded her that Sherbert and Fizz would have been culled much younger, if the breeder had known they were boys. "But why?"she demanded.    She definitely knows the answer to this, and I realised that she was just in one of those being awkward moods, and she was a bit cross with me for no longer missing the boys.

I didn't rise to it,  and all was well a few minutes later.

Her Dad arrived bang on time at 8.45, and she dragged him outside to meet the new girls.

I'm off outside now to play picky uppy.

Saturday

Small Person arrived last night for an overnighter.   She was excited to meet the new girls, and straightaway commented that they looked like Siouxsie.  She's been comparing them ever since.

No major dramas at bedtime yesterday, apart from me forgetting to open the pop hole to let them go up to bed.  Once that was resolved, they all went up and stayed up.  Small Person noticed that Bertie was pecking the new girls a bit, but it wasn't vicious.

Small Person fell asleep on the sofa at 9pm. It made me chuckle as not 5 minutes before she'd been telling me how she has trouble getting to sleep at night,  I know this is true because she often sends me messages trying to chat.       We left her asleep until we went to bed at 10pm.

This morning, she was only just awake at 9am. This also made me laugh as one the reasons we're having her to stay is so her mum can have a much needed lie in today.

No dramas when I opened the youngsters pop hole at 7.30 this morning.   I've seen one of them use the feeder, but not at the same time as Bertie.  It'll have to stay wedged open until I've seen them eat together.

After I'd dropped Small Person off at her morning activity,  I came home and played picky uppy with the new girls.  Neither of them liked being picky-upped,  one even less so than the other.  Even mealworms didn't really do it for them.    So I sat on the bench, made clucking noises, and threw Garvo in their general direction.

Bertie is refusing to be caught and refusing to fly up on to my arm,  so I went and did some training with the Big Girls instead.  Gloria, Poppy and Sasha all now fly up on my arm quite happily.   Fay, who could do it if she wanted to,  still refuses,    and Fleur still doesn't understand what to do.   Poor Fleur is still moulting very badly,  so  I don't want to push her too much.

I've come in for a break.  I'll go back out again in an hour or so.

Friday - Late Afternoon

It was all going so well. They were mopching around together, eating grass. Sitting together. All looked serene.

And then I showed one of the girls where the food was in the treadle feeder.  Bertie took great exception to this, and pecked her really, REALLY hard on the back of the head.

I shut the horrible little man out of the whole area, then shut the girls in the run to give them a chance to eat.

Grrrrrrr!

Friday - Lunchtime

Things are improving

Friday morning

I was awake at 5, and lay there listening for sounds of squabbling.   It gradually got light, still no sounds,  so I left them alone.  At 7, I finally got up and went and opened the pop hole.

No one came out.

I walked to the other side of the garden and opened the pop hole for the Big Girls.  No one came out. I was earlier than normal, and caught them unawares.

Eventually, Bertie came down the ladder, but the Newbies did not.  I watched for a while,  and then decided I'd better check all was OK.  I shut the pop hole,  opened the door at the back and picked up one girl. The other escaped.  I stroked the girl in my arms (such soft feathers!), and put her on the ground.

Bertie lunged at them.

I recaught the two girls and shut them in the run (shutting Bertie out).  I opened the netting so Bertie could go off exploring,  and that's what he did.

The Newbies ate and drank.  Bertie decided to go and explore the Big Girls run (the Big Girls were still shut in their covered run at this point).   I closed off his netting so he couldn't get back in,  and I opened the run doors so the Newbies could explore their paddock.

I went and had a shower, did some Domestics,  helped DH with his shower, did my mail, that sort of thing.  I went out to chat to them all.  While I was there, one of the Newbies raised the alarm.  Bertie ran over to them (still on the outside of the netting). 

Wash sauntered up the path.  I stroked him and told them all that Washy was a friend (like they could understand me, of course).

I then opened the netting so Bertie could get back in.  I stood in with them for a few moments,  and the came inside to make breakfast.

It's going to be an interesting day.

Thursday

Busy day today.    Up very early to get ready to go to ExCel.   If we cut across London, it would be less than 30 miles,  but TomTom and my phone's software both say to go round the M25 and in on the M11, 70 miles.

It was a slow start with lots of hold ups.  It took an hour and three quarters, probably not bad for the time of day,  and was straightforward.  I had to deliver something I'd sold to a place next door to ExCel, and then we carried on.

The Great British Sewing Bee was interesting.  Fairly small,  but a pleasant wander around.  We didn't watch any of the theatre shows or challenges, whih I guess was a bit of a shame,  mainly because I'd arranged another appointment later in the afternoon so we had to Get On.

I did call in at the SureFit Designs stand and topped up on vellum.   I really hope Judith does well there,  she's put so much work in to getting the UK arm up and running.

We left at about 12,  continued round the other side of the M25, and arrived at our next destination a little after 1.30.  And there we picked up 2 young Dorking pullets.  They are young girls, but very big.   When I put them in the carrier, I was hoping that the don't intimidate Bertie too much.

We chatted with the lady for some time, and didn't actually leave there until about 2.15.  We were home by 3,  and I popped the Girls in Bertie's coop.   I opened the door for them almost immediately, but they didn't want to come out.

A bit later, I went out with mealworms for everyone, and they made an appearance.  Bertie seemed not to have noticed them.  He continued seeming to have not noticed them for some time,    nibbling grass around the run and not noticing anything amiss.

He casually started crowing.And then suddenly, he went for them.

I was a bit shocked.

He chased one around the garden..  Not in an excited young cockerel way,  in a "F off out of my space" way.   I stepped in.

I suppose he's been living with 2 other young lads for the last 4 weeks,  and was bottom of the pecking order.  He's presumably staking his claim early.  The two girls, whilst much bigger than him, are trying to take in their new surroundings and are a bit nervous,  so didn't retaliate.  



I should have waited until tonight and just popped them all together in the coop, but I didn't like the tought of them all being shut in, just in case there was trouble.  However,  I had been so focused on worrying about whether he'd get bullied by 2 girls, that it didn't occur to me that he might bully them.

It's pouring with rain now, and I'm watching them carefully.

The girls are big versions of Siouxsie Sioux. I'll post some pictures tomorrow.

Wednesday

More attempts at cockadilling from Bertie.       He's been mooching round the garden all day, and flatly refusing to be picked up.   I managed to get him once, and rewarded him with mealworms.... he still refused to be caught later.

Today's personal highlight was a planned massage.  The lady who does it works wonders, and I it makes a real difference to my circulation and to my various cricks and crooks.    It was planned for the middle of the day, which means the rest of the day was planned to be a bit of a wipeout while I emjoyed the results.

I wanted to go to Costco as they have an offer on a Vacuum sealer.  We don't need a new one, but the one on offer has some helpful features which our current one does not.  The main feature is the ability to force it to do the vacuuming, rather than have it automatically triggered when the bag is pushed in. We have to waste a lot of bag space because of this,  and often have had to use a bigger bag than really necessary.

I've been meaning to go for 2 and a half weeks,  but I kept putting it off.   It was today, or miss the offer (it's not available online, they onl have some bottom of the range model available online).  (Tomorrow and Friday I have other appointments,  and I never visit Costco at the weekend unless it's an emergency.  Saving money on a Vacuum sealer that I don't strictly need isn't an emergency).

I have to drop DH at his friend's house this evening, so I thought I'd go to Costco then. At least I'd have had a few hours of post-massage floatiness.

And then my poor therapist contacted me to say she wasn't well.

So, I did the Costco trip.  I managed to not buy a breadmaker we don't need (although I am thinking of  going back to get it).  It was an OK trip.

Unrelated to Costco, I've also arranged to collect two hens tomorrow afternoon.   I can't get them today because I don't want them all shut in the small run while I'm not there to keep an eye on things.

