Woodcock a gogo

Goodness there's been a lot happening on the farm this past week. Warm weather and nights drawing out mean there's no excuse for staying indoors.
A couple of years ago I planted a whole load of conifers and firs down the land, intended as a partial windbreak and as a point of interest halfway down the land. But it didn't quite work out. The difficulty keeping the grass short has meant that the trees got lost and struggled to grow. Added to this, some of them really didn't like the exposed situation and succumbed to the winds. The soil down there is compacted and heavy too, the result of years of agricultural exploitation in the past.

The geese peruse the new planting scheme.

So I decided to take the risk and move the lot of them closer to the farmhouse where they could have more impact. I'm also acutely aware that I may at some stage lose the ash trees, so replacements need to be ready to go. Apart from willows and conifers, I'd be long gone waiting for any other tree to approach the maturity of the old ash trees.

As I trudged through the rough grass, spade in hand, what should fly out but a woodcock - a dumpy bird with a long, straight bill and almost perfect camouflage. In fact, the first one I ever saw caused me quite a shock as I almost stood on it sitting motionless in the leaf litter.
This is only my second woodcock sighting for the farm and came as quite a surprise. I guess it's a migrating bird on it's way back north, like the redwings which are feeding up on the ivy before their flight to their breeding grounds.

Back to the tree moving.
It was an easier job than I'd anticipated, mainly due to their root systems not being very extensive. As long as the rabbits don't destroy them, the evergreens should hopefully soon begin to give more year-round structure and height to the garden.
I mention the rabbits as today I discovered that the twenty four young Christmas trees which Sue planted along the dyke, with the hope that they would eventually form a windbreak, have been wantonly and destructively nibbled! It was enough to divert me from all other tasks to quickly improvise some tree protectors for them. It can be disheartening when something like this happens. Time to call in the rabbit hunter!

Ashes to ashes? Worrying times.

Thursday 15th November 2012

I missed posting yesterday, for not only is the house in a totally disorganised, dusty mess at the moment, but Sue got the dreaded Ofsted call on Tuesday. Please don't get me started on this subject, or anything to do with the way successive governments have bullied teachers and mismanaged the education of our nation's children. Suffice to say it's been all-consuming, disgracefully stressful and I'm not even allowed to tell anybody if it went well or not for two weeks.
Anyway, now it's over.  As is my rant.

Last night, in the murk, I got a wonderful sight of a flyby barn owl which eventually settled in the branches of the oldest Ash tree. It's been spending more time in the proximity of the farm buildings of late and I've even found a few pellets in the stables. If I ever get time I may investigate these further and post my gory findings.
More surprising though was a very unseasonal bat, a pipistrelle I think. I guess it was lured out of hibernation by the balmy temperatures we've had for a couple of days, 12 degrees late in the afternoon yesterday.
The Little Owl too has been calling more persistently of late and I actually saw it briefly in the gloom as it broke the skyline and alighted on top of the telegraph pole by Don's gateway.

At this time of year though, there's a price to pay for this warm weather and this morning was a real pea-souper. All I could see of the garden for the whole day were the four Ash trees standing majestically. They give the garden structure and are a valuable home and food source to all sorts of wildlife. As with all trees, the older they get the more valuable they become in so many ways.

So you'll understand my affection for them and my worry about the effects of the dreaded Chalara fraxinia, or Ash Die-Back as it's quickly become known.
It would be so awful to lose them, and there's no way I could replace these wonderful specimens, even with a different species, in my lifetime. I've just got my fingers crossed. I've heard it said that mature trees could resist for years, so I can get going with my underplanting now so that we at least have some height in the garden if the Ashes eventually have to come down. As for the saplings at the end of the land, well I'll be surprised if they are still there in a couple of years.
Ash is by far the best wood for me to grow and coppice for fuel. I'd never rely on just one species, or plant up a monoculture, but I still need to have a bit of a rethink.

I just hope that, in ten years time, my ash wood is by some miracle coming from the trees at the end of the land and not the dead old trees near the farmhouse.

Wednesday 14th November 2012
Not the best start to a very stressful day.

Progress in the Copse



Wednesday 2nd May 2012
Another dull start to the day.

