The reverence of the Maternity Wing

They're at it again! Those hens! Two gone broody, one under the big Burdock bush by the water tap and one under the rabbit cages. Now the Burdock bush is in a high traffic area, especially when it gets hot because all the chicken flock congregate in the puddle beneath the tap to wet their feet and have a paddle. A water dish is also handily placed by the tap for dogs and chickens to sate their thirst, thus producing more activity. Not to mention the builders who have been toing and froing on the other side of the bush as they work on the Middle Barn, oh and the cement mixer placed just in front of the bush which has been noisily active for several days.

And the hen just kept sitting under the bush with a dedication which was impressive to watch.

At first it wasn't too bad for her. The vegetation was quite vigorous, and hardly at all could she be seen. And then someone, (NOT me!) decided that the bush was too large, and while it is a naughty type of bush because once it has flowered the Burdock plant makes these scratchy, sticky, seed heads which can give one quite a swipe if one is bare armed and bare legged, anyways someone, ( I repeat NOT me) cut it. Not in total. Just heavily trimmed. Her shelter had been reduced by half.

First there was one egg. Then two. Then one. Then three. Then one. And it came into my head that this should not be so. To blame: either Bools, Gus, the magpies of which there are several now that they have raised their young who are no doubt extremely healthy youngsters because of their diet of eggs, sheep's poo, piglet's poo, pig poo, and the leavings after all have been fed.

Action! At nightfall, with stealth, the hen under the Burdock was lifted up by Hubs, with moi lifting up the remaining egg. Into the dog kennel she was put, on a bed of straw, with the egg tucked up again beneath her.

Action! With continued stealth, on hand and knees, Hubs pulled the other hen out from under the rabbit hutches. Right at the back of them she was. But no eggs. Still......better to put her somewhere safe, so into the piglet transport box she went, again on a bed of straw, and tucked up underneath her I put three fresh eggs one of which was hers from yesterday and which I had been saving for the newly purchased egg incubator.

Well all this was a couple of days ago. But here's an odd thing..... there seems to have come upon the Tall Barn, which is where they are now in residence, a sort of quiet hush. A waitingness. It is as if the air is in suspension.

And so Labartere has a Maternity Wing. Of course it is nothing like an authorised hospital-type environment. For a start, the 'expectant mums' have to cope with me sorting out the sheep fleeces over their heads (I am separating various parts of the  individual fleeces into piles of 'clean', 'sort of clean', 'a bit daggy but do-able', 'definitely a bit beyond do-able but still could be used at a push', and 'yucky, dreadfully daggy, definitely no-go'.) And then there is Jean-Pierre and his co-worker to-ing and fro-ing. Yet the air still seems to hold a quietness. Do people-type Maternity Wings hold that same quietness I wonder! I think not.

The hens have hot botts now. But they don't complain. When they come into broodiness that is what happens: Hot botts. To help them go un-broody one has to cool their botties down. Not sure how one does that, but should the occasions arise in the future then a search on the Internet will no doubt provide the answer. One thing for sure, though, they don't moan or carry on about their aches and pains! Perhaps that is why there is this waiting silence hanging in the air around them. It is so strong that I have started tiptoeing and talking quietly just so I do not disturb the quietness!

Three weeks time we shall know if we are to have littl'uns. Fingers crossed for at least one chick between the pair of them!

Et voila: The Maternity Wing:

To the far left, the dog kennel in which is the Burdock bush hen. To give her privacy I have lent her my throw. On top is a pile of 'clean, wonderfully clean' fleece. On the chair on the lower right is another pile of same. I struck lucky with that particular sheep's fleece. The rest are mostly yucky. Behind the kennel is a pile of onions newly harvested, waiting for me to make them into a tidy pile after Hubs threw them down in a heap. Behind them is an assorted jumble of gardening pots which were quite tidy once - until the hens decided that it was fun to rummage amongst them. To the far upper right is the other hen. I put some pots and stuff on top of the wire on the roof of box so she could feel private. In front of her is the pile of tiles waiting since January for our builder to come and lay them in the Half Barn.

Meanwhile life goes on:

These two are fixated by the red bucket. It is the animal feed bucket. Wherever it goes, so do they. Hubs is in charge of the red bucket. Therefore wherever he goes so do they. He may or may not be carrying the red bucket though. But this does not seem to worry these two. They trot along behind him anyway, just in case the red bucket should miraculously appear.