Tuesday

I opened Bertie's (I'm changing Herb's name) pop hole and he came rushing out, down the ladder, and stuck his head in the feeder.    I opened the door to the Run, something I don't usually do for at least an hour,  so that he could get out an dmooch around.

It was quite a log time before he stopped scratching around.  He roosted on the back of the child-sized bench and, for the first time,  looked a bit...... lonely.

I went out with mealworms.

Then I decided to leave the entrance to his netted area open, so he could wander rounfd the garden. And maybe say "Helloooo" to the Girls.

Some time later, he hadn't worked out that there was an opening,  so I went in and out a couple of times, trailing treats.  He got the hang of it, and spent the next few hours wandering around and eating, popping back to his own space every so often.

Part way through the day I gave him, and the Girls, some mealworms.  Right on the edge of the Girls' fenceline.   They ignored him, and he ignored them - or he appeared to.  I suppose I was secretly hoping that he might get adopted by them,  with the Grls accepting him because he was a Lad.

I'm hoping having the freedom of the garden will take his mind of being an Only Chook.

I'm still looking for suitable (and unsuitable) companions.  I don't really want to get any until Thursday evening or Friday.     I've found some, but they are a  3 hour round trip, which means Thursday is out,  Friday and Saturday are looking unlikely.  I did find myself thinking "oh, just go tomorrow.  They'll be alright together in Thursday".    Common Sense prevailed.   Even if they did turn out to be alright,  I'd still be stressing about it all day Thursday.

I'll keep looking.

Monday happened

Small Person arrived after school to say goodbye to Fizz ("and maybe Sherbert too").

The breeder arrived on time, and we went out to catch the two Legcanas. Small Person helped. 

We chatted while we inspected the birds.  He wasn't sure, but felt it most likely that both of them were boys, and he took took both of them away.   We put them in a box in his car,  and chatted some more.

Back in the run, Herb was wandering about.   He took himself to bed at bedtime.

I continued looking for suitable girls, and failed.  I might have to get some unsuitable ones.

More questions

I told SmallPerson and her Mum yesterday (Sunday) that Fizz's breeder had rescheduled for today Monday).  I knew she would be wondering what happened.    I also asked her Mum whether SP might want to come and say goodbye to Fizz on Monday.  I didn't ask SP directly, as I wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing to suggest.

SP's mum asked her,  and she said she'd like to say goodbye.  All being well. they'll come over after school, before the breeder arrives.

Last night, SP messaged me.  "Are you going to miss Fizz?"

I don't know whether SP was genuinely wondering if I would miss Fizz,  or if she was thinking about how she felt.  Maybe both.  

I'd miss Fiz for a while.

"And maybe Sherb" she added, while I was typing my furst answer.

Again, I replied honestly.  That I'd miss Sherb a bit more than Fizz because (a) Sherb was friendlier than Fizz,  and (b) I'd had a few days to get used to the idea of Fizz being a boy but I was still hoping Sherb was a girl

She had obviously been considering the implications of one of them being a boy or both of them being a boy.  Some weeks previously, we'd had conversations when we first got them, about what we would do if Herb was a girl, and what we'd do if Fizz or Sherbert was a boy,  back when we didn't know.  She wanted to know what would happen because she knows that we wouldn't take Herb to the allotment on his own.

I explained that we'd probably have to get 2 more young girls to put with Herb until he was old enough to meet the Old Ladies.     I smiled at her response,  Can I help train them?

She questioned me further, with her usual disaster planning head on.  What if we couldn't get any chicks?  How old did they need to be?     And so on.

I've shared my plans with her, and I'm anticipating more questions today as she digests what I've told her.




 

And the winner is...

Fizzbert.

Fizz.  The chook without the fluffy face.

We've seen him crow a number of times now, it's definitely him.   We're unsure about Sherbert.

I messaged Small Person to tell her the bad news, and we had a little chat about it.
 
               We know who's crowing It's Fizz
                                   "Are you going to cull  Fizz?"  
                I'm going to see if I can rehome him. If not he'll go back to the breeder"
                                  "When?"
                                 "Will I get to see Fizz again?"

                 The breeder is coming on Sunday to see if he can tell whether Sherbert is also a boy.   If
                 I haven't found a home for Fizz, the breeder will take him with him. |

                  I've messaged someone about rehoming Fizz, but I haven't heard back yet.


Truth is, she probably won't get to see him before he goes,  and that might be for the best.     I'm glad that we'd already had a discussion about what we'd do if one of them turned out to be a boy, so it isn't a shock for her.

I didn't want her to arrive next week and find out it had happened and we hadn't told her.

Silence

And of course now we're looking for it,  and I have the camera charged and ready to go,  there's no cockadiddling at all. Not from anyone. Not for 2 days.

Steps forwardfor some, and steps downhill for others

DH showered by himself today. First time in 10 weeks. 

For me, it was odd (and I was  a little sad actually) to be showering on my own again. It is, however, another small step forward in his recovery.

Later, he was speaking to his mum on the phone again.  He's great with her, rarely shows any impatience.    She phones every day, and the dementia has been noticeably worse recently.     Right now she's in the nmiddle of a particularly severe 'bout'  (is bout the right word?). 

She didn't know what day it was, so DH asked her to look at the clock on the wall.  She has a clock with a large display which shows time, day and date.   She told him what it said.  A few minutes later, she told him she didn't know what day it was.

She then asked him how to work the pencils.  This was (I presume) the parcel of pencils I sent her some weeks ago, which she said she didn't get.   I'd chosen 'propelling' pencils, ones which had one single, long, lead in. This means she wouldn't have to worry about sharpeners, and she wouldn't have to worry about refilling the pencil once the lead was used up.  

When asked, she said she hadn't got the parcel (which was delivered yesterday) which contained ordinary pencils. I guess it's possible that the Home hasn't given her her parcel yet. Or it's equally possible that it's actually the ordinary pencils she is looking at, and she is getting confused.

She also complained bitterly that her daughter hadn't phoned. DH explained that SIL was away working, and MIL got very angry/upset, saying that she could phone.   It's entirely possible that SIL has phoned. Last week, DMIL said that SIL hadn't visited for ages, even though we knew she'd actually visited that afternoon!  

It's such a cruel disease, it's turning my lovely MIL into something she isn't.   

I noticed that didn't use my SIL's name, and   I suspect that she's temporarily forgotten it.    I haven't noticed her doing that before.


Yesterday, she was a little upset.  She thought she had knocked down a wall of her room, but the wall is still there.  She said she probably dreamt it (but she only knew it was a dream bercuse the wall was still there).

This is probably the worst time for her.  The disease hasn't taken her completely,  and she knows that things aren't quite right. 

Although it will be horrible for us,  it will be better for her when the disease has taken her completely and she can be blissfully ignorant of her state of mind.

Snowball

I found the camcorder, to attempt to record the chick/s crowing and, of course, the battery was dead.  I knew that the spare battery was in the charger, and the charger had been plugged in to a socket in the kitchen. I also knew that it wasn't there any more, I'd moved it when I'd wanted to raise the table,  but I couldn't think where it could be.

I checked the obvious place.  I emptied the little cupboard out in the end, and checked everything to make sure I wasn't missing it.

So, I went to the next obvious place.   And while I was there, I thought it could all do with sorting out.  And  then it snowballed. 

I had stuff everywhere. Piles of stuff.   All the little electricky bits,  I put into ziplock bags and printed labels for the bags (most of the actual items were already labelled, from a previous tidy up). I took the opportunty to clear out some stuff relating to an old job, and stacked the papers up, ready to burn.   This gave me a free slot,  so I did some reorganising of that unit while I was at it.

