Goosey, Goosey, Goosey, Goosey, Gander

Sunday 30th Decmber 2012
Happy Birthday Little Sis!

Goosey Goosey Gander, wither shall I wander,
Upstairs, downstairs and in my lady's chamber
There I met an old man who wouldn't say his prayers,
I took him by the left leg and threw him down the stairs.

 

As a child I knew many nursery rhymes, but never did I actually pay any attention to the words. It's a pattern I've continued into adult life. Even if, by some freak of coincidence, I actually know more than the chorus line of a song, I can guarantee I'll never have paid any heed to the meaning of the words.

 

Goosey Goosey Gander ... Cromwell's soldiers who marched in goose step... searching every room of the house...for the old man...the Catholic priest who would only say his prayers in Latin...to execute!

 

 



Nothing quite so sinister about today's goose story I'm afraid. For a while I'd been wondering how to put our three ganders to best use. Argumentative. Probably too old to eat. But quite effective lawnmowers, guards and potential fathers of golden eggs, or at least eggs for eating, sale or hatching.

 

So I was pleased to find, the other day, an advert for Embden geese going for a tenner each. A couple of messages and a phone call later and I had secured myself four females. A very good find.

 

All I had to do was pick them up from up the coast in East Lincolnshire. This was a job for the posh trailer, not the horse box a friend always kindly lends me. But the posh trailer was unavailable again, so it was onto Plan B - the back of the car, lined with stock fence and cardboard and generously packed with straw.

Last time we transported geese in the back of the car, we were not quite so well prepared and they ended up in the front!

 

But the trek up country found us picking up four quite petite, quiet and placid geese. Beautiful, piercing blue eyes too. We hardly even heard them all the way back.

 

 

 

 

 



 I had already planned that they would go straight into a newly prepared stable. More timid than the previous geese, these ones needed carrying out of the back of the car! But they settled in well and seemed to approve of their new surroundings.

Meanwhile, the three boys fed in the veg garden, unaware of the new arrivals. I left it till almost dark before calling them into the stables - sometimes they come to my call, but more often they need driving in (that's driving in the old sense, not in a car). I march them at pace, so they don't have time to get distracted or to divert, through the veg garden gate, into the stable yard, turn left into the stable block and sharp left into their roosting room safe for the night. But today was different. The sharp left led to a closed stable door. Instead, they were coaxed anxiously to the end stable where they clapped eyes on the new arrivals. This plan seemed to work well. The established geese were thrown by the change of routine and the new dwelling. This made them less boisterous. Not only that, but there was a gang of four geese already there. They were outnumbered. And so first contact was made without any major arguments.

 

First contact.

Of course, there's till lonesome George to worry about. He has taken the loss of his mate to a fox very badly and has found no sympathy from the other two. He needed carrying into the new stable and stood on his own in a corner. I am hoping that the introcuction of four ladies may change the dynamics of the goose flock, but if he is still unhappy we will seek a new home for him.

 

 

 

Mischief and Consternation at Roost Time

Saturday 29th December 2012
After a night of howling winds,  
a glimpse of early morning sun before the rain set in.

For 45 minutes I stood in the cold tonight as the light faded to a gloom. 45 minutes waiting for the chickens, ducks and guinea fowl to put themselves away. 45 minutes while one of the guineas decided that no chicken, not even the largest and fiercest of the young cockerels, was going to get into their house without a severe dose of hassle.














There is a very complicated social hierarchy to be followed at roosting time. There's an order to be followed as the chickens enter their various houses. And each one needs to settle into position inside before the next can go in.

Now all this ceremony is fine and dandy until someone decides to do something different, to change houses for the night or turn up late. As soon as something changes, the whole process takes considerably longer, usually as I stand patiently, freezing or getting soaked, as various chickens go to roost only to emerge again, not happy with the order of things.


So you can imagine the consternation tonight as the mischievous guinea fowl decided to really put the cat among the pigeons (maybe not the most accurate of sayings to use). But then the guinea fowl have a tendency to take great delight in others' chaos. On the odd occasion that the roosting order goes awry, there will often be a cockerel left out, unsure whether to enter the coop or not. I'll often try to speed up proceedings by following said chicken round and round the chicken house, hoping that each time it passes the door it will take the opportunity to duck in and avoid my unwanted attention. While all this is going on, a dozen guinea fowl crane their necks, cackling and calling like observers at a gladiatorial contest.


A dawn flyover enlivened a grey sky on 28th

Thursday 27th December 2012
One of a series of featureless, grey sunrises

At least we're getting eggs again now. Between three and seven a day - omelette breakfasts again. Trudging around in the mud seems all the more worthwhile when there's a reasonable chance of a find in every hen house.

