Weekend no longer has the excitement of the end of the working week for me. I no longer work so each day is pretty much the same in fact. The only difference is that I have the whole family home with me throughout the day and each weekend is rather like the last.
Living on a farm is idyllic but also has its drawbacks, like not having close neighbours. With my family's attitudes, not having neighbours is definitely a plus. This weekend was entertaining to say the least!
We lost our chickens last year to the fox, all 50 of em! We vowed that if we kept them again, they'd be housed properly, not free range but kept in a pen. My hubby had spotted a sign nearby advertising some chickens, and we'd been talking about replacing them all summer. My hubby bought 6 hens and 2 cockerels, and they arrived on Saturday morning. My hubby had made a huge pen spanning the entire length of the garden. I commented that the wire fence looked a bit inadequate, but what do I know? The chickens were roosting in the shed when he drove in the last post. Looking very pleased with himself he dragged me outside to wonder at his work. He's used to keeping criminals in, woking at the prison, but could he keep the chickens in? -- that was the question!
My daughter became involved rather glumly as teenagers do. Why is it they frown upon us as children? Maybe we behave that way, but life would'nt be fun if we ever became dull and boring, and I intend to be flippant until my last breath -- and why not?
She opened the door and out shot the cockerel. Off he went, almost too quick to touch the ground. There were feathers and straw everywhere as one by one they zoomed across the lawn. I've seen some chickens in my time, and I've seen chickens run, but I've never seen racing chickens -- my goodness they could run!
It took no time at all for them to reach the perimeter and almost as fast as they ran, they shot through the fence and off up the field before we could even move -- we haven't seen then since. Those were the shortest residents ever to live on our farm. My gormless hubby took down the fence and I couldn't help but mention that if he was in charge of security at his jail, it's a wonder we don't have a mass break out.
That was one episode of the weekend. The next was different but just as daft.
We received a note on Friday night just as we settled in front of the fire. It read:
We are filming a battle scene in the bottom field down the lane. There will be some explosions of mild nature, cannon fire and some script noise. Please keep your animals indoors. How apt was that!
Sure enough around 8.30 am we heard the first explosion and someone shouting. The dog began barking and before we could quieten her, she was off down the field as well. Lucy, our dog, lives outdoors. Hates the postman, visitors, fireworks, noises and geese and now to add to the list -- actors. We followed her just as she was hanging on to the guy's leg and words which definitely were not in the script rang from his mouth. We apologised, grabbed the dog and took her indoors. We thought that was that until there was a bang at the door.
"Have you finished stoking your fire?" a lady with an armfull of paper pleaded.
"The smoke from your chimney is choking the actor and we can't film the scenes!"
My hubby was getting just a little annoyed, called them "luvvies", uttered something indiscreet and closed the door. The geese began to honk and noticing the lady had a pile of something in her arms, food was all they thought, set off after her down the drive. Saturday was a most unusual day!
Eloping chickens, gunfight at the OK Corral. What a weekend -- thank goodness it's Monday!