I've managed to clear out several cupboards.   I didn't find the charger but, part way through,  I remembered recording my embroidery machine,  and I could vaguely picture it sitting on the side upstairs. 

I did look, while I was taking some stuff upstairs to out away, and it wasn't where I pictured, but the spare battery was. 

I carried on sorting out downstairs.  I vaguely remembered it had been plugged in the landing, and I'd unplugged it for some reason... and I'd put it in a stupid place.   By the time I'd nearly finished the excavations downstairs,  I had a pretty good idea where it was.  I went upstairs to look - and found it.

I'm actually quite pleased that I misplaced it, as I wouldn't have done all this decluttering otherwise.

Crow No!

We heard that strangled crow this morning,. I looked out of the window, and could only see one of the 3.  The crow happened again and, to my horror, the one I was watching seemed to be doing it.

It was one of the Legcanas,  Sherbert I think - the bigger of the two.  I can't be sure though, I was looking from above.

We've been keeping a close eye all morning, waiting for another crow so we can check.

Even if Herbert (the Vorwerk) turns out to be a girl,  Sherbert/Fizz isn't any use to us as a cockerel.  He's half leghorn, and they don't make good table chicks.


It may be that Boy-Sherbert/Fizz is suppressing the development of Boy-Herbert.   We had that once before, a long time ago...

...Our first foray into table birds was to buy-in some 6 week old table chicks to raise them.   It was not the most pleasant experience, they were a fast growing breed and did nothing but eat.     Amongst the white birds we had 2 brown chicks.  One was a cockerel and the other was a hen.  The cockerel had a strange gait, so we called him Lumpy (I think I had just watched Bill Murray in Scrooged, his girlfriend called him Lumpy because of the way he walked),  and the other one was called Mrs Lumpy.   Lumpy was culled for the table  and, within days, Mrs Lumpy revealed that she was actually a boy.  S/he threw off the dull plumage and suddenly a magnificent tail, saddle and crest appeared;  the comb enlarged and the wattles grew.       It turned out that Mrs Lumpy was one of those cockerels who was quite happy to defer to another boy.

I'm wondering if Herbert might be doing something similar?  It's not uncommon to be able to keep 2 Vorwerk boys.

We've been out this morning to inspect all 3 of them, but I can't really see any evidence of saddle feathers or hackle feathers.  Maybe a bit on Herb, but I can't be sure.  Sherb and Fizz are doing a lot of quite rough standing off,  and I'm now wondering if both are boys.

The fate for a male Legcana is: go back to the breeder (if he'll take them, which is unlikely);  rehome;  cull.

What we do next depends on what we're left with.
Just Herbert - boy - either get 2 point of lay pullets to keep him company,  or move him to the allotment earlier than planned.
Just Herbalina - girl - get a pullet and a cockerel to keep her company?  Or just a cockerel?   Or just a pullet and wait until a bit later to get a cockerel for the allotment.  Keep them here for a while, or introduce them to each other at the own pen at the allotment (new home for all)?
Herbert + female Legcana - Leave as they are?  Or get another pullet now so that female isn't on her own to be introduced to the rest of the allotmenteers
Herbalina+female Legcana - Leave as they are, look for another cockerel, full grown this time,  and put them all down the allotment, in their own pen until the girls are older,  together.

In many respects, the first and last options would be the easiest to manage.


There's no point contacting the breeder until I know which one it is.

Cockadiddley?

Was that a strangled, adolescent, crow I just heard?  Or was it the dishwasher squeaking?

I ran to the kitchen to look out of the window to look through the window at the 3 youngsters.

I was ambushed en route by a starving cat. As she's a fussy eater, I had to stop and feed her,  and I heard it again.  It was definitely not the dishwasher, so it must be one of the chooks.

But which one?

I looked at them, as they all sat in a line, perched on the back of the child sized garden bench.  None of them looked like they'd crowed,  and none of them looked like doing it again.

DH appeared. "Did you hear it?" he said.

Sherbert,  the "Legcana" with face furniture and yellow legs looked quite pleased with herself.   "I hope it's not her!".  We have no room for a male Legcana, and I'd paid good money for a pullet.

We stood and watched and waited.  And waited.  And waited.

Eventually we gave up waiting.

I'm trying to remember my password for the security cameras so I can see if it was caught on camera.

Dementia

My lovely, lovely MIL's Dementia is getting worse.

Until recently, the incidents had a humourous twist to them.  We knew that they were an indicator of her dementia,  and we knew that, for her, they weren't at all humourous.   Like the time she phoned because the lights in her home (her home home, not the Home in which she lives now) weren't working - and it turned out she was wearing sunglasses.

About a month ago, she really brightened up.  She phones most days,  and DH and she (or she and I) have the same conversation.  She says how well she is feeling, never felt better,  has been eating properly and feels fitter than she has done in years.  We talk about the weather,  about SIL visits,  about DH and when he will next be able to visit,  and so on.     She asks for puzzle books, for pencils, all of which I send (and she tells me that DH has sent them to her,  but that's OK).  We talk about whether she's been out for a walk, what she's had to eat, that sort of stuff.     I;m happy with the repetition, it makes the conversation easy.

And then, suddenly, a significant shift.    This week, she's been unable to find something, and has been very distressed about it.   She is adamant that she put the item on the shelf, like she always has done,  but its gone, it must have been stolen.     DH has spent hours on the phone with her, trying to help.  He asked her to check her bathroom, she was adamant she doesn't have a bathroom (she does, its an ensuite in her room at the Home).  She cried, upset that he didn't believe her.  DH is brilliant.  He patiently explained that he does believe her, but to look anyway.  He tried to establish whether she'd told one of the carers that she'd lost it,  but couldn't get her to say the same thing twice.

On a different day she said that she had put it on the shelf,  but in the night a big machine came and cleared away the whole of that shelf an the whole of the wall, it wasn't there any more.   We know that this is the Dementia causing it, and we know that she genuinely believes that what she says is true.

Of course, she's remembering a different room, a different place,  possibly from 50 years ago, and the frazzled synapses are making her believer the only possible explanation is that the whole wall had been taken away. And the only way that could happen, was by a big machine. And because she hadn't seen it, it must have happened at night.

The saga continued for several days, with more tears of genuine distress.    My MIL would be mortified if she was aware of what was happening to her,  she would never cry in front of her son.  

My SIL goes to see her at least once a week, sometimes twice.  When I ask MIL  about SIL visits,  she sometimes says she's seen her,  but often says she hasn't seen her for ages.


The list of confusions is now quite long.    The home is a Mathodist run one,  and they have services on a Sunday.    Each Monday she phones to say that "once a year the whole place comes to a halt while they have some religious ceremony".   Of course, the "once a year" is "once a week", and every week she phones to tell us about the once a year happening.

 I'm so sad that we are losing the person she was.  More than that, I'm so very sorry for the person currently  inhabiting her space.  I suspect she's finding the orkd very confusing, and a little frightening, and I think that  she knows things aren't right with her.

I wish I could reassure her.

Bonus!

At the end of last week, two separate conversations with Small PErson's (SP) mum collided in my memory.

The first was when she'd said that SP went back to school on Wednesday and the second was that she was had Thursday, Friday and Monday off work.    I messaged her to check, and offered to have SP on Tuesday if that was the case.  She messaged back to say thank you, and that SP's dad was going to have SP on Tuesday. She'd check with him.

SP overheard her mum and dad discussing it,  and asked if she could come to me instead. Result for all of us!

So, we had a bonus day yesterday, an unexpected pleasure.

I had a couple of things planned:  some time with the chicks, trying to get them used to being caught,  and teaching her to sew something simple.