Still Here (and rejuvenated)

 

Even the Huffington Post got it wrong!
For I am still here. More importantly, so is this... the sun... and... the world



Wednesday 26th December 2012
Boxing Day

The first proper sunrise for quite some time and it did a lot to lift my spirits.
You may remember a couple of weeks ago I alluded to having man flu. Well, it's bugged me ever since. Clearly a severe case, as even Sue has got it now, and she never gets ill. So all our plans to get on with the house while the builder takes a break have been scuppered as neither of us has had an ounce of energy.
Even getting up for the sunrise, late as it is at the moment, has proved a challenge. Yesterday was a very subdued Christmas day, though we did treat ourselves to an untraditional leg of lamb which was absolutely mouth-watering. I guess we're not really breaking with tradition, as we couldn't have chosen anything more special than a leg of our very own reared lamb. I think it was a front leg, though I didn't check if it was left or right. And no idea whether it came from Number Ten or Number Eighteen.

Getting back to the matter, touch wood I finally felt better today and got myself busy catching up with things. The water has receded a little, though the rain returned with vigour this afternoon.

First job was to plant a few cheap fruit trees I picked up a while ago. Not for the orchard these ones, but dotted around the more permanent beds in the veg plot and the soft fruit area. Just a couple of apples, pears, a plum and an apricot.

Next on the agenda - get the Piglets For Sale sign up. We've almost certainly shifted four or five of them, but nothing is signed and sealed yet. It hardly seems like seven weeks ago that I witnessed Daisy's third litter being born.









And so to the next job - clearing a room in the stables so we can separate Daisy from her litter. They've pretty much weaned themselves anyway and Daisy gets most grumpy when they steal all her food, then try to suckle from her as well! I'll bring the two baconers in to keep Daisy company. They've had enough of wallowing around in liquid mud and the ground needs time to recover.

 

Last job on the list was to begin rehousing the poultry.

The guinea fowl have, for some unknown reason, moved roost fences. I so wish they could discover that the Ash trees would afford them much better protection.

 

So I had a little move around of the houses. One of the old enclosures got dismantled so that the chickens now have a door straight through to the orchard. The duck house got moved to make way for the blue house which will become the new home for the Cream Legbar trio. Elvis has well and truly moved on from her ten chicks now and has gone back to old habits, spending most of her time sat on eggs clucking broodily. So as soon as the young Legbars start laying Elvis will be most grateful for some eggs to tend. I await our first blue egg with anticipation.

The ducks' house may have been moved today, but as soon as I have fixed on a new door they will be getting a brand new home. And they will be moved into the veg garden to start attacking the slugs. This will stop them muddying the chickens' drinking water too.

 

While I've got the woodwork gear out, I'll build a shelter for the chickens, somewhere dry for them to hang out. The gang led by the Welsummer cockerels have discovered the dry stables, but the others continue to get soggier and soggier!

 

And I have plans for the geese too. I have hopefully sourced four females to keep the boys company. The gander who lost his mate will be offered out, since the other two do pick on him and he genuinely seems very lonely.

 

 

So you'll see I am back in the swing of things. I'm looking forward to the final five sunrises of the year, hoping they are a bit better than yesterday's.

 

Tuesday 25th December 2012

And then, on January 1st, a sleep-in...Probably not!

 

Just no more crazy resolutions for next year.

 

 

Mayan Mayhem

A few days ago, most of the modern world felt fit to scorn at the ancient Mayan civilisation's prediction that the world would end imminently.
I'm writing this, you're reading it, and tonight a bloke with a long white beard will be visiting every house in the world to deliver presents down the chimney, with the aid of his flying reindeer.
So clearly those ancients got it all wrong, whereas we know much better.

But I'm not so sure we should be so smug. Bear with me and you'll see where I'm going with this one.



Sunday 23rd December 2012
Two sleeps till Christmas

The keen-eyed among you may have noticed that for three of the last five mornings I've not even bothered to take a photo of the sunrise, despite the fact that, like the Mayans, I've been conducting my own form of sun worship this year by watching every single sunrise.

But here's the thing. That infamous Mayan calendar which came to an end last Friday was based on the eternal (?) cycle of the sun rising every morning and setting every evening (at least in the Mayan part of the world).
Well, since Friday 21st December 2012 I have not seen the sun! Not just as it was scheduled to break the horizon, but not at all. Instead we have had incessant rain more akin to The Great Flood in another ancient story.
So maybe that Mayan end of the world was never going to happen in quite such a sudden manner as we envisaged. Just maybe it is a slower process. Has anyone actually seen the sun since last Friday?

Even the dry dyke has water in,
for the first time since we moved here.

The water just has nowhere to go.

Asparagus trenches or individual bathing pools for the geese?

And here's another thing. I just found this on the internet. Of course, if you're reading the repeat you are free to scorn for a second time!

