Monthly Archives: April 2015

Chicken Run II

Where is that drill bit?
Where is that drill bit?

The major event this Easter has been the return of Chickens to the estate.  After a few site meetings Jim had delivered the posts and wire and between us we had dug three-quarters of the way around the area to be able to dig the fence in.  The gate was a slight issue as we needed to make one, so Jim and I suggested to the OM that he might like to dust off his old woodworking skills and throw one together.  He demurred although he did have what Jim and I both agreed was a good idea to hang the non-existent door from the end of the cow stall instead of securing a square post.  TOM decided to advise me on the size of drill bits, wood and other practical matters to aid me in my task.  “They are in the top shed” he told me.  Such instructions of little use.  He might as well have said they were on Mars.  I would have had more chance of locating them in outer space than in the heaps of old tools, wood and machinery in his shed.

“Do you think you can find them for me?” I asked.  He decided he could – and duly did – thus saving me a frustrating search and giving him another thirty yards of exercise.  A win-win, by my reckoning.

So by the Friday afternoon we had a wall plate and three trenches dug when Jim arrived for the main construction session.  Jim and I work well together.  He has the experience and the right  sanguine attitude towards the OM who pays him for his labour, and I am happy to agree with whatever Jim says and to offer what muscle I can muster.

Posts in
Posts in

It started reasonably well with the acquisition of tools:  metal spike and sledgehammer to the fore.  The OM was keen to tell us that the sledgehammer had been acquired from Yeovilton Air Base in 1962/3 when he was clearing the runway of ice (my first winter was a hard one I am told).  A legendary piece of equipment which promptly broke as we hammered in the first post.  We resumed 10 minutes later with Jim’s tools and cracked on with the job in hand.  Incredibly we managed to get posts and netting up and a strand of supporting wire too.   With only two lengths of wire to go, Jim left me to sort it the next morning but with a warning that it would be a two person job as the wire could get “twisted as fuck” if you did not feed it out carefully.  I took this as a serious piece of advice.  Jim does not often use strong language in my experience.

Gate - constructed by the author - not his father
Gate – constructed by the author – not his father

It only took an hour or two with Verity the next morning to make the run secure.  Which was just as well, as I had arranged to collect the hens that afternoon.  This is the third time that we have sourced chickens from Dorset Hens and they never fail to deliver.  They have a great range of hybrids of various hues, and although after a busy Easter there was not a great choice, we took an eclectic foursome of a Mottled Leghorn, an Amber Star, a Bova Nera and a Colombian Blacktail.   They were in a crate waiting for us when we arrived and the owner grabbed them two at a time to put them in the back of our car (in the dog crate).  As she took the Leghorn she muttered a warning under her breath that this was “a little bastard”.  Or at least that was what I thought I heard.  She actually said “this is the fastest”.  Ok – got ya.

VB and I returned with our clucking cargo and started to unload them. When the OM came up the yard I assumed it was to take a look at the new arrivals, but it turned out the more pressing matter for him was to print off a boarding pass for his impending flight to Newcastle – in three weeks’ time.  I politely suggested I would take a look later.  For the moment I wanted to get my hens settled in….

And so the hens are in.  And they have not hung about, with one already laying (three in total so far) and we have also managed to discourage either dog from getting too interested in the chickens too.  If Ella gets the wrong side of the fence, it will be carnage.  The last time we had hens she was only a puppy but managed to get into the old run, to which I was alerted when I heard one hen shouting “f-koff!, f-koff!”  Ella had the bird in her mouth, but fortunately did not deliver the coup de gras on that occasion.  I don’t think she would be quite so gentle now…

April Unfurls

Easter Buns
My Easter Buns

It’s Easter and bunnies are very much of the moment around here as Ella once again caught her very own Easter Bunny when VB took her for a walk. In Ella’s defence (and the rabbit’s for getting caught by a lugubrious black lab in open grassland twenty hops from the safety of the burrow) there is a lot of myxomatosis around at the moment. So perhaps Ella is doing a merciful task putting rabbits beyond pain before they become too sick. A canine Dignitas for rabbits – though not so dignified for Verity who struggled to get her retriever to drop the still warm, possibly breathing, rabbit.

Who's been digging in my bed?
Who’s been digging in my bed?