Unfortunately, it turned out that SP had quite a bit of homework to do,  so we actually spent almost the whole day doing that.      She had to find out some stuff and do a poster (or Powerpoint) about Van Gogh.    I had an idea about decorating it with little thumbnail sized pics of  his pictures... and then when I found out how many pictures that was,  we adapted the design.  We still only used about half of them.   I spent most of the day cutting them out for her to stick.

 I learned quite a bit, and I made sure that she could explain all the points on her poster (How old was he when he died?  How many paintings did he create?  How many drawings?  How many did he sell in hs lifetime?   What happened about the Ear?  What was different between Gaugin and Van Gogh's style of painting?   What is a "lay preacher"?  What is an "art dealer"?  What was special about the painting that sold in 1990?) so that the teacher would know that SP had really done the work.

We did fit in some chick time,  and time to eat ice lollies and bagels.  We also witnessed an incident with Sherbert and Fizzbert, the two "Legcauna".       There was some facing-off going on,  normal at their age.  And then it turned a bit nasty,  and then it turned very nasty.  We went out and I separated th etwo girls, shut oe in the run, and brought the othe rone in the house.    I cleaned her up and applied lots of Septicleanse,  and then swapped them over.

I realised that the apparent aggressor, Fizzbert,  was actually reacting from having a bit of her comb bitten off by Sherbert.    I kept an eye on them for the rest of the afternoon, and noticed that they kept their distance from each other. 

Small Person, of course, wanted to know what my contingency plans were going to be.  "What would you do if they keep fighting?  ". She'd worked out that we didn't have any room to permanently separate them.  I explained that I'd probably have to keep the aggressive one in a dog crate for a while, and then reintroduce and see what happens.   

"What if that didn't work?"  Well, I'd probably have to rehome one of them
"What if you couldn't rehome one?"  Worst case, I'd have to cull.
"What if they were both aggressive"  Well, I'd probably have to pick one to keep.
"Which one?" I honestly don't know. I don't have a favourit
and so on.

We'd had a different conversation a few days before.
"What if Herbert isn't a boy?"  Well, I'll keep him and call him Herbalina (which was SP's suggestion of a name for one of the Legcaunas.
"What if one of the white ones is a boy?" Well, I'd have to try and rehome him.
"Why wouldn't you keep him?"  I only have room for one cockerel
"What if Herbert is a girl and one of the white ones is a boy, would you keep him?" No.
"Why?" Because we breed for the table,  and I need a cockerel that will prodiuce good table birds.  The white chicks are from breeds which are great egg producers, not table birds".

I'm used to these conversations now,  I try and answer honestly and without showing embarassement (and without going in to too much detail). 

We've had several conversations about hens, cockerels,chicks, eggs, fertilised eggs, incubation and brooding. 
 
Yesterday, as we were learning about Van Gogh,  she said  "It says Van Gogh sent his ear to a prostitute.  What's a prostitute?"   A prostitute is a woman who has sex for money instead of for pleasure or making babies.


I digress.

This morning, I opened the back of their coop to see whether anything had happened in the night, but all was well.  And today they were sitting next to each other in the sunshine, so harmony has been restored.  A bit of a relief really.

Appliancing

On Sunday morning, the dishwashwer was displaying a fault code.   I googled it, and found lots of online help about what the error probably meant, and suggestions on how to fix it.  It was one of those generic error codes, where you have to work down the list and eliminate various causes.

I took out the trays,  and then DH and I attempted to remove the plinth that was holding the machine in.  Easier said than done.

Some time later, the plinth had been removed and the dishwasher was out and being laid on its side. 
One of the legs snapped. My fault I think.


We located the part,  tested it,  tested somewhere else (to make sure it wasn't somewhere else that was causing the problem), and then took out the part.  DH cleaned it up as instructed, and refitted it.

Righted the machine, turned everything back on, started it.. same fault.  So, the little part needing replacing.

It was going to cost almost £100 for the part.   There was no guarantee that this would solve the problem.  Our dishwasher is 12 years old.

We ended up buying a new dishwasher.  We used AO, and paid for next-day delivery.   I didn't really want to spend the money,  but I know what I'm like.  If I'd waited until free delivery on Tuesday,  by Monday evening I would be cursing that I hadn't spent the money.

As it was, I ended up with slightly dishpan hands.    Hand washing is SO wasteful!  I couldn't bear to have the tap running to get to the hot water,  I had to catch it in a bucket and give it to the plants. Or wash the floor with it.       

I don't think kids today realise that you have to use really really hot water to properly wash up.  I was wishing I had some Marigolds.   And all that water for rinshing!    And the draining board got full so quickly.... I even employed one of the dishwasher drawers to try and accommodate all the clean washing up.

The new machine didn't arrive until 5pm the next day,  by which time I'd done more washing up by hand than I've probably done in the last two years.

When I bought my first dishwasher (thirty something years ago), my friends and family thought I was crazy to buy such an unnecessary luxury.  Now, I imaging that a couple of days without one would have them tearing their hair out - or eating takeaway on paper plates.

Child-sized PROPER tools

SmallPerson had been helping in the garden.   One of the things she helped with, was raking up the windfall apples and pears.   Our lawn rake was far to big for her to use and she tried, valiantly, to hold it about half way down.

I went online to research child sized garden tools.  I found a lot of rubbish - garden "tools" that were really just toys,  about as useful as a childs pretend lawnmower.    I found some upmarket ones, which cost a small fortune - far more than I was prepared to spend in these circumstances.

And then I found some that actually looked good and weren't prohibitively expensive.  Even with next-day delivery, they were still not a bad price, and I decided to order several items.  I ordered a lawn rake, a garden rake, and some hand tools.  I was tempted to buy other items as well, but I wanted to order things that I knew Small Person could use immediately.

They didn't arrive. I hadn't noticed that they were on a "3-6 day delivery".  About a week after I'd placed my order, I emailed the supplying company, who responded immediately.  They apologised, and explained that the items come directly from the manufacturer,  and the manufacturer had just implemented new delivery systems which had been causing some problems.


The items arrived today,  and we won't be seeing Small Person again until October.

The items really are lovely.  They are well made,  they are proper garden tools, just a smaller version. They have lacquered ash handles, and carbon steel tines.  

Small Person will love them.

I can see that I am going to end up ordering the fork. And maybe the hoe.  And maybe the spade.

Here's a link to the website (no affiliate link or anything like that) https://www.worldofpower.co.uk/garden-toys.html

 

Small Person - Final week

Small Person has just left with her Mum, and the house is very quiet.   It's most likely that we won't see her again until the October half-term,  which gives me time to get the house tidied up and my (our)  batteries recharged.

This week we only had the pleasure of her company for 2 days, but they were really hectic. 

Yesterday she and I spent 3 hours at the allotment doing the late summer deep cleaning of all the coops.   She wanted to have a go at everything, and I wanted to make sure that everything was done thoroughly, which meant I had to take the time to show her how to use the sprayer etc properly.  

On the way home we discussed whether to buy  bagels for late lunch on the way home when we were both covered in Stalosan, Diatom, and chicken poo,  or to come out again later after a shower.    Her tummy won, and w etried to buy Bagels at our local Co-op (or Coop  as Small Person, understandably, thinks its pronounced) on the way home.  No bagels.

I tried out local petrol station, and they had some.  So, home,  bagels, and then showers.

I desperately wanted to sit down (and have a Nana nap,  something I don't often do!).  Instead, we played with the chicks, I taught her how to get them to fly up on to her arm.    She had been such a help, and her shoes were in such a state from c*ap at the allotment, that I thought I'd try and buy her a replacement pair. We bought her these  pink shoes last half term, and she's worn them to death. We went to the local town and found a similar pair, not pink. I also suggested we looked in the shop for a plain tee shirt that I could embroider for her.  No luck.  All the Small People stuff was already awash with designs.

