Saturday, January 16, 2016

All growed up now

Jenga, isn't he gorgeous?
It happened with a blink of an eye. 

One minute Jenga was on Canasta's back with some random fluttering, and then he was off pecking around leaving her and me, a bit stunned. I'd heard chicken sex could be like that. Now, I knew. 
My velociraptors
The Golden Age of the Velociraptors has passed, as I knew it would. Gone are the days when the four of them paraded around fields and gardens together. Jenga discovered sex. And boy does he ever like it.

Within days, he de-flowered Z's four layers who were cloistered in the kitchen garden. The first I knew of his dalliance was my three girls looking very pissed off, in the greenhouse, no Jenga in sight. This led to Boy and I frantically searching for find him strutting around and four knackered hens in the kitchen garden.
The first oeuff!
My girls in the meantime have started laying. A bit small compared to Z's adults, but not bad going for the first efforts. Like hers, massive yolk, small amount of white. Since they started producing, I let them out mid-morning, rather than first thing. I don't want them laying away. Chicks would be a bad idea given the closeness of the genetic material, plus, that's a whole world of hurt right there.

Today, is a proper winter's day. Bright sunshine, frost on the ground. After the week's poor weather I thought everyone would like a quick wander around, so both flocks are out. I let mine out; then fed Z's teeny-boppers in the greenhouse; let her flock out and fed the barn cats.

I haven't seen Z's Cocky and Jenga interact, but given the flocks are mixing, introductions must have been made. There's been no squawking or feathers flung about, so things must have been settled fairly amicably. 

It seems this summer I will be chasing after laying hens. We really don't want a repeat of last year. 

Walking up the drive back to my house, Jenga was hot-footing it over to the main flock. I did my best to coax him back, but he was determined and I figured he'd head over anyway. My girls were still in the garden pecking about. I got inside and glanced over to see Jenga chasing one of Z's hens. I shucked my boots off, peeled off my coat, walk back into the front room and looked outside.

It took me a few moments to stop laughing.

My girls rounded Jenga up as effectively as riot police herding a dissident, and marched him off into the kitchen garden!

He might wear the trousers in that relationship, but they choose the colour.

Monday, January 11, 2016

Dear Jeremy Hunt

If it's okay with you, I'd really like you to stop pissing off the doctors and nurses who work in the NHS.

You see my nearest and dearest has been diagnosed with urothelial cancer that's buggering up a kidney and may possibly be wending its way through his lymphatic system as I type.

The thing is, the surgeons, doctors and nurses who have been dealing with us, have been nothing short of brilliant. They have been professional, courteous and kind. And tired.

Did I mention tired?

One of the things you have to understand is that while Dave might not be anything other than a statistic to you, he means more to me than I can possibly say. I'm a selfish woman and I like being with Dave, mostly because he understands and accepts me more than any other human being who walks/ed this planet. We have only been together for over four years. He's too awesome a boyfriend. Who else would give me a Ginvent Calendar for the festive season *and* a cordless drill and screw driver set on Christmas Day? Who else thinks that I'm a lovely human being but loves me for my Crazy? We've got camping trips to plan, cycling routes to explore, many more cuddles to have. I'm just not done with him yet.

It's crucially important to me that the surgeon who is up to their elbows in my man's cavity is focused on the job at hand. Not counting the minutes when they can have their next caffeine hit because it's 3 am and they've got to assess another two patients who might also need surgery before they're done. 

When the nurses come to take his bloods, check his BP and ensure he's recovering as he should be after his treatment, I'd like them not to be worried about their childcare and how they're going to make rent.

I want the multi-disciplinary team who look at Dave's notes to make brilliant decisions, because they are in the best shape they can be personally and professionally. 

And you sir, are creating a distraction.

Stop it. 

I support the junior doctors' strike action and will continue to do so because Dave is not a number to me and I need him to be well.

Saturday, January 09, 2016

Quick swap over

Just to let you know I am blogging again on definitely beautiful

Let me know if you want in, or if you have problems logging in and I will attempt to sort it out. Hopefully, the technology will work without too much hassle, my patience is short with such things.

Hugs to you all!

Life Post-Exhibition

Hey, did you hear? I had an exhibition! No really, I did! It was an amazing experience. From the end of August to the end of the exhibiti...