Monday, 27 February 2012

Hot cross bun or a big stick

                                                                                       This morning our two chickens dashed out the gate when they had the chance and hid in the hedge. They love the hedgerow and would happily spend all day pecking in there.

However they also like laying their eggs in there and no human can squeeze in to collect the eggs if they do. So my husband and his business partner stopped loading their truck and started to help me get them back in the pen.

I watched as they did this by getting large sticks and banging them on the bin at one end to frighten them one way and poking another big stick in the other part of the hedge to block their way of escape. It was all very loud and exuberant.

I watched with my arms folded, an amused smile on my face as they had no luck in persuading the chickens to go in the right direction.

Then I fetched a hot cross bun, told the men (and the sticks) to back off and crumbled the bun into small pieces and threw it on the floor of the chicken pen calling, 'Here chicky, chicky, chick.' Both chickens dashed out of the hedge in a perky, eager manner and ran to the open gate.

Bun is mightier than the stick.

Sunday, 19 February 2012

Kreativ Blogger award

Many thanks to Gary Longdon for giving my humble blog a Kreativ award.

Gary's blog is full of listings, musings and excellent poems...a blog worth visiting.

The rule is I have to give six random facts about my life and nominate three other bloggers that I enjoy reading. I choose Betty Rivers and Catherine Crosswell who always write things that interest and entertain me and 'utopian fragments' for having a good name.

 1) I got kicked by a horse when I was 21. Luckily I put my hand in front of my face. It broke my hand and gave me a black eye but if I hadn't moved that fast the doctor at the hospital said it would have been very messy.

2)  I named my daughter Pamela after Jim Morrison's girlfriend.

3) I have spent the last year writing poems about British Queens.

4) When I walk my dog I talk to her like she might answer me.

5)  I can't read 'The Woodlanders' without crying. Other books, the sorrow isn't as effective the 2nd time, but in this book it breaks my heart each time I read it and I get to the end and Marty speaks to Giles in his grave.

6) My favourite books when I was a  child were Alice in Wonderland, The Moomins and The Jungle Book.

'Now this is the Law of the Jungle -- as old and as true as the sky;
And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die.
As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth forward and back --
For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.

Wash daily from nose-tip to tail-tip; drink deeply, but never too deep;
And remember the night is for hunting, and forget not the day is for sleep.
The Jackal may follow the Tiger, but, Cub, when thy whiskers are grown,
Remember the Wolf is a Hunter -- go forth and get food of thine own.
Keep peace withe Lords of the Jungle -- the Tiger, the Panther, and Bear.
And trouble not Hathi the Silent, and mock not the Boar in his lair.
When Pack meets with Pack in the Jungle, and neither will go from the trail,
Lie down till the leaders have spoken -- it may be fair words shall prevail.
When ye fight with a Wolf of the Pack, ye must fight him alone and afar,
Lest others take part in the quarrel, and the Pack be diminished by war.
The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, and where he has made him his home,
Not even the Head Wolf may enter, not even the Council may come.
The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, but where he has digged it too plain,
The Council shall send him a message, and so he shall change it again.
If ye kill before midnight, be silent, and wake not the woods with your bay,
Lest ye frighten the deer from the crop, and your brothers go empty away.
Ye may kill for yourselves, and your mates, and your cubs as they need, and ye can;
But kill not for pleasure of killing, and seven times never kill Man!
If ye plunder his Kill from a weaker, devour not all in thy pride;
Pack-Right is the right of the meanest; so leave him the head and the hide.
The Kill of the Pack is the meat of the Pack. Ye must eat where it lies;
And no one may carry away of that meat to his lair, or he dies.
The Kill of the Wolf is the meat of the Wolf. He may do what he will;
But, till he has given permission, the Pack may not eat of that Kill.
Cub-Right is the right of the Yearling. From all of his Pack he may claim
Full-gorge when the killer has eaten; and none may refuse him the same.
Lair-Right is the right of the Mother. From all of her year she may claim
One haunch of each kill for her litter, and none may deny her the same.
Cave-Right is the right of the Father -- to hunt by himself for his own:
He is freed of all calls to the Pack; he is judged by the Council alone.
Because of his age and his cunning, because of his gripe and his paw,
In all that the Law leaveth open, the word of your Head Wolf is Law.
Now these are the Laws of the Jungle, and many and mighty are they;
But the head and the hoof of the Law and the haunch and the hump is -- Obey!'