On the way back to the car,  we were walking past Next,  so we popped in and had a look there.  I got her to try on some tops for size,  and we ended up buying a couple of multipacks.  This means I can embroider something now,  and have some in stock to do for her over the next few months.


Dinner was entrecote steak with dauphinoise potatoes.  I cooked the steaks very very rare (which is how she has it),  and she really enjoyed that.  She didn't mind the potatoes, but she did try and hide some under her knife so I know they weren't her favourite thing.    One of the things I really love about having her is that (with some exceptions) food isn't a drama.  She eats most things,  she'll try most things,  and she likes proper food.

Curse of the Were Rabbit and Great British Bake Off , and she went to bed. She slep until 9.30 this morning, which was not a surprise AND a complete surprise all in one.

Today was manic.    We started, as usual, with her making Nutella pancakes.  She'd had them as a treat for lunch as well one day last week,  and we were trying to replicate what the restaurant had done.   We nailed it today,  with me putting some nutella in a bowl in some warm water to loosen it, and suggesting that she added some baking powder to her batter.

The loop for her phone case (made by me) fell apart yesterday, meaning the case is useless, and I really wanted to make her a replacement.  She chose the fabrics last night , and I started to do the cutting out, and setting up the embroidery machine this morning.  I'm still not familiar with the machine, and it's a hideously complicated design (with extra back pocket, a tab, and goodness knows what else)  so it was taking a while. 

After I'd finally cut the mountain of pieces, in various fabrics and interfacings, Small Person announced that her Mum had found the Homework Sheet. This sheet had mysteriously disappeared some weeks ago and hadn't turned up despite me asking SP at the beginning of each week if she had homework to do.   

She had 8 pieces of homework to do.  We'd sort of done 1, getting her to practice her Maths, but that left 7 pieces to be completed by Wednesday.      She picked a large project one to tackle (A Skill I've Learned in the Holidays) which had to be detailed and include photographs (i.e. proof).  For the next few hours I battled rying to concentrate on sewing while trying to answer her questions and help her think about how how to tackle the project and then how to do each bit of it.

I had to help her articulate each bit of the skill,  and this involved asking her questions and getting her to really explain,  and then how to word it so anyone who doesn't have this skill could understand.

It was painful.   She has the attention span of a flea.   We'd have a breakthrough in terms of her being able to describe something, and she'd start to write it - but she'd lose steam before the words were written down.   She gets very frustrated with herself, and expends a lot of time and energygetting huffy, annoyed, fed up, etc.  We talked about how pointless that is. I was unpicking stitches at the time and I explained that I was frustrated that I'd made a mistake, but instead of getting cross and wasting energy on being frustrated and moaning about it,  I was instead just unpicking it and getting on with it.

I had to check her work for her, and go through spellings, but we got there in the end.   She then started on her second project which was a textile project.  I gave up all hope of doing the phone case,  and helped her plan her work and helped her find textiles with different textures.

DH and I had to pop out to the DIY shop (old farts discount day), and she asked to be left at home ("to finish my homework").   I agreed, after a moments hesitation,  and explained that we were leaving her at home to finish her homework, and that we expected the homework to be finished.   We gave her some rules about not going out,  not letting anyone in,  what to do if a parcel was delivered, answered her catastophising questions ("what if they say an adult has to sign?").   She asked if she was allowed to have a "short break" ("Of course, as long as the homework is finished by the time we get back. And by 'finished', I mean.... " blah blah).  I've learned that being specific avoids misunderstandings (and takes out wriggle room).

I finished by saying that we were trusting her with this, and if she let us down, well, we wouldn't trust her to stay at home on her own again.

It was fine.  She did the homework (she sent me a WhatsApp part way through to show me her progress.  She later told me that she'd also had a go on  the running machine, had been out to play with the chicks, had stroked the cat....   But her homework was finished to the exact point we'd agreed.

I then had to print out two photos to go on the first but of homework, and get her organised with all her stuff at the door. And then get her to clear up the detritis of her homework,  and her snacks.  She put the chooks away for me, and then her Mum arrived.

I'm knackered, but I'm pleased to have seen so much of her for the holidays. It won't be long before she'll be too old to enjoy coming over and spending time with us

Hoisted.

I've had no enthusiasm for tidying, housework, embroidery or sewing since DH fell off the shed roof. 

Today I gritted my teeth, and attempted to Get On With It.

GOWI involved firing up the heat press and pressing a massive pile of tee shirts.  And then going in the loft,  retreiveing some bee-keeping related paraphernalia and bringing it downstairs to donate to an acquantance who has started beekeeping.

And in the space created,  I put the flat pack boxes which have been junking up one of the rooms for the past 6 months (or so).  And I brought down a couple of other items which I've advertised as giveaways on our local facebook page,   some items which I'm attempting to sell,  and some items for a charity shop.   Then I did a small amount of clearing up in the ex-box room,  and threw away some fabric remnants (into a textile bag to take to the recycling centre).  I saw a post asking for beer making stuff, so I retrieved some items from the loft, and answered the request.  The hall is now awash with stuff awaiting collection.

I put the enormous bag of polysturene beads, bought to make an arm rest for DH, in the loft.  Unfortunately the bag split, and the balls started haemorrhaging all over the loft. I had to call DH to get the sellotape while I held my hand on the wound to stop the beads escaping.  I taped it up and then put the bag in two bin bags, and finally hoovered up.  I had to hoover the landing as well, because those balls got everywhere.  The landing was a bit surprised at being hoovered, I suspect.

The other milestone moment is that we took down the hoist in the bedroom!   DH's arm is still very weak,  but he's decided he can manage to get out of bed without using the hoist now.     Currently it's dismantled and lying on the massage couch. It weights a lot and we've no where to store it yet,  we need to do a bit more loft clearance!

I'm not sure I'll continue with GOWI tomorrow, but I will try.

Herbert, Sherbert, and Fizz(bert)

Maybe.

I've tried out several names for the 3 chicks, and these are the stickiest ones so far,

Herbert is the Vorwerk boy (probably). 

Sherbert and Fizz(bert) are 'Legcanas' (Leghorn/Araucana cross. No idea which is the male/female side( .  They've both got sort of Leghorn tails. They're combs look like they're going to be Araucana-ish.  Sherbert has sideburns (like an Araucana),  and Fizz(bert) has a clean face like a Leghorn.  At least that's how it seems at the moment.  Hopefully they'll be laying blue eggs.  

Small Person wanted me to call one of the Girls "Herbiana".  That's why I didn't ask her to suggest names... but if Herbert turns out to be a girl,  I'll call her Herbiana.

Small Person - lost count of the week

We didn't have Small Person last week as the lucky lady was at a pony camp, improving her riding and learning to jump.   It was great to have a break,  and I missed her.  Good on both points.

She was back with a vengeance on Monday.   Her first surprise was discovering that we had three new chicks,  and her second delighted surprise was learning that we wanted her to spend time with them. 

First,  I showed her how to let them out and to stand there until they had come out of the Run.  On no account was she to try and pick them up when letting them out.   We wanted them to learn that it was safe to come out when we were around, and that meant they had to learn they could do it  without being molested.

Later I showed her how to pick them up, and how to reward them with a little treat for being picked up.   And then how to sit down  and get them to come to her and to allow themselves to be stroked.   I checked to make sure that she was only letting them eat the interesting chick food (Garvo) when they were being stroked.  If they resisted, the food was removed.   The hardest lesson was getting her to leave them wanting more.

Later, we had mealworms and we rewarded them for letting us catch them.

She took us at our word and spent a large part of the three days playing with the chicks.

This morning I went in to the chick run and they were running around my feet.  Later, when I went out to play with them, they were flying up on my lap and arms as soon as I sat down.  I think, perhaps, I let Small Person play with them too much!

