Day 338.

Mork and Mindy, the start of a legacy. Photography by F L Campbell

Bush eggs: one. Nest box eggs: none. Feed hopper: half full.

A slow day, relieved only by a fit of sneezes from Sylvie (Asian Bird Flu or over-zealous dust bathing?!?).

I was in the dust bath with Sylvie (before