Every single tree I planted courtesy of Lincolnshire's Hedgerow and Small Woodlands Grant has survived. Peering down into those plastic tubes a variety of fresh green leaves peer back up. Some have even made it into the fresh air above the confines of their tubular home. So the plastic tubes, which cost about five times as much as the trees themselves, have done their job so far in protecting the young saplings from the ravages of the hares and the worst of the weather.

But there is one more threat. Believe it or not, the grass growing around them could kill them, competing for the soils resources but also emitting growth stunting chemicals. At the very least, it will seriously inhibit their growth. I could spray round the base of each tree, but this does not sit at all comfortably with my beliefs.
So instead, I will need to keep the area around each tree well mulched, excluding light and so excluding grass. My plan was to make good use of the grass mowings, but so far it's been too wet to try and collect them. I'm also using every paper feed bag or cardboard box which comes my way. Ugly, but they'll do the job, they'll rot down harmlessly and they can be covered with mulch when I get the chance.

A gentle stroll through the woods  listening to the dawn chorus is just a few years away!

Return of The Gurgle Monster



Wednesday 18th April 2012



Tuesday 17th April 2012





 



Friday 20th April 2012

Thursday 19th April 2012

On 5th April a hosepipe ban came into place.

Since then I've been unable to till the land to sow seeds.

Why? Because the ground is rock hard, set like concrete? Because it's too difficult to transport water to the seeds?

No! It's been too wet! Every single day it has rained. Water butts overfloweth. Even the bath which sits down near the chicken enclosure has filled up - that's about a foot of rain then.

For the first time, I've had to hunt slugs in the veg beds. In fact, this is the first time since we moved in that I've not been worried about watering the garden.

To be fair, before the April showers I had been worrying about the freshly sown broad beans and peas just sitting in dry soil.



So, with seed sowing put off for another week, what was I to do with my spare morning today?

How about dealing with this carnage...



Every time I go down into the meadow at the moment I am flushing hares, sometimes from right under my feet. Up till now they have only taken the very occasional nibble from the pines I have planted, but one of them has obviously developed gourmet tastes. So I gathered together what few stakes I had left, a pile of old bamboos, a roll of tree protection, hammer, staples and twine, and headed down into the meadow.



For the first time in a long time the ground actually squelched under my feet. As I drove in the stakes, I could hear the meadow's stomach rumbling below.

The Gurgle Monster has returned!

The strange gloopy, spongy noises which echo and ripple through the fenland soil as the water is sucked down below and into the dyke system. I have no idea why this happens, but it is a disconcerting experience when every footstep seems to send ripples out through the soil causing burbling, babbling and bubbling. Even more eerie when, alone in the middle of a field away from any other human, the ground starts to talk to you!

Feasting without Food Miles.




Tuesday 24th January 2012

The tree protection tubes have somewhat spoiled my traditional sunrise photo!





Wednesday 25th January 2012

         

Thursday 26th January 2012

A series of gloomy mornings. Tuesday was a washout, but at least it watered the newly planted trees and wet the ground for those to come. Wednesday was wet till 9, followed by a dry but occasionally windy and chilly day. Thursday was a good day to work outside.

Surging Forward With The Trees
Wednesday
After the morning rain, I carried on with the job of getting the trees planted. This was a satisfying task and the end was in sight. Today I aimed to plant half of the 175 trees still left. I started with an area of Ash trees in the furthest corner of the land, by the back dyke.
The Ash tree was not very familiar to me until I moved here, but it is the species which dominates the Lincolnshire landscape. Here on The Fens it obviously copes well with an exposed site! The four majestic Ash trees which tower over the garden here produce a plethora of seeds which attract hordes of birds. A charm of goldfinches are almost always to be found feeding precariously in the tallest branches. Often I look out on an autumn or winters day to see a gang of fieldfares and starlings swoop en masse from their elevated perch down into the adjacent field, only to all swoop back up to the safety of the trees a few minutes later. These four statuesque trees are dozens of years old and it will be a couple of decades before the newly planted trees produce their own bounty of seeds. Hopefully it will be sooner than that when we can begin to take a little firewood from them.
As I came back towards the farmouse, I introduced a few woodland shrubs to the Ash plantation, the odd blackthorn, guelder rose or crab apple. Then a few Field Maples, a few more, until this delightful old English species was dominant, with just the occasional Ash, and Dogwood and Dog Roses for the understorey.
Before I knew it the sun was on it's way down, the chickens and pigs needed their late afternoon feed, and I had been so engrossed in the task I had completely missed lunch myself!

