The high life

Our oldest chicken. Up on the fence

As this is almost six feet tall and Buck Bucky is an old lady and a little bantam she either had a flight of fancy or hopped up onto the hen run roof first before ending up here. 

The front gardens gets a make over.

 Armed with my spade, fork, compost, hosepipe and seventy quid's worth of plants, I attempted to spend the happiest day in my front garden.

 Dripping with sweat as the sun bore down relentlessly, I spent eight hours cutting away at the grass, levelling underneath it so I could reuse it to level the ground at the edge of the wall, before digging up two blue containers-full of stones and replacing them with black compost to enrich the bone dry soil.

 Once I cut my shape our I worked in the compost.You can see how dry the lawn is from it's barrenness and colour.

 The blue container filling with stones, the soil enriched with compost.

Seven sweaty hours later (oh, what gratifying work) I had the fun bit. Planting up my new front garden.

The sunflower opens.

 Late July. It's centre just visible in a sea of green.

 Here we are in August with it unfolding it's petals.

 Three days later and it is fully opened.

 All of these will soon make up one large seedhead.

 Only four days later and the centre is filling out and has convexed like a toddler's tummy. Very rotund.

Not long till the birds will be landing on it to pull at the seeds.

Cheltenham's Copper Beech

You can see that this majestic Copper Beech is fenced off - or as befits the Spa town of Cheltenham - is actually enclosed by wrought iron. The Beech was planted when the park was first opened and I think it's two hundred years old. Sadly though, you can see the huge fungus that is infecting it and as such, it has had to be cordoned off and is in the process of being slowly treated in order to save the tree. 

Oh, I have so much to tell you........,

not that it's at all exciting but where has the time gone? We've had a summer here this year, I'd almost forgotten how lovely an English (or  indeed Welsh) summer could be; those warm breezes, the sun bearing almost too hot when the wind drops, the cerulean sky with a painter's light brush of wispy clouds heralding another fine day and padding about the lawn with no shoes on and feeling the downy grass crush and spring back under your feet. What's not to like about summer? I don't even really mind the flies and wasps that buzz around as they are joined in their aerobatics by white, brown and blue butterflies and bumble and honey bees.
Today though it's not sunny, it's not even blue - it's been raining for hours and I am tucked up in bed at 7.00pm typing away before the hens put themselves to bed and I can lock them safely away.
There is sad news on the hen front but tempered with possible good news too.
But where have I been? Well, I suppose I've just been enjoying the sunshine. It's been too lovely to stay indoors and type (hence the catch up now when it's 'piddling' down).
So, how have you been? Well, you aren't going to tell me so I shall just move on (although, do feel free to let me know if you want to - I'd be thrilled to hear your news).

Bun in the sweetcorn,

You may be aware of the passage:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted

But very saddest of all, one of our babies - Betty the Barred - died expectantly one night about a month ago. 

I always mourn my chickens but this was especially sad as she was fine the day before and was such a bold little lass, just one year old and with so much fun to have and to give. 

Sylvie, her little friend, is also mourning and so we are now, after trying to integrate her into the big girl's house with no luck, back off to the farm we bought some of the other girls from in order to purchase some new girls for her. It always seems a little hard to just replace hens that you have loved but this time we need to get company for our lone chick. So this Sunday we will be heading over to the farm again with a cardboard box, a purse full of cash and some hope that we will get just what we are looking for. I did have such a soft spot for Betty but I hope if we do get some new girls (and how can we see some and not bring any back?) that Sylvie will have some company. I just hope the bullied doesn't become the bully but with chickens and their pecking order I'm guessing the big girl will throw her weight around.