Cojones

(Is that a bad word? But it is the word I need). Slowly I settled back into the farm yesterday. I took a mental health day and decided not to talk to any humans. It was lovely.

The sun was out and so was I. Look at our sleeping kune kune. The most entertaining pigs.

Until they start sleeping Top and Tail, then things just get mean.

(As an aside for all you Fellowship Farmers, Tane has begun to grow his ..  um .. cajones .. literally as well as figuratively. This is what farming is about you know!!  Procreation!. But we will see.) 

Have you heard that saying let sleeping pigs lie?  Oh. Wait. It is dogs. Well never mind. This is a prime example. In a few more days we will know if Poppy is pregnant or not until then we will let this unusually relaxed sleeping pig lie.

While I was away (for TWO days) the chooks went into overdrive and are now laying at full speed.  Yesterday I found twenty fresh eggs. There are about fifty eggs waiting in the egg basket.   So now the pigs protein is sorted. Eggs from now on. 

Our wee herd of goats (I have decided that Freya looks like a camel) followed me across the quad to play in the wee field Tima was in last year.  This was one of those times I wished for a video camera on a stick. I had to walk with the minutest of steps, the kids stayed so close. You would have laughed out loud. They nibbled on weeds and grass and did what goats do.

The cats followed along behind and they all played in their playground for a while then slept in the sun for a while longer before I took them back to the barn for night time.  Without a mother they can’t stay out in the fields at night.

Not yet anyway.

The layer flock is now allowed out for a wee while in the late afternoon.  There were immediate cock fights though and old Peghorn (who lives in that field) got the worst of it. So I am going to just let the hens out in future and leave the roosters inside. Or lock up Peghorn. I have a broom I use for separating fighting cocks – it works the same for drafting hens. Peghorn is such a dear old fella.  That is him on the far right. One of these roosters almost killed him last year and he has limped ever since.  It is a catch 22 really.  Too many roosters. Needing the hens to get the grass. A few of these boys will be  destined for the freezer I think, as much as for the health of my hens as anything else.  Old roosters make the best stock. Not Peghorn though – he has a name.

I hope you have a lovely day.

your friend back on the farm

celi