However.... I am now having to buy eggs. Unless I am sharp and keep my ears skinned for the hens telling me that they have just laid an egg and then dash to wherever it is they have laid, the magpies will get there first. I know that all should live in harmony, but we are starting to list ways in which to deter the magpies from nesting here next year. I favour trapping and then taking it aways off to release. Hubs is erring on the side of catapult or shot gun. I am, however, trying to deter him, his fly-swatting activities making me feel concerned for the general safety of all. Bless.

That's it, then. The End. But only for this blog! How could I not continue to share the ups and downs of trying to run a homestead with you all, and I hope I give you as much enjoyment as I get from reading your wonderful and interesting blogs.

Nicely cooking!!!

Phew, but the temperatures have suddenly rocketed here. 35 yesterday, probably higher today, the ground of the Courtyard being so hot that you could hardly walk on it yesterday, which is probably why a couple of the hens were paddling their feet in the puddle beneath the outside water tap!

To cool Max off I have taken to giving him a squirt of the hosepipe. He is in two minds as to whether he should tolerate it or not, as can be seen by his 'happy' upright ears and the 'unhappy' gnashing of his teeth. Probably thinks it is an infringement of his space, me sending water into his patch. But he stands and lets the water run over him nevertheless. Hope it cheers him up now he is without company.

Hubs came up with the idea of putting the two piglet girls in with him to remedy this situation, but I was less that enthusiastic. They will start having seasons soon and they are only half grown but he would not take this into account and still feel the need to have a go having practised with Tess for nearly a year and he might get stuck and then there would be direness in the piggy camp.

Anyways, the piglets are fast outgrowing their small temporary paddock, but Hubs came up with the idea of letting them out into the sheep paddock during the day, when the sheep are over in the Side Field therefore leaving the paddock free. Good idea. Piglets romped over the grass, and rotovated the sheep's bedding thus helping the hens who also help out with this task.

And here's an oddness. To get the piglet girls used to us we need to train them to follow the bucket. Up to now they have been cute, but themselves. But when we went into the paddock one of the girls raced up to us and did nibbly things to the parts of us she could reach, as could be seen by the round piggy marks stamped on our legs and shorts made by the muddiness of her nose. And suddenly she had become one of us, part of the team. And it felt like Tess had transferred her spirit into that little piggy. Odd that..... And every time I think of Tess I 'see' an image in my head of her jumping up and racing toward me, as if she is well and happy.....

But now the sheep are out into the Home Field, so are in and out of their barn all the day long, which means the little piggies have to stay where they are. However, upon making a check on them yesterday, they were not to be seen. Oooohh deeeaaarrr! So where? Had a look in the Home Field. Sheep at the far end, looking like they were sheltering beneath the small oak tree. But no! They made a sudden dart to the right, shoulder to shoulder in a tight squash. Off they went. And to the left of them, hot on their heels, two reddish blobs trotting along behind. Ahha! So that's where they were, messing about with the sheep! Raced into the house to alert Hubs. Grabbed a bucket of maize. Out to the field. And there they were, those two on-an-adventure-but-now-needed-to-come-home piggy girls, heading towards us at a fast trot, the sheep having meanwhile galloped back to the barn. Oh but those little girls were pleased to see us! And didn't one of them glue her nose to my leg as she followed me through to their paddock, as if to say 'Don't leave me mum!', whilst the other one tried to get into the sheep's water trough which is an old Halfords box. She managed three legs but the last one couldn't squeeze in.

And so these adventuring girls remain within their small patch today, but we are very pleased to see that they regard us as 'parents' and that they will return to us when trouble is brewing, which also means that they should follow us when we move them about the farm in the future.

Meanwhile..... made a check on the bees. Queen cage down on the floor. Picked it up and repositioned it on a frame after first opening the sugar stash part so she could eventually get out. Not much progress has been made in the hive, but the weather for the best part of the week was not condusive for flight, and now it is frantically hot. They are really up against it. I feel troubled for them. But.....the ant community have resisted the urge to start a colony in the lid of the hive, put off by my liberal sprinkling of Quatre Epices. 'Cinnamon', the Internet said, is what you should use to deter ants in the hive, but didn't know the French word for cinnamon (it's 'cannelle' apparently), so used Mixed Spice, which I think the Quatre Epices is. Anyway, it worked! Ants: zero. AND the bees are flying with more purpose - instead of kind of falling out of the hive then flying off, they zoom straight out, intent to get to wherever it is they are going. They look more purposeful, so perhaps the queen has given them a boost.

The temperature is starting to rocket up again, so had better go and make a check on our outside team. Hope you are well, and I hope you have a lovely day.  