Thursday
Only 94 to go! An early start and a determined attitude. I had enjoyed this task, but would be happy too when it was completed. The weather might not hold out much longer, and the young saplings would appreciate being in the ground sooner rather than later. In went the last few Field Maples, merging into an area of mixed Goat Willow, Rowan and Alder. Planting was very easy as the rain of Tuesday night had softened the ground perfectly. I worked straight through breakfast and lunch, and by 3.30 I was finished, with time to stand back and admire too. I was finished! 430 trees planted in a week. Not bad going!
Now to be patient. Another five years and it will resemble a young woodland. Another twenty years and I will be strolling through an established woodland in my retirement


Funny Old World
It's funny how things turn out. We have made the conscious decision, as far as is practical, to settle for the foods we have, rather than flown-in exotics from all over the world. The only exception to this is fruits, until our orchard and fruit bushes become productive enough to grow and process most of our own. Even then, in season we at least buy all our apples and plums locally from the farm gate (or scrump them from Don's, whose orchard is six years further down the line than mine!) I have written previously about keeping seasonal tastes special, something to look forward to.

Funny then that we should find ourselves this evening feasting on Jerusalem artichokes (more on this wonderful-to-grow veg at a later date), fennel bulbs, blanched baby beetroot leaves and beetroot. This following the celeriac and Hamburg parsley of the other day. Exotic ingredients all from the garden and harvested in the middle of winter.

Some of these you can buy year-round from the supermarket, bigger, cleaner, more uniform versions flown in from god knows where, though lacking the freshness and so the flavour of those straight from the garden. Some of these you'll never find in a supermarket, or you'll have to pay a fortune for. Either they are too knobbly to be convenient or they just don't store well enough for the supermarkets. Some would just never make it onto the shelves because of minor imperfections, or being the wrong size. Yet others are not commercially viable on  a large scale.

It infuriates me! If only we had to pay for all the hidden costs of our food we might make some far better and healthier choices.

A New Bird For The Farm List!!!

All day I planted trees with my binoculars hung on a fencepost nearby. The only times I stopped briefly were to scan through the gulls which flew to and fro all day. A few of those northern white-winged gulls which recently flooded into the Northwest of the country have begun appearing down south, but none yet over the farm. Still, a good excuse to stop and take in a small piece of the countryside every now and again.

With an hour left before dark, I decided to move the twenty bags of animal food down to the bins by the chickens and pigs. Typical... No sooner do I abandon my binoculars than low toward me and straight over my head flies a large grey goose. Unusually it was not honking loudly, but it was clearly a Greylag Goose. Not a spectacular bird for the list, but a long overdue one for the farm. It continued in the direction of Peterborough, doubtless in a hurry to reach its intended roost site.

A Copse of our Own

Sunday 22nd January 2012

 For the briefest moment the rising sun peeked through a slither of a gap in the clouds this morning. The sky was a mix of ominous clouds sweeping quickly by interspersed with sky blue glimpses through.



Chilled Chickens

The chickens were strangely chilled out this morning. Unconcerned by my offers of food, they mooched around happily in their luxury enclosure. Perhaps they've accepted that for the moment they are to live within the very spacious confines of their fence. The wing-clipping seems to have worked, with only the guinea fowl and Chick of Elvis wandering. They never go far though without the back-up of the cockerel and the elder chickens. Since they started their worming treatment, their eggs are stronger shelled. We were finding a broken egg most days for a while. Although not of too much concern, it's not a good idea to let the chickens get a taste for egg!

A Woodland is Born

With the help of my wonderful Sue, we managed to plant a mixed copse of 175 trees today, complete with stakes and tree guards. Quite an achievement. This copse is designed to be more suitable to a slightly wetter area of land, so it is a mix of mainly birch with alder and rowan (also known as mountain ash, but doesn't actually need mountains!) All these species do well in wetter ground. This copse is the nearest to the farmhouse and orchard. The rowans will provide their berries and the birches can eventually be tapped for their sap. They are also decorative species, and I have interspersed them with other attractive shrubs and trees, such as crab apples, dogwood, dog rose and a couple of hollies. Alders and birches produce huge quantities of seed and are a favourite food of avian winter visitors such as siskins and redpolls.