The shyest one is no longer shy, so that's a bit of a result.

It wasn't all chicks.   We had to pop into town, so we stopped for an emergency pancake.  We also made Nutella Lava Cake in the Microwave, which was horrendously sweet and I couldn't eat mine.  Small Person had misread the recipe so had used too much sugar.  We did the Allotmenteers, twice.  We had been planning to do a deep clean, but the weather wasn't dry enough.  

We'd also found an air rifle that was fairly light, and she had a go at target shooting with that, while we supervised.       As has become traditional this holiday, we watched a Wallace and Gromt film - this week we're up to A Matter of Loaf and Death. She also watched an episode of TaskMaster, which meant she stayed up far too late for a Small Person but she'd cleaned out the Garden Girls and the Chicks for me so she deserved it.

We played a Maths game which she likes (and needs, as she really does need the practice).  It's called Mobi, and I'm amazed that she asks to play it!    She did some labelling, helped DH, and we played table tennis.  Oh, she also cleared some weeds behind the greenhouse, I' can't squeeze down there.  She had a bit of a silly fit about a spider, and I tried to help her see how irrational this fear is.    It didn't help while she was standing there, but later she did say she could see that I was right and she'd try next time.

Just one more week to go!

The world keeps turning

I don't like not having a cockerel with the Allotmenteers.  There are a lot of them, all different ages,  and they need keeping in check.   A good cockerel looks out for his Ladies,  keeps watch for predators,  and stops any bullying.  There is still a hen pecking order, but the cockerel will usually stop it getting out of claw.

Camilla, number 11 out of 12 in the pecking order,  had been sticking close to Henry for some weeks,  and was right by his side for the last couple of days.  I'm worried that she'll get more pecked on than usual.  Souxsie Sioux, our smallest and oldest chook is number 12, and I think she'll suffer a bit too.

This time of year there are quite a lot of cockerels available, mant free to good home.   I thought about what I wanted:    a dual purpose breedd;  one that had been well handled; and a cockerel that had a chance of being good with us.     Oh, and something quickly.

 I did a local search, and found a lot of bantam cockerels, and cockerels from egg laying breeds.  Not so many dual purpose boys.    I then found an ad for a Vorwerk boy, 9 weeks old.   What a fab idea!  We could bring him home to the garden for a few weeks (until he started to crow), and we could get him used to us and used to being handled.  Perfect.

We retrieved the spare coop, which was a bit of a feat since DH has only one working arm at the mo.   We set it up, and I drove off to collect the lucky chap.    He's a little cutie pops.   We set him up in sight of the Garden Girls so he wouldn't feel too lonely.   Gloria escaped, and took an instant dislike to the interloper, and tried to peck him. 

As I watched him, I realised that he was going to have to be about 18 weeks old before I could try introducing him to the Girls at the allotment,  and 9 weeks was a long time for him to be "on his own".     I set about investigating getting a couple of similarly aged girls to grow on with him.

That was also harder than I expected.  I wanted to source locally,  I wanted something the right age,  and this time I wanted egg layers not dual purpose.   Once again, I found plenty of bantams.   I also found birds I didn't want: exchequer leghorns (I love leghorns,  but I still miss Lotti, my exchequer);  legbars (never again after that cow Milly) etc .

I found a chap who was selling 2 11 week old "legcanas" (Leghorn/Araucana cross).   I said "yes", and paid over the odds for them.  

The 3 of them are doing OK together at the moment,  I expect we'll see some jostling for position in the next few days.  That would happen even with hatchmates.

Small Person isn't here this week, and that's a shame. She would be a great asset to get them used to being handled!

Tough call

We culled Henry today.

I caught him easily,  and fed him scrambled eggs which he gobbled down.   I checked him over, and tested his legs. He couldn't grip.  He tried to stand, but couldn't.  I stroked him while he ate.  I realised that it was better to get it over with, rather than drag it out.  I told himn how much I loved him, what a wonderful boy he was, and how good he had been with his ladies.  I apologised that we didn't have a son to take over from him. 

We both had to do it, because DH only has one operational arm at the mo.  Afterwards, I sobbed like - well, like a girl I suppose.  I sobbed because he was so lovely and I was so sorry.   I cried for Camilla,  who had spent the last week within a few feet of him. I cried because the line was ending.  I cried because culling is such a hard thing to do, even though it's the right thing to do.


My lovely, lovely boy.

Surprise declutter

I had a very minor declutter of my utility room. Well, one half of one side of it anyway.

We'd decided to juice some pears.  For the first time in several years, the pears on the pear tree were not covered in canker.   I've been eating 1 or 2 a day, but now they are ripening and falling from the tree.   We wanted to at least try to do something with the ones that were left.

So, I went a picked a fair few.  We decided to juice them,  using the juicer I'd got from the bargain shelf at Lakeland last year (when we had so few apples it wasn't worth getting out the full apple pressing kit).   The juicing went well,  we chose to freeze the juice rather than pasteurising it.

I thought it might be a good idea to move the juicer so it was on our main worktop, along with our other "every day use" (slight cough) electricals. That way, I might actually use it. At least for the next month or two, while the fruit is ripening.

I made a space, which involved a bit of farting around,  and then a bit more farting around elsewhere in the kitchen.   I looked at the electric butter churn, and decided to find a permanent home for it in the utility room, rather than standing on the side.

Easier said than done.  The upshot of this is that I've decluttered a whole section of the utility room in order to get this fitted in.  The decluttered stuff is now sitting on the floor, next to the computer, in the living room.  I've been photographing it and listing it for sale (or as freebies).  If the items don't go by tomorrow, I'll give them to a charity shop.

I have to do it quickly, other wise there is a risk that I'll start thinking "Maybe I'll use that after all".  That's what happened last time I got the Tefal Jam Maker out to sell it.    I haven't used it since then, I seem to prefer my maslin pan.    I think I kept it because it makes divine rice pudding..... but my Instant Pot also makes good rice pudding. As the Instant Pot is always in use, it's out on the worktop, so I'm never going to get round to using the Tefal Jam Maker for it.

Ageing and CBA

When I was younger - not a lot younger - I had a tremendous ability to grit my teeth and power on through long, tiring, jobs.   I've lost that determination somewhere along the line.

My kitchen is in a bit of a state.  Quite a bit of a state.  Well, truth be told, it's quite a lot of  a state.  It needs a proper clean, a tackle-each-cupboard-fully clean.     Not so long ago I would have taken a deep breath, and just done it. Cupboard after cupboard after cupboard,  motoring on until it was ALL done. It wouldn't matter if it took me one day, or two days.  It would all be done.  All of it.  Stopping only for the occasional cup of tea. 

Now, I'm suffering from an acute case of CBA, and it's more like I'm farting around and stopping for the occasional emptying of a cupboard.  Today I did two, including the corner cupboard where all the plates, bowls, serving dishes live.    I had to suppress a giggle when I realised I was actually feeling a sense of accomplishment for having emptied and cleaned it out, put stuff back,  and got a small pile to be distributed between "charity shop" and "bin".   

When did I become so feckless?!

Last week I'd cleaned 3 tall wall cupboards,  1 normal base cupboard,  the corener cupboard where the frying pans, mixing bowls,  large cake tins etc are, and under the sink.  It took me three days to do them.  Well, it took me a few hours, spread over 3 days.

I'm going to do the drawer unit next.  That will mean I'll be 1/3rd of the way through.

At this rate I won't be done by Christmas!

Time passes

It's been over 5 weeks - FIVE weeks! - since DH had his op, nearly 6 since his accident.  It's gone past in a bit of a blur really.


I need matchsticks to prop open my eyes, mainly because I'm not sleeping through the night. 