Down the garden there was evidence of rabbits in the garden as one part of the chicken wire seemed to have been pushed down before a couple of random holes were dug in the onions.  No onions were harmed in the skirmish but I have since got another couple of rolls of chicken wire from Swift Huts and renewed the rabbit proof fencing around both veg patches.

The  main item on the list of jobs is PLANTING.  The greenhouse is fit to bursting with seed trays full of Broad Beans,  Cabbages, Curly Kale, Cavalo Nero, Kohl Rabi, Leeks, Mangetout, Sugar Snap Peas, Peas, Purple Sprouting, Butternut Squash, Uchiki Kuri Squash, Sweet Peppers, Chilli Peppers, Tomatoes, Coriander, Basil and Aubergines.

Old Faithful
Old Faithful

In addition to a mass of full seed trays, another sure sign of spring is the sound of the rotovator. The old Howard never fails you.  It can sit in the Cow Stall all winter, unloved and seemingly forgotten, but comes out in the spring like a Grizzly Bear from hibernation ready to take all before it.  It never fails to start and apparently needs no maintenance.  It is a marvel.  Or so I was saying as the clutch went half way through digging the salad bed….

I had a feeling it would be easy to mend, but neither myself nor Jim could see it so I was forced to ask the OM to tell me how to re-attach the wire.  I am increasingly worried by his lack of mobility and unwillingness to walk further than the garage and back, but such was the importance of the issue, he made it down the garden to stand on one side of the chicken wire and instruct me on how to mend the machine.  Fortunately it was done in a trice and hopefully the exercise did him good

In the main veg patch I have gone all “No Dig” this year, with the cardboard  keeping the weeds down, so I was able to plant the spuds with relative ease.  I have a combination of Belle de Fontenay, International Kidney, Cherie, Pink Fir Apple, Sarpo Mira and Sarpo Una.  It looks pretty good – apart from the cardboard bits.  While digging them I got an ear worm of “No Surprises” by Radiohead…”A heart that’s full up like a landfill…”

But this job is not going to kill me – it’s what makes me feel alive.

Spring Clean

Seen Better Days
Seen Better Days

In the past two weeks we have had a major eclipse, the term has finished at school and Parliament has been dissolved to make way for the General Election.  All worthy or exciting events, but frankly not as exciting for this midlife green fingered gopher as the opportunity to get out in the garden and actually get some stuff done.  So while the leaders debate who has failed whom, gongs are given out at school for adding up really quickly or colouring between the lines and the moon tries to blot out the sun, it is good to address  important issues like cleaning the greenhouse which, as always at this time of year, lives up to its billing as – literally – a green house, such is the mould on the glass.  But a quick dose of Jeyes fluid and a spray with the hose pipe and an afternoon’s work has seen off twelve months advancing algae.

Birdcatcher
Birdcatcher

While Mrs B and I were working on ridding one airborne invader from the garden the faithful Lab-Retriever was working a little riddance of her own for another airborne invader.  Ella just does not get the fact that as a Retriever (or Labrador – whatever half of her genetic makeup is taking precedence at the time) she really ought to wait till a bird is shot before bringing it back.  She managed to flush out a pheasant that had taken up temporary residence in the garden and took up the challenge of downing the bird.  I guess, for a dog that is obsessed with squirrels and is constantly trying to work out ways of retrieving them from the branches, the chance to snatch a bird is a rare opportunity for hope to triumph over commonsense expectation.  So despite our demands to the contrary, Ella rampaged through shrub and border in her quest and triumphantly brought the bird back to us.  A rare victory for canine over avian, though pheasants barely qualify as flying birds  (certainly not as part of  Noel Gallagher’s band), but that is why we do not have cats, as we value the bird life around here too much.

Higgledy Sweet Peas
Higgledy Sweet Peas

The past couple of weeks have been spent planting a few seeds and planning our flower growing – at which point a big “shout out” for my new BGF (best gardening friend) at Higgledy Garden.  I have just discovered this fab website which can cater for all our flower seed needs as well as entertaining us with regular blog and Facebook posts.  I bought an excellent value selection of sweet peas from Ben and he threw in a packet of nicotiana for good measure.  The sweet peas are in and doing well in the sparkling greenhouse and I will no doubt be picking out nicotiana soon.  The scent around the garden come July should be intoxicating.