Echoes Inhabit the Garden

Did you know that 3am is the new 6am? Yes, it is. And our son hates his naps, his cot, his room, his bedtime, his sleeping bag, all of his teddy bears, and most of all, his parents.

We’ve gardened hard today. Some people use lawnmowers, hedge trimmers, secateurs, and the like. We feel they lack vision.


I drove the blue tractor & trailer on the road to bring them here, and I’m worryingly out of practice. I had a brief insight into how those pensioners who end up driving 10 miles down the wrong side of the motorway must feel, and there’s a helluva lot more sticks and pedals on a tractor. There are also snags to using tractors as everyday vehicles when your (exceedingly lardy) spaniel only has one hip joint.


My hens were a little alarmed by the machinery influx, and retreated to squawk at us from a distance. I’ve decided I need, yes, need some more hens to entertain me. My Golden Brahma and Gold Laced Orpington chicks are all grown up now,


happily shagging their friends, siblings and mother (poultry are Bad for this sort of thing), the weather is getting kinder, and Hubby has just blown silly amounts of cash on a camera lens, ergo, I am totally allowed to purchase some more fancy breeds with crazy feathers; I have recently borrowed my SIL’s incubator again.   

I’m bidding on some Silkies, because they have mad hair. I have mad hair.  John has mad hair. Harry has a double crown, and madder hair than either of us when it grows longer. These’ll fit right in.


I’m also bidding on some Lemon Pyle Brahmas


 and some lavender/splash cochins


Hubby is alarmed at the (unlikely) prospect of my winning all 18 eggs, which then all prove fertile and hatch. He should have thought of that before he bought the lens, yes?

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