He's doing really well, and he's also trying to do too much.   We arranged some physio for his upper arm, and we ended up buying a massage table so that I could try and do the physio at home.  Muxed success.  Still, any physio (done correctly) is better than no physio.  

I'm keeping the tomatoes going, just about.   We haven't done anything with them, apart from eat a few and give the burst ones to the chooks.   We keep meaning for me to pick some pears and juice them,  but the time just runs out.  Sometimes it feels that sorting out the cats meds, doing the Allotment chooks each day (OC has been away for a couple of weeks or so),  visits to get the dressings changed,  physio appointments,  there isn't much time for much else.  It's not true, of course, it just feels that way.

Last week I tried to use my new (to me) multi needle embroidery machine.  I'd had it a month and, due to DH's accident, I hadn't used it.  I couldn't remember anything.  I'd bought a tee shirt for Small Person (SP) , and attempted to embroider a flowing horses head on it.  Unfortunately, I managed to catch a bit of the hem on the back (grrrr!),  but it was a scalloped hem and the snip wasn't obvious.    I learned a lot in that 20 minutes.

This week I made SP's mum a birthday card,  and I used my new Durkee frames to do it, so that was also an achievement.   I then tried to use the Durkee frame to make SP a tooth fairy door hanger.  SP chose the fabrics (cue much complaining about how difficult the choice was).   I got stuck in an error loop, and no amount of reading the manual helped.   I had SP yapping on (and on) while I was trying to figure it out,  and in the end  I gave up and used a normal hoop, and that worked OK. 



Small Person (SP) has been here for 3 days this week, and it's been an interesting time.  She's been excellent company as always,  helping me with the allotment chooks,  looking after our garden girls, etc.   The weather this week has mostly been appallingly wet,  but we did manage to get to the park on 3 occasions to try and play table tennis.  That went surprisingly well,  and now we can sustain short rallies so we're improving.

She's had some specific projects to work on,  like sorting out DH's pound coin collection (SP is fascinated by coins, and always spots "rare" (well, less common ones, and  she's usually right!). She had to use the laminator for this, and the labeller, and organise things.

We made a lovely courgette lemon drizzle cake for her mum (we made one last week for ourselves, it was scrummy);    after a bit of a wrestle with my new embroidery machine, I made her a "tooth fairy" door hanger (she has some wobbly milk teeth);  and I can't remember the rest.

I do know that she is obviously starting to feel settled here, because she's had a couple of short sulky fits.    The biggest one was in the car,  because I said "No" to making Angel Delight for her.  I had made some for her (us) the day before, and she loved it, and wanted more.   I refused, saying it was a special, occasional treat.       Wow, what a sulk!

I explained that sulking was not going to make me change my mind, in fact it would make me even more determined to say no.    The sulking continued for  the rest of the car journey.   I could see that she was trying to get herself out of the sulk (something I striggle to do myself, actually), so when she made overtures, I helped her out.    No, we didn't have the Angel Delight.  We did, however, have pains au chocolat while watching A Close Shave We had watched A Grand Day Out and The Wrong Trousers last week.

She's been trying to get the two light birds to stand on her arm.  Poor Girls.  She does seem to manage to pick up Sasha quite a bit. I told her to try and give her a little treat each time she picks her up, so that Sasha associates being picked up with getting a reward.    It seems to be working.

We don't have her next week, and that's good.  I can use the time to catch up on neglected home duties,  and maybe try and resolve that embroidery machine error.

Bye bye Batty

As soon as I arrived on the Allotment yesterday, I saw that Batty was not her normal sprightly self.

 I noticed a couple of weeks  ago that she had lost some weight, but she was eating well, barging her way around, and being very sprightly.  I mentioned the weight loss to DH, and said  that I thought she might need to be dispatched before long.

There was no change to her demeanour, until yesterday.  Yesterday she wasn't interested in courgettes, or corn,  and she seemed to be not quite all there.   I caught her, checked her over for wounds, gave her some Nutridrops.   It was possible that she was brewing a softy,  although I didn't think so.   She didn't seem in any distress,  we didn't really have any suitable dispatching implement, so we decided we'd take something with us today so we could do the deed if she hadn't improved.

She was in the coop, on the floor, already dead, when we arrived.    I'm glad we didn't have to dispatch her ourselves;  DH is one armed at the moment, so we would have been worried about not doing it cleanly. 

She was a lovely, friendly, cheeky girl.   She and her sister Norah are our last remaining offspring of Roo and Rose.  Rose was one of the original Welsh Black girls we brought back from Castle Farm when we settled on having an Indian Game cross breed for our table birds.  Roo was already there, we'd had him for a year I think by then,  he was our first home-hatched cockerel. We hatched him and two girls for the table,  but when it came to it we couldn't do it. We'd got too attached to the 3 of them.

The young Batty

Grown-up Batty

Batty had a relatively long and happy free range life.   She was so characterful, I'll miss her.  I'm pleased we still have Norah, although at over 6 she may not have that long to go.


A lot of them are senior citizhens now, so I'm trying to be mentally prepared for it.

Goodnight sweetheart xxx

Small Person, week 2.

Summer holidays are here, and that means we get to spend time with Small Person (SP) for a few days each week :-)

Mostly we just carry on with our normal routine, and SP joins in and helps.  Sometimes I save things to do that I know she'll like: for example, if there is any labelling to do, I make a note on a memo thing on the fridge, and SP gets out the labeller and does it for me.

We usually have her 3 days a week, and she stays over for one night.  She'd like to stay over for both nights (probably because she gets to stay up ridiculously late), but I am a firm believer in leaving them wanting more. So in the long holidays, we stick to one night.

She likes to have things that she's in charge of.  So, she gets to collect eggs (I try not to  collect them on the days she's not here, so she has plenty to collect) and she writes the date on them and puts them on the Egg Skelter.  She lets the Girls out and puts them in as necessary, and gives them their treats. If they need cleaning out, she does that.  She helps me with worming, heath checking, and playing with them.

She comes to the allotment and gets on with unlocking everything, cleaning and refilling waterers, collecting eggs.   At home, she measures out some of the cat meds. She goes to the shop (we're lucky the shop is very close by) to get Bagels for lunch.  She fills the bird feeders.  If she stays over on Air Rifle night, she comes to the Club with us.

She also takes on other "jobs". Picking (and eating) tomatoes and cucumbers.  She mowed the grass yesterday, which was an amazing feat as the lawnmower is big and heavy.   She did some weeding.  We do some cooking.  I've made her various articles of clothing (none of which have been particularly well sewn, I'm still learning) and she always seems pleased with them.

She's also been helping DH kit out his workshop, she's not just a girly girl. Today's task has been laying interlocking matting. He couldnt do it on his own because he's one handed at the mo.

She asks questions all the time, about anything and everything.  Some are easy to answer, some are more tricky.   She learned last holiday about fertilised eggs (why you don't need a cockerel to have eggs but you do if you want chicks,  what a fertilised egg actually is,  why a fertilised wgg won't necessarily result in a chick,  what incubation is,  what is thw difference between a hen incubating and us using an incubator,  why hens go broody even if they don't have eggs.... etc). 

This time we've had some detailed questions about chicken breeding.  Today's line of questioning started with "If we wanted to have Gloria hatch eggs,  would we take Gloria doen to the allotment to be with Henry, or would we bring Henry to the Garden?"    I explained that we probably wouldn't do either, we might put fertilised eggs fro one of the other Girls under Gloria, or actually we might consider bringing in fertile eggs from outside to refresh the bloodline.  She likes full and honest answers, and she remembers the details.  If we didn't tell her that bringing in outside eggs was a possibility, and then we did this next year,  she'd feel that we hadn't told her the truth. 

