A mere 36 hours ago I was remarking to my Mum that it seemed unbelievable, whilst sitting in the light, bright conservatory and being warmed by the late afternoon sun's rays, that winter was on it's way. We've all got used this year to rain one moment and sun (well, not much sun) the next but it always seems hard to fathom that we can have such a wide variety of weather in such a short space of time. Yesterday we had a warm and sunny morning which continued some way into the afternoon before the temperature dropped suddenly and we had hailstones and rain. The older chickens huddled inside the greenhouse and spent their time waiting for the skies to brighten up by indulging in dust baths but the newest additions to our brood haven't discovered the joys of the greenhouse yet so they took shelter under the canopy of the raspberries.
I had to race up the garden to rescue the washing I had hoped would dry, especially as I had another load to go out on the line. Socks, the cat from next door, came bounding into the house to shelter and within moments the scene had changed from a busy garden with blue skies and puffy clouds to not a soul to be seen and a mass of threatening grey along with fat globules of rain and hail.
This morning I woke early (always annoying when it's a Sunday and we don't have to get up) and after an hour lazing in bed I pulled on a dressing gown so I could open up the hens. We normally open their pop hole and let them out between 7.00 and 7.20 so they were already chirping in their house when I trudged up the garden. It's been such a long time that I had forgotten how hard it is to slide open the bolts when they've been stuck fast by a frost. So, here we are; summer (such as it was) is over and Autumn is not the balmy swansong of a lovely year as it has been before. Now we have to treasure our sunshiney days as we head into the season where swirling leaves herald the coming of winter and the squirrel continues it's storage of food for the barren months ahead.
A lone buzzard flew over the rooftop yesterday and the crows perched noisily on the chimney pots. I searched for a tiny egg that Mrs Bun almost certainly laid somewhere in the garden but only turned up smooth oval pebbles. We may find it in weeks to come.
Yesterday I had a joyous time weeding the vegetable patch. All the corn was pulled up; the chickens saw to it that we never had a meal from it. The beans have been very sparse but I picked a few that hung limply from the swirling stems and we will eat these with our Sunday lamb dinner today. I did find three little overlooked potatoes in the ground and also dug up the small heads of garlic that I planted for harvest this year. I've kept a few but will plant up the individual cloves for next year as they have strong roots on each one. Hen keepers advise placing garlic in the water for healthy hens but I've never done it. Apart from our old hen, Buckster, who is currently moulting and looks particularly scraggy the others seems to be in the best of health. Oh, to be be young and fit once more.
I had to race up the garden to rescue the washing I had hoped would dry, especially as I had another load to go out on the line. Socks, the cat from next door, came bounding into the house to shelter and within moments the scene had changed from a busy garden with blue skies and puffy clouds to not a soul to be seen and a mass of threatening grey along with fat globules of rain and hail.
This morning I woke early (always annoying when it's a Sunday and we don't have to get up) and after an hour lazing in bed I pulled on a dressing gown so I could open up the hens. We normally open their pop hole and let them out between 7.00 and 7.20 so they were already chirping in their house when I trudged up the garden. It's been such a long time that I had forgotten how hard it is to slide open the bolts when they've been stuck fast by a frost. So, here we are; summer (such as it was) is over and Autumn is not the balmy swansong of a lovely year as it has been before. Now we have to treasure our sunshiney days as we head into the season where swirling leaves herald the coming of winter and the squirrel continues it's storage of food for the barren months ahead.
A lone buzzard flew over the rooftop yesterday and the crows perched noisily on the chimney pots. I searched for a tiny egg that Mrs Bun almost certainly laid somewhere in the garden but only turned up smooth oval pebbles. We may find it in weeks to come.
Yesterday I had a joyous time weeding the vegetable patch. All the corn was pulled up; the chickens saw to it that we never had a meal from it. The beans have been very sparse but I picked a few that hung limply from the swirling stems and we will eat these with our Sunday lamb dinner today. I did find three little overlooked potatoes in the ground and also dug up the small heads of garlic that I planted for harvest this year. I've kept a few but will plant up the individual cloves for next year as they have strong roots on each one. Hen keepers advise placing garlic in the water for healthy hens but I've never done it. Apart from our old hen, Buckster, who is currently moulting and looks particularly scraggy the others seems to be in the best of health. Oh, to be be young and fit once more.
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