24 December 2012

Christmas Eve To Mark The End Of The World?

Mayan Apocalypse Now Scheduled For December 24

http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2012/12/24/christmas-eve-end-world-mayan-apocalypse-december-24_n_2357962.html#s1872872&title=1806_

  

 

Eggs back online

Eggs for sale

Friday 21st December 2012

Here we are. The shortest day of the year. A measly seven and a half hours between sunrise and sunset.

When I think about this, about how the earth, the moon, the sun all interact, it makes me feel very small. I sort of know how it all works, but I couldn't really explain it. And I am happy with this situation. I don't need to understand it, I can just accept it and lead my life around it.

But there is a bigger question. One which I cannot answer.

How can a chicken, with a brain allegedly the size of a pinhead, know that the sun has gone down one minute later than yesterday?
For as soon as this happened, our chickens started laying again. From a paltry one egg a day, if we were lucky, suddenly we had 3 a day for the last two days and then, today, five eggs.

For the first time in a long while the egg-skelta is full and I am eating gorgeously yellow omelettes for breakfast.

The Strangest Electricity Cut

Wednesday 19th December 2012
A foggy start to the day

We've travelled to quite a few countries in our time and some of the poorer ones experience regular power cuts. But in this country they are an infrequent event. In London we expected the occasional power cut, maybe once every couple of years. If it was a really bad one it might last a couple of hours.
But since we've moved up to rural South Holland we have had numerous cuts to the supply. Every now and then the lights flick off, the cooker clock resets itself, the phone beeps. Often as not this lasts just a couple of seconds, but just occasionally it goes on longer. We put it down to living rural, though I can't really see why that should make our electricity supply less reliable.

However today we experienced something altogether more odd.

I went up into the loft to inspect the electician's work and was surprised by the dullness of the light up there. Perhaps he only had a 10W bulb to hand.
Back downstairs to find Sue complaining that we had a power cut and that only some things were working. I tried to explain that this was not possible and began worrying that the electician had done something terrible to our supply. It was as if the whole house was operating on about a tenth of the normal wattage. The lights came on...just. The phone was on, but not enough to be able to answer. The TV lights were on, but there was no signal.

This was very puzzling indeed.

Eventually I worked out what was happening. Yes, we had a power cut for an hour or so, as did the neighbours. The flicker of electricity that we did have was what was being produced by the panels on the roof. This is the amount of electricity which trickles into our supply every hour the sun is up. Of late I've spent more time than usual up in the loft and on a bright day there is a buzz up there, quite literally, the buzz of electricity being generated. Just another piece of the jigsaw.

Chocolate is named.

Tuesday 18th December 2012

Yesterday's sunset was 1 minute later than the day before. This is a significant point in the year, for the nights are no longer drawing in. The days will still get shorter, just for a while more, as the sun still rises later and later each morning.

Having commented a couple of days ago that the chocolate eggs seemed to have come to a halt almost as soon as they had started, guess what I discovered today! Yes, a beautiful dark brown egg. And in honour of these eggs, I have decided upon a name for our French Copper Marans hen.

From now on she will be known as Chocolate.

This is a big moment for her. For being named represents a promotion in the flock. And it's not just a promotion in our heads, for Chocolate has switched allegiance and joined Cocky's harem. This ensures her protection within the group of hens who stay together under the watchful eye of the old cockerel.

It will be interesting to see what happens as the other pullets come into lay over the next couple of months.

Chilling out



Monday 17th December 2012

 

Gerry is quite a nervous cat. Or perhaps I should say a particularly wary one. For in his life he has had to negotiate his way around many dangers; a variety of farm animals; tractors and combines; the hoover...

In particular, he is not at all keen on change, or on loud noises. So we were naturally concerned for him when the building work was due to start. How would he cope? Well, to be honest, it put him out of his stride for the first couple of weeks. He would hide up or wander around miaowing.

But as the realisation came upon him that actually this new challenge came with new opportunities, such as access to loft spaces and wall cavities previously beyond reach and undreamed of, he gradually came to accept the constant change, and even to tolerate the presence of the builders.

But the best time of all is when it's all gone quiet again and we can cosy up in the living room, fire roaring, world shut out.

 

Chill out time.

Elvis abandons family



Sunday 16th December 2012

A beautiful day, 8 degrees, no wind, no rain, no frost, no snow. Just right for cleaning out the chicken houses, a job which I don't particularly look forward to, but one which at least means I get to spend some quality time with the birds.

For as I empty each house of its old bedding and put in fresh straw and wood shavings, the guineafowl and the hens just love to go in there and scratch around, pecking at all the little insects which, if left to thrive under the straw, would probably become pests.




The hen Copper French Marans
has joined Cocky's gang.

