Well, I'm sorry to report the demise of Mary Mad Chicken - she was very rocky on her legs last night and the hedgepig had pulled out a large proportion of her feathers; so I culled her last night.
RIP Mary, you will be sadly missed - for your determined campaign to get in to the house to eat the cat-food; for your patience in being picked up by a toddler determined to carry you round; and for your endearing habit of sitting on the side-board in the living room and looking at yourself in the mirror.
She was one of the founders of my flock and I only have her sister left of that generation. Time's fleeting chariot and all that is so much swifter in the poultry world. Bless.
Anyway. I have three dozen chicks hatching in the incubator as I speak; and seem to have made a dreadful error of judgement in the colour of the eggs I put in. I thought I could tell pretty well which were the barnevelder eggs and which aren't. But it transpires that that is not, actually, the case. I'm going to have to do some culling when they have finished hatching tomorrow.
And on the Palace Gates: Nenna is better; Leo is fine but bored; B is exhausted and someone has stolen all my bones and replaced them with something bendy.
I'm off fora kip.