The flat earth society of chickens

Chickens have a very clear mission in life - to make the earth flat. In this case they are doing their level best to eradicate all signs of the muck heap. Or is it just that they've discovered it is absolutely alive with worms and other tasty bugs?
This muck heap will stand a good while longer to completely rot down. The one to the left is ready for this year's potato beds as soon as the weather allows.

Moving Mountains

Sunday 3rd June 2012
Rain.

Spuds, Muck and more Muck
Today I moved not one, not two, but three mountains! I had arranged to go over to our friends and collect their bagged-up horse manure, but when I opened up the garage to hook up the trailer, I remembered that it was still half full with pig potatoes which needed loading into sacks and taking down to the pig pens. Sue and I got stuck in and it wasn't too long before half a ton of spuds were bagged up, apart from a carpeting of potato eyes on the floor of the trailer. 
The goose-barrow really earned it's keep today. I can fairly easily move 250kg on the barrow, so a couple of trips and everything was in the right place.

We then headed off to collect the 60 or so plastic bags of horse manure. Weighing in at between 5 and 8kg each, and more when wet, this was another job for the goose barrow when we returned. There was already a load of manure bags sitting by the heaps waiting to be unloaded. So that was over a hundred bags of muck to be split open and heaped up, or to put it another way, well over half a ton. By lunchtime the job was finished and so, just about, was I.
Like a marathon runner, I was pleased that it drizzled most of the day, though I must have looked pretty bedraggled by the end of it. 

But that was only two mountains moved, and the third towered over the first two, for Gerald's old stable still needed mucking out. I reckoned about 40 large wheelbarrows worth all needed digging out, wheeling down the land and unloading at the other end. Fortunately my muscles got a second wind and for a few hours I felt like Popeye. 

An admirable hobby
By early evening I welcomed the chance to pause and admire the agility of a hobby which cut through the air. Amazingly this falcon preys on swifts and swallows, particularly on migration and in late summer when there are plenty of young, inexperienced birds to hunt. Our small colony of breeding swallows attracts these falcons occasionally and the swallows always let me know of their presence as the adults fly up towards the hobby, twittering madly. I have only once seen a hobby actually take a bird in flight. It is more usual to see them catching their other favourite foodstuff over reedbeds, where they swoop in search of dragonflies which they catch and dismember in flight. Anyway, today's bird shot low through ahead of the rain and disappeared over the trees towards the Main Drain.

After that pause I pushed myself hard to get the job done and was feeling decidedly weary by the time the sun was plummeting toward the horizon.
That last barrowful was a joy to unload. A very, very good day's work done.

My muscles will be aching in the morning though, so more gentle jobs will be in order for tomorrow.

 

Proper Mingin'!

Sunday 22nd April 2012
Pig Moving Day

Imagine The Good Life crossed with Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em. Throw in a Benny Hill chase scene and a bit of Mr Bean.
You could well end up with a scene similar to what occurred on our farm this morning, for it was pig moving day. Sorry for the lack of pictures of the most exciting (!!?) bits, but there just wasn't an opportune moment. All planning ahead had been done. The route is well marked and foolproof, clearly defined with fencing and with gates along the way which can be shut to secure each part of the journey. The only problem was that I suspected the piglets could squeeze through the stock fencing if they wanted to do, but that wouldn't happen as they'd follow their mum down to the pig enclosure... wouldn't they???

We deliberately left Daisy without food for the morning (there is only one way to a pig's heart) and so, at the appointed time, she dutifully followed me, or to be more precise the bucket of food I was holding, out of the stables and into the yard. The piglets followed in a straggly line. Well, most of the piglets followed. A couple stayed behind and a couple went off exploring in the stables. So Daisy turned back to check on them all. Nothing unexpected so far, and we have learned to be patient when moving pigs. This happened a couple more times, then Daisy followed me in one clean, swift move all the way down to the pig enclosure, about 100 yards from the stables. I decided to abandon Plan A and to make hay while the sun shines. I could attend to the piglets next.

I then headed back toward the stables, only to meet Sue expertly ushering half the piglets down the garden. This could go very smoothly... or they could scatter in all directions, breaking through the fence and heading for the potato patch, the dyke and the farmer's field.

Which is exactly what happened. One ended up in the chicken pens, so we shut the door and left it to calm down. Two ended up with Daisy. And we ended up chasing the other two all around the garden and, eventually, all the way back to the stables. We ushered them back into their stable block, ready to move on to Plan C.

One, two, three, four, five, six...SIX!

Fortunately number 7 was soon relocated under the log pile and, after a bit of an adventurous chase around the garden, was reconciled with its brothers and sisters.

Plan C proved far more successful. Catch the piglets one at a time and carry them down. I am now an expert piglet catcher, and once they've had their mad, crazed squeal they soon settle down to their new form of carriage.

It was during one such operation that one of the little porkers must have weed on me. I stunk like the worst men's toilet I've ever been in!

The word MINGING somehow works very well to describe this attack on the senses.

All the time, Gerald (the boar who overstayed his welcome) was taking a very keen interest. This was the first time he had seen any of his offspring.

Eventually, all settled in to their new home. They ate so much grass and ran around so much, I wouldn't be surprised if half of them made themselves sick. They took a keen interest in the chickens, and vice versa.
There now follows a series of cute, happy piglet pics.

After the move, the clean up.


It might not look a lot, but you try shifting it!

Slowly the second pile grew...

and grew...

 

 

and the stable emptied...

until the last load..

was done.
These compost heaps and manure piles are the beating heart of my fruit and veg patch.

Now I was proper MINGING.

Time for a long, hot bath.

Some more gratuitously cute pig pics