Another drear and soppy day. It is a squelchy walk to the hen run these mornings but at least Flour the bantam isn't clocking any more. Imagine! Going broody in December/January. It's far too cold to bring out chicks and it's not good for chickens to spend three weeks sitting on a nest in the bleak midwinter. She was persistent. We'd keep lifting the eggs from under her and the next day there would be another two or three under her. She must have brought them to the nest herself. Our friend Peter said they gather the eggs up under their wings and transport them to the nest. He also said she needed to get a cold arse to put her off the notion so Bert put her under a bucket and set her in a shed. the next morning I looked out the window and there was a hard frost. Good part, ground not squelchy; bad part, Flour's arse might be a bit too cold so I raced out to the shed and set her free. She joined the others and is now (thankfully) completely off the notion of clocking.
And I've been walking every day since the year began. Today it was so wet I wore my wellies. Not great for tramping the highways but at least my feet were dry. Walking was the good part. The less good part is that I had trifle for breakfast. Roll on the eleventh.