At the moment it looks as if I've planted a forest of plastic tubes.

Should be more impressive in a few years time.

We finished protecting the last few trees under a glorious red sunset. When we got in, I realised just how much of a battering my poor hands had taken. It was as if they had been sandpapered... with an electric sander.

Wind in the Willows, Birches, Rowans, Alders...

Saturday 21st January 2012

The sun still did not show itself as it broke the horizon, but the sky was more promising for the day ahead.

Wind in the Willows, Birches, Rowans, Alders, Hazels, Crab Apples, Field Maples, Guelder Roses, Dog Roses, Ash trees, Dogwoods, Blackthorns...

We know when it's a windy day here. The sun comes up! Well, that's how it seems sometimes. A Westerly wind especially announces itself. The front door howls and whistles. Today was a breezy one - not unusual out here on The Fens. There's nothing to stop the airflow and it's better to embrace it rather than try to fight it. Important to remember that when ahead lies a weekend planting trees out on the most exposed parts of the farm. Today the wind swung round to a Northwesterly, bringing with it several squally showeres of decidedly chilly rain. So it was that I found myself huddled up in the lee of what remains of the haystack. But today's task was a "whatever the weather" task. The 430 trees which arrived too late to begin planting on Thursday now needed my attention.

What they'd look like in two years, five years or twenty years time is hard to imagine, so I like to drive stakes in where the trees are to go to get some sort of picture.

Since moving in to Swallow Farm, I have been keen to preserve the views across the surrounding farmland to the horizon. At the same time, there is a definite need to provide some element of shelter from the winds. The prevailing wind sweeps in from the Southwest, which is why whenever I stake a tree the stake goes on that side of the tree. So I have come up with a policy of breaking the airflow with a series of short hedgerows which still preserve the views as far as possible. I have planned the same for the new woodland areas, to allow breaks in the woodland through which to admire the openness of the landsape. Not only that, but I still need to be able to scan all around to look at the birds!

Our land is very long and thin, running west to east, so I have also used the perspective as far as possible to plant as many trees as possible and still keep open the eastern horizon where the sun comes up. 

I managed to place 430 stakes in a morning. In the afternoon I began the daunting task of planting the trees. Each one is barely a slip, so they can go into a T-shaped slit in the ground made with the spade ... in theory. The bare root saplings need their roots protecting from drying out until just before planting, so I take about 25 out at a time and transport them around in a bucket of water, giving them one final dip before planting. Under no circumstances should they be stored with the roots submerged long term. They will drown.

I planted a single species area of hazels, planted fairly close together so that when I eventually coppice them they grow up nice and straight . If I had a larger area I would intersperse the occasional ash tree to grow above them as standard trees. Then a line of Scots Pines on the exposed side of the land to eventually provide a majestic windbelt. Finally 50 Sycamores, for quick growth and quick coppice. The only species in this woodland scheme which is non-native, sycamore has been quick to adapt to life in Britain, and our native buglife has been quick to learn to exploit sycamore in return. One of its main benefits is that it is reputedly immune from rabbit grazing. Ultimately though, sycamores on the coast seem to act as a magnet for warblers on migration, so maybe one day my small migrant trap might attract something unusual like a Yellow-browed Warbler. Everything I plant has at least one purpose, be it for a crop, visual attraction or for the wildlife.

Has Anyone Seen a White Chicken?

Thursday 19th January 2012

Another grey start to the day. Today was an excellent day. Lots of different jobs.

Chicken Wings
I started with the chicken wings. Time will be soon when the chickens cannot be allowed to have free roam in the veg plot. I hope instead to be able to let them wander in the meadow and orchard, but this will not work out if they are still eminently capable of hopping any fence up to 6 foot high. Also this week they are being treated for worms and are supposed to only eat the treated food (as far as possible). Four birds in particular, beautiful girls who have completed their moult and have a beautiful set of new feathers, have hopped the fence every morning even before I'm up. Clipping their wings is a simple process, no more painful than clipping your toenails, as long as it's done properly. It's actually better to only clip the feathers on one wing, as this affects the birds flight balance. Otherwise they just flap really hard. Three hands help in this task, one to gently hold the chicken, one to spread out the wing, and one for the scissors to snip off most of the primary feathers - not too short though, otherwise it's like cutting too much off your toenails - painful for the chicken.
The first chicken, Mrs Brown, was no trouble. Chestnut was next and was n problem as she's always been the friendliest and tamest. After that, the rest had cottoned on to what was happening and quickly scarpered off without even eating their morning food ration. I managed to take one by surprise later in the morning as she sat to lay. The rest will have to wait. This is no problem, as it will be better to do it once all their feathers have grown back in anyway.