So, today's discussion included explaining Henry's relationship to various Allotmenteers, and why there were two girls (his full sisters) that we wouldn't breed with him   

It's not all just "work" though.  We go out sometimes (although she seems just as happy at home, as long as we're 'doing'  something).  We (rarely, special treat) have a water fight.    I bought a pop up pool to use, but the weather has been rubbish,  certain;uy not good enough to warrant ruiing our grass over.

She eats whatever we put in front of her, doesn't always like it but it's not a drama when that happens.  She loves to pick the vegetables from the garden and eat those.

She enjoys being here,  and tells her mum all about everything she's done (however mundane it may seem to us).   It won't be long before coming to us will be a bit of a bind for her,  so I'm happy to enjoy it while we can

Thank you

My lovely step son (R) came yesterday to finish insulating the workshop roof so that it could be made watertight.  He got so far but then it rained, and the rain just didn't  stop.  So, he stayed over.

Today he and my brother finished the work DH was doing when he fell. They also moved the internal wall,  made up the second bench, and tidied up.     The shed is now weatherproof. The roofing shingles and the kitting out can wait until DH's arm is fixed.  DH may even ask for help in completing the shingles.

We're so very lucky, and we really appreciate their help.

Goodnight Poppet

One of our allotment chooks died. 

We found her this morning.  No obvious signs of cause.  She'd not looked right yesterday, I couldn't see anything wrong, she just didn't look right. I thought she might be brewing a softy.  I had given her some Nutridrops, but they didn't work their magic this time.  She was one of our lovely Welsh Blacks,  an Indian Game/Australorp cross.   She was only 3.

We've been lucky that it's been a while since we've had a loss. I've been expecting a couple of the older girls to go, I hadn't expected one of the (relatively) young ones.

Goodnight Poppet.

Procrastination strikes

With DH out of action, I've been busy tring to keep on top of everyday stuff,  and I haven't had time to do anything on my (new to me) multi needle embroidery machine.

I'm guilty of creative avoidance.

I haven't done much sewing (apart from adapting some tee shirts for DH.  And omne jersey tee shirt for me, which turned out to be too clingy for the fabric I'd chosen).

I am trying to clear my cutting table (aka the kitchen table) so I can draft a shorts pattern for DH. I keep getting distracted, although today I woke up deciding I was really really really going to do it (i.e. clear it) today.

I've made a lot of progress.  There's a lot of clearing to do.   I can see the tabletop on about 2/3rds of it now, the other 1/3rd is piled up with stuff which needs putting away.

I am going to do it.

Really.

Still broody. Two broodies.

Gloria has been broody since 18th May, 8 weeks now.  Poppy went broody about a week ago today, and they've been sharing the nest box in the Cube.

Gloria is, at last, considering not being broody any more.   I know this because she now comes out of the Cube at every conceivable excuse.  As soon as she hears me, she comes out to see if I have something worth eating.  And if I do, which I usually do,  she makes those cockerelesque encouraging burbles which mother hens also use to encourage their babies to eat.  I've even seen her pick up a bit of food and drop it, invitingly, next to one of the other girls.

But she then disappears back into the Cube, so she's not finished yet.

I've been enouraging her to practice jumping on to my outstretched arm, falconer style.  She doesn't need the practice, but I want to show the 3 youngsters how its done.   I wish I'd taught them when they were babies.    Progress is slow to non existent.   Sasha,  Appenzeller,  will just about stand on my arm, if I place her there and don't do anything to scare her.   Fay, Fayoumi,  runs away shrieking when I try and pick her up.  Fleur, Marans,  well, she's just too heavy.  I've tried sitting down and then putting her on my arm but she panics.  

I've missed having baby chickens this year, although it's probably been a good thing.

Moving on

The last few days have gone in a bit of a blur.

The first couple of days revolved entirely around helping DH with every task.  Getting a drink, taking tablets, having a shower, getting up, sitting down, eating....    I adapted a second tee shirt,  bought some more bits (Amazon Prime has been fabulous).

As the morphine has worn off, the pain has increased.  I've kept a detailed record of all the medications.

Gradually, DH has been able to do more and more for himself,  and he's been amazing.  Much better than I suspect I would have been.

We've got a routine now for the morning, which includes showering us both, medicating DH and medicating the cats, having breakfast and getting ready for the rest of the day.

We've been twice now to have the wound checked and the dressing changed.  

I saw a self-hoist thing for sale on Gumtree, not too far away. It was a bit of a bargain,  so we decided to get it.  I went out yesterday, calling in at Costco on the way home.  

The hoist is really designed for someone who can use both arms to pull themselves up,  not someone who can only use one arm.  It took some time to try and get the optimum position for it, and we have to have it angled to compensate.  It's hard work for DH, probably harder work than using me to pull against,  but it gives him a bit more independence.

He's gradually become more coherent, and he now seems fairly normal in that regard. .  He's much more mobile (once he's up).     The way he is now is the way I had expected him to be when he was discharged.


We think he has broken a rib,  the pain when he coughs is too intense to just be sore muscles.

A different kind of stress

DH was discharged on Friday.  We had instructions to get his wound looked at on Monday and to come back immediately if there was any bleeding.

I had prepared for DH coming home - or I thought I had.  I'd ordered one of those full arm plastic bags, so he could shower.  We already had a little bed table.  I had made some alterations to an old tee shirt, and was really proud of the results.  I was ready for a bit of hassle.

I was somewhat niaive.   I had imagined that D would come home,  have no use of his arm,  be a bit stiff.  I had not imagined that he would be barely able to put one foot in front of the other,  that he would be away with the fairies,  and that he wouldn't be able to lie down, or sit up,  or anything in between.

DH fell asleep while sitting on the sofa.  Unfortunately, he was holding a glass at the time.   It wasn't a problem.  He went to bed because he was so exhausted.   He couldn't lie down, so I made some sort of arrangement with numerous pillows so he could be in a bit of a half way down position.  

It was 5.15, and I went out to buy some sort of "sippy cup" so he could have it on the bed, and it wouldn't matter if it rolled over.   I decided to go to one of the nearby towns and see if I could get a V pillow or something at the same time.

The local department store was just about still open when I got there.  I raced up the escalators to the homeware department.  Their website had showed they sold V pillows,  but there weren't any to be seen.   I rushed through the shopping centre, googling the various shops to see who was likely to have something.  I passed a Wilko, open until 6pm, so I popped in there, and they had one.  I bought it. 

Boots next, for the sippy cup.   I don't have children, I have no idea about suppy cups.  The choice was overwhelming.  I bought 3 different sorts.

 Next was also supposed to sell such things, and the town had a massive Next which was open until 8pm.   No luck.   TK Max, open til 8,  no luck.  They did, however, have some "box" pillows, so I bought the only two they had.   I looked at the dog beds to see if I could find a beanbag type, but no luck.

On the way back to the car, I passed Hobbycraft, still open.  I went in and bought a massive bag of beanbag beans.

I was very stressed about how we were going to manage, scared that we might do more damage to DH by his not being able to lie as he needed to.

At home, I unpacked everything.   I started to make up the side arm for the bed, and then I realised it just wasn't going to work, even if DH slept on my side of the bed.    DH woke up, and I helped him get up and go to the toilet.  I tried out several combinations of pillows (myself) and found a combo that would provide more support.   DH went back to bed, and seemed marginally more comfortable.

I still wasn't happy.  I started looking online for wedge pillows,  then I remembered that Argos sold disability aids.   I searched the local ones, and found one in another nearby town that had some bits in stock.   They were open until 8.   I ordered online, and got there at 7.50.  

 I put the table in the middle of the bed between us, where he could reach it.  I put a sippy cup of water on it, and the control to the ceiling fan.   I asked DH to wake me whenever he needed anything, and he had to do that because he wasn't able to sit himself up.

It was a long night.