....and then Tess died

And so it came to be the evening of the day. It had been a hot day. After several weeks of cold and wet weather the sun was welcome. That is, until late afternoon when it became so hot that I was beaten back into the house, all  effort expired.

Out to to our Tamworth Pig Paddock. Max up and waiting for his evening meal. Tess down. 'Twas not good, you could see that, 'twas not good. Nothing we could do. Except that I gave her a scratch round her ear just to let her know I was standing by, and she responded by snortling. And that was that. Her journey now.

A midnight check and she was quiet, calm, and sleeping. Into the deep sleep she must have gone soon after that because I was up at five to see her, and she was no more in this life. Max was chatting away to her, telling her to get up but she was never going to do that ever again.

Off to tell Hubs. Cup of tea, then swing into action, that's what we did. Max separated from Tess, seduced away by a super duper bucket of food. Best not to have him anywhere near the scene of the Tess Recycling Project. He would have interfered. He is always irate when Hubs is nearby. Looks upon him as a possible challenger for Tess's affections. Anyways he was away in the other paddock, with the entrance between the two paddocks blocked by my kitchen table, that being the only large block of wood we had to hand.

Chains, rope, tractor. Hubs fretting. A big task this, the Tess Recycling Project. All I could do was stand about feeling useless. She was starting to redden. Chemical reactions starting to break down her body parts, the energy of the Universe at work. Needed to get a move on. Hubs into paddock. Rope around her back legs. Chain around her front legs. Back out of the paddock. Up onto tractor. Put lifting mechanism on. Up she came. Down again she plopped, the front chains having slipped. Expletives darted through the air as Hubs clambered back into the paddock. Chains repositioned. Up on tractor again. Up into the air Tessy came. Down the path she went, jiggling about a little bit as the tractor bounced over the furrows of the path.

A little distance away, the fire pit. It was not intended as a fire pit. It was originally a huge hole our builder made with his digging machine, into which rubble from the house was supposed to go, but it was never finished. Good job really. It has served up well, that fire pit.

Now the gathering of the wood. Masses of it. All our dry wood for next winter's fires. Not to worry. Needs must. Build the fire. Last year's sheep fleeces. Anything. Fire must burn hot hot hot.

Tessy put on log pile. Rolled off it. Yelled instructions from Hubs sent me scrambling up onto the seat of the tractor. Pulled a lever. Shooting upwards came the lifting arm of the tractor. Ah! Too enthusiastic! Nearly made Hubs fall over. He was in the firepit with Tess, trying to position her better. Lower the handle now. Did so. Too quick again. Hubs nearly sent into a sprawl with Tessy, who was starting to inflate a teensy weensy bit. Instructions  yelled at me again. Up, I got the arm up, and gently this time.

Then I went and made a cup of tea whilst Hubs carried on with fetching wood. Fire lit. Flames dancing high. No smoke though, just a very cheerful fire. Did a visit to my neighbour over at the Chambre d'hote, to tell her to close her bedroom windows. Just in case an aroma pervaded the air during the burning of Tess.

And it came to me that Tess had been looking life-tired for some time. Hubs thought that we had caused her demise but I think not. Yes, the heat was fierce and she probably over heated. Pigs can't sweat the heat out of them, which is why they need a wallow: the mud cools them down. And yes, the wallow had dried out fast and was the driest it had ever been. But I think that Tess had had enough in life. She was sleeping for longer and longer, and had been declining in the effort to show interest in life. But it is only in hindsight that I recognise this.

My overwhelming feeling is that she is glad not to be here any more, and all I have is a sense of relief for her. I think the heat finished her off, but she was not in good health anyway when she arrived just under a year ago, this I now recognise. And bless her for contributing to one of our many learning curves here. This learning we shall take forward with us while her chemical constituents get recycled into the chemical banks of the Universe.

Did you know that we are all made from the same chemical bank? That bits of you could have been all sorts of things before your parents came together to make you? That DNA gives you the roadmap for the construction of you, but that the chemicals needed to build  your physical structure comes from the same chemical bank which every single living being on Earth uses for its growth as well. And that the chemical bank is derived from the stars of the Universe. Stardust, then.

So fare thee well, Tessy. We did the best we could for you. You never gave us piglets, but then I don't think you were ever meant to. I think you came here to teach us about the gracefulness of nature which a female pig can have. Burn you well, and let your spirit fly high in the sky. RIP.

PS. We didn't recycle her into the freezer because my instinct was that she was not well enough for us to do so, but we thought about it and would have done so had she been sound. As I say, on reflection, I think that she had been in declining health for some time.