Has Anyone Seen A White Chicken?
As if to celebrate it's evasive manoeuvres our youngest hen, Chick of Elvis, completely vanished this afternoon! I searched everywhere, counted the others several times, searched the whole farm again. Nothing! Surely she couldn't have been taken by a predator. I'd been outside all day and would surely have heard the commotion or found a scatter of white feathers. Maybe she's wandered into one of the dykes, or even over the road, tempted by the sound of Don's lone bantam cockerel.  Surely I didn't spook them that much this morning?

A Pile of Ash

Last week a professional team moved in to lop the giant Ash trees in Don's garden. They even put traffic lights on the road for a few hours. Don was left with a huge pile of logs, branches and brushwood and has been busy the last few days loading his tractor trailer with the smaller pieces and preparing for the monster of all fires. He very kindly asked me if I'd like some of the medium-sized logs to cut up for our wood burning stove. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I changed my priorities for the rest of the morning. Don is very generous and let me take a whole trailer full. I didn't want to take advantage. Ash makes excellent firewood as it will burn green. Like any wood it is even better left to season, and provides a welcome temporary home and shelter for a wealth of wildlife. The wren and robin were hopping in and out of the woodpile within minutes of me unloading it.

The rest of the day was devoted to pottering around, pruning and tidying up, a spot of weeding, a bit of digging. I even got a line of old raspberries and miscellaneous fruit bushes dug up from the rough ground along the dyke, where a previous owner had planted them and then forgotten about them. This is a job which had been on my list for quite a while. They are dormant at this time of year, so it's a good time to move them.

A New Nest

The final chicken feed of the day. The chickens appreciate some wheat or, as a treat, mixed corn before they go to bed. Incidentally, feeding chickens too much corn is apparently a bit like feeding a teenager too many McDonalds. So "corn-fed chicken" may sound a friendlier way to eat chickens but access to pasture, weeds and insects is far, far better. "Free-range" does not guarantee this, not by any means.

As I opened the shed I noticed a bundle of white feathers perched snugly between the hay bales and the wall of the shed. Chick Of Elvis! Sat on 2 eggs. She scarpered when I got close, but returned later to lay a third egg. She didn't stay on the eggs, but has clearly decided not to use the luxury facilities I have done my very best to provide. She would not stay to pose for photos, but here's her new nest site.

The Trees Arrive
Too late in the day to get started, 430 trees arrived along with an equivalent number of stakes and guards. Thanks to Lincolnshire Council's Hedgerows and Small Woodlands Grant, these cost me a fraction of how much they would otherwise. A little job for the weekend then. By the time they're planted, I will have introduced over 700 trees to the farm!

A Ghostly Apparition

Sunday 8th January 2012
A sunrise not worth getting up for!

A dash of winter colour
A pleasantly peaceful, still day spent planting some very decorative dogwoods and willows. I plan to coppice these for some unusual garden sticks in the future, maybe an exploration into hurdle making and basketry too. They should be easy to propagate so the next batch will only cost me a little patience waiting for the cuttings to root and begin sprouting new growth.

I am generally happy with my own company, especially when lost in my work outside, but it was nice to have Sue working alongside me today.