I have noticed that the hen Copper French Marans has joined Cocky's gang - he clearly has more going for him than the younger cockerels, though maybe being allied to him keeps her safe from the advances of the group of strutting teenagers. Anyway, the fate of the younger cockerels is not a good one. It's doubtful they'll be needing to make any New Year resolutions!

Elvis's young family
- old enough to look after themselves



Elvis is back in the building.

Elvis, too, is looking forward to the future. She has left her gang of ten youngsters to fend for themselves and joined the harem again. Knowing her, it won't be long before she goes broody again. I won't let her sit on eggs though, as we do not need more hens at the moment. I would rather she started laying eggs for me, as they are still in very short supply. The chocolate eggs seem to have been short-lived, unless they are being deposited elsewhere in the garden. At least, though, two or three of the older hens have come back into lay.

Indoor Pigs, Outdoor Pigs

Saturday 15th December 2012
A warmer morning, and not raining.

Daisy and her new family are doing very well indeed. And so they should be, for the little ones have been pampered for their whole lives so far, kept in a stable lined with fresh straw and sheltered from the worst that winter can throw at them.
I prefer to keep pigs outside, for they are intelligent creatures who appreciate a rich environment. However, at this time of year the health of mum and family have to be considered. Daisy is beginning to lose some weight now, so it is a good thing that she'll only be feeding the piglets for another fortnight or so. After this, we'll give her a rest from having babies for a while so that she can get back into good condition.

Meanwhile, down in the pig pen, the last two survivors from the previous litter wallow around contentedly in the mud. They are an altogether different sight, but equally happy with their lot. They have a choice of two shelters (though they are gradually destroying one of them), each chosen according to wind direction it seems. And if they tire of wallowing up and down in the mud, almost belly deep in places, they can always head down the land to drier areas where they can still nuzzle around on solid ground.

It won't be long before they move onto the veg plot to root out any unharvested potatoes. They will be delighted to find a patch of mangel wurzels still in the ground too. If you're a regular reader of my blog, you'll know that the pigs should be very suspicious of such treats. For this move to a more decadent lifestyle is aimed at improving the taste of the meat.
Some time in the new year these two will become sausages and a good job too, as we have now completely run out of sausages for sale from their sisters who went off a while ago now. I am having to turn customers away and plenty of them are licking their lips in anticipation at these two going on their final journey!

Holed Up

Thursday 13th December 2012
6 below zero. That's 10 degrees warmer than our coldest morning last winter.



Friday 14th December 2012
A new weather front brings wind and rain.

You may presume from the title of this post that we have been severely affected by the winter weather. In the grip of  a very icy spell of weather, with temperatures as low as 6 below, life has just been ticking over on the smallholding front. I have been laid low with a heavy cold, whilst all around me the house has been shrinking!

The new downstairs bathroom
(old office). Not yet quite ready
for the new bathroom suite.

By that, I mean that the new kitchen furniture has been delivered before the old is ready to come out. Similarly a bath, shower enclosure, two lavs, two sinks, shower, taps etc were delivered on two pallets midweek, all awaiting the two new bathrooms to be ready to house them.


One day this will be a spacious country kitchen.
For now it is a bit of a building site,
filled with the new kitchen and the old kitchen.

So downstairs is now crammed with giant boxes, just to add to the dust and half finished floors, skirtings and ceilings. At least we have doors now. Jason has done a fantastic job constructing new doors out of the reclaimed pine boards. The extra effort has certainly been worth it, as the doors look like they could have been in place since the house was built, at least two hundred years ago.




Our bedroom! But no room for a bed.



The second bedroom,
complete with new floorboards
and new corner cupboard.

Upstairs shower room (to be)


























As if all this upheaval downstairs wasn't enough, Jason has also been busy laying new floorboards throughout upstairs - those fabulous 10inch wide reclaimed floorboards we got hold of from the salvage yard. This has meant moving all the furniture from room to room upstairs and has effectively confined us to the one room in the house which is relatively unaffected.

So we have spent the last few days holed up in the living room, cosy under the quilt in front of the fire.
Mind you, there's not been too many complaints from anyone, particularly Gerry who thinks this new arrangement is a cat's idea of purr-fection.

Meanwhile the dishwasher has packed up again - the third time is as many months, so we'll go without one now until we get the kitchen fitted after Christmas. The hoover has finally given up the ghost too and the pipe to the washing machine has sprung a leak!

But, on the whole, the building work has not been as bad as we had feared. We are now starting to be able to see elements of the finished product.

And for now we have a respite from building work until the New Year. We'll busy ourselves stripping wallpaper, painting ceilings and sanding floors before round 2 starts - Replacing the tile floors downstairs, completing the two new bathrooms and ripping out the old one, a new boiler and radiators, new windows, a couple of skylights ... so lots more fun to look forward to.