Evening wildlife extravaganza
Today's main excitement all happened in the gloom.  The dramatic sunset prompted me to take a  wander round the land perusing my planting work of the last few days. The rule at the moment is never to pass the haystack without bringing back a bale or two of hay. As I dutifully loaded the wheelbarrow with a couple of bales a ghostly barn owl appeared out of the murk. Now this would not have been a notable event when we first moved in and the farm's rodents were firmly on the menu of every local owl. In fact, up to three barn owls used to roost in the stables, but this was my first sighting of one for over half a year. I suspect that last year's exceptionally long, cold winter followed by three months of drought did for the local breeding birds, but there are still plenty in the area so I'm sure the gap will be filled sooner or later.
This was not my last surprise of the day from Mother Nature. As  I unloaded the hay bales next to the asparagus bed, ready for mulching in early spring, a pair of bright eyes flashed open at me then closed again. In the increasing gloom, I peered into my hand to realise I had inadvertently disturbed three peacock butterflies from their winter hibernation. Astonishing to ponder how such a delicate creature can survive an English winter. No point putting them back in the haystack, as they would only get disturbed again, so I gently placed them in a crevice among the hay bales in the stables. Hopefully they will find their way to the bottom and survive to brighten up the spring.
There was still time for another long absent visitor to put in an appearance. The familiar call of a Little Owl came from one of the large ash trees which attract so many birds into the garden. Last winter, a pair of Little Owls were nightly visitors and often came calling well before dark. They moved on (or perhaps just became very secretive) in the springtime, presumably to raise their chicks, and so far this year I've only heard them calling from Don's garden over the road. Let's hope I get to see plenty more of both these owl species in the coming months. They are most welcome visitors to the farm.

Magical Morning

 Saturday 7th January 2012.

Nearly missed my sunset photo this morning. Not that I woke up late, just dawdling down to the spot where I take my photos from, raising my binoculars once too often. It's so warm the great tits and collared doves have started singing their springtime songs.

Sometimes you get two sunrises as a thin line of cloud often hugs the horizon. The second can be more dramatic as the sun tips its head above the cloud.

This is not unusual enough to justify the title of this post though.

That honour goes to the magical Merlin which cut through the morning air and scythed its way across the meadow. These diminutive falcons are masters of flight, capable of amazing speed and agility, performing astonishing acrobatics and twists and turns in pursuit of their unlucky prey. As it crossed the field towards the meridian obelisk (it's in that clump of 3 tall trees you can see in the top left picture) flocks of finches, starlings and woodpigeons split apart in blind panic and scattered like exploding fireworks. This is only the second merlin I've seen here. If it stays, it'll only be for the winter as it breeds in more northern climes. The local meadow pipits, which did not show themselves this morning, would probably rather it moves on before then!

After that exciting start to the day, I set to work planting trees. I finished putting in the edible hedge, then a greengage to replace the one tree I Iost last year (still clinging on to the hope that it comes back). Next, a line of poplars, then ten small-leaved limes and ten sweet chestnuts. These multipurpose trees are scattered around the veg plot, the forest garden and the orchard. Some I shall coppice to make harvesting easier and to produce poles. Others can grow to their full size and grandeur.

I made slower progress than I planned today, and when darkness halted my outdoor work for the day, I was fast asleep within 20 minutes! I woke up mildly aching, but in a good way. Anyone who's done a day's hard physical work in the open air will know the feeling I mean.

Tomorrow, the birches, dogwoods, willows and the evergreens. That's the aim. If it doesn't quite work out, there's always another day... Except I found out today that the next 400 trees will be arriving on 19th of this month!!

Hedgerow Jam, Here We Come.

The courier van appeared at 11 o'clock. I'd just finished mending the wheelbarrow and had started to move the hay stack. Anyway, all jobs have been put on hold, since from experience it is important to get bareroot trees planted as soon as possible, especially if you can take advantage of good weather and good soil conditions.
I impatiently opened the 4 packages to check the order. I was impressed with the quality of the trees I received. Thanks to Ashridge Nurseries of Castle Cary. I was also reminded that I did not have 137 trees to plant. I had 188! One of the items was actually a whole hedge.

Here's what 188 trees look like.

Hopefully in a couple of years they'll be looking a little more impressive.
So, after changing my mind several times about the location of the edible hedge, I prepared the ground and set to planting. By dark I'd managed to get 50 trees in. The last went in by feel rather than sight. In a few years the jams and jellies will be flooding out courtesy of this hedgerow. Just imagine what I can concoct with elder berries, hazelnuts, wild pears, dog rose hips, blackberries, sloes, hawthorn hips, crab apples and cherry plums.

Other stuff
Another cow got onto the road today. They provide an excellent traffic calming measure!

Chickens and Carbon Offsetting.

Friday 6^th January 2012

Chicken talk
What a beautiful morning. The air was clear, a joy to breathe in. Most importantly, the air was still after endless gales. A pheasant strolled across the meadow, its rich rust and coppery tones beautifully lit by the early sun. There was a shooting party out yesterday, so this one was obviously either lucky or had outwitted them. A light frost touched the ground and a wafer thin layer of ice floated over the surface of the chicken drinkers. A light prod did the job of breaking it. I’m sure a thoughtful chicken could have done the same job with a hefty peck, but they never seem to think of it. Sorry if it’s too much detail, but this type of morning is perfect for picking over the grass in the chicken complex. Their valuable droppings, lightly frozen, are like plucking chicken nuggets from the carton (not that I ever do this). I only wish I could train them where to leave their deposits!

No eggs first thing today. Probably because one of the hutches from the chicken village has been removed for repair.

Part of the chicken village.

Chickens like to sort out their pecking order (who roosts in which hut, which perch, who goes in first, second, third...oh yes, they are certainly creatures of habit and they don’t like change. I’ve also noticed that they seem to lay a little later if the night is cold or wet. But in fairness to the girls, it has to be said they have laid brilliantly so far this winter. They seem to be the only chickens for miles around that have continued to lay. Not sure if they’re supposed to, but we’ve been getting between 5 and 8 eggs a day from 9 laying hens, which would not be bad in the height of summer. And now that the days are slowly getting longer, some of the eggs are huge. No wonder the chickens walk funny! I’d like to think this is because they have plenty of space and freedom and have been topping up their greens and protein intake in the veg garden. They certainly like the sorrel plants, which is surprising as the leaves are as sharp as a lemon.

To keep them healthy, they get a dash of cider vinegar in their water for the first week of every month. They seem to enjoy this liquid and it does seem to keep them in good condition. I wonder if there is a link with the acid content of the sorrel plants too. Anyway, next year I plan to grow them their own patch of favourite plants - sorrel, cabbage, chard, fat hen, as well as a lot of garlic since I’ve heard this is beneficial to their health. Every 6 months though, I like to treat them for internal parasites properly, so yesterday I ordered some Flubenvet for them. This sorts out any problems and their is no withdrawal period from eating the eggs. I am trying the stronger mix, normally reserved for bigger flocks, as it works out a lot cheaper. I just need to measure it carefully.

Carbon Offsetting
I received an e-mail last night to say that a consignment of trees will be delivered today, so that’s my weekend sorted out. 137 treees to plant. I have another order of 400 trees to come this winter, courtesy of Lincolnshire’s Hedgerow and Small Woodland Grant Scheme. This order is for the more ornamental and decorative species - still mostly native. I have small-leaved limes which I hope to coppice and harvest the leaves for salads. They will also eventually contribute greatly to tasty honey from the bees. I have a native edible hedgerow too, which will go along the edge of the forest garden - a mix known as “Elspeth Thompson’s Edible Hedging” - sounds like one of those Victorian quack doctor concoctions. Also a line of poplar trees, for shelter and because they make such a great landscape feature on the flat Fens. Some decorative dogwoods and willows too, which will be harvested for wood and for willow withies to make hurdles and simple baskets. Since each small offcut is easy to grow into a new tree, these may end up on my produce list. Then there’s the larches, pines, spruces and firs which I like to plant for variety. Who knows, maybe one day they’ll attract a coal tit into the garden. These trees will pay for themselves as soon as the first is big enough to be used as a Christmas tree.

Before these trees arrive, I am hoping to move the old haystack inside. The hay is a couple of years old now, so needs to be used, and the polythene covering is ugly and can be reused to cover a couple of compost heaps so they warm up. I have read that a hay mulch is much appreciated by asparagus, so I’ll give that a try too. Oh...and that chicken hutch needs mending.

Bird stuff
The feeders were more active this morning. Lots of house sparrows, chaffinches, blue and great tits in the hedge and at the feeders. On a national scale, the recent high winds have brought a glut of arctic gulls, into the West of the country. Hopefully some of these will gradually start to appear over on our side, so for the next couple of months I shall be paying more attention to the gulls which fly over the farm on their way to and from The Wash every morning and evening. I’d love to have a white-winger (Glaucous or Iceland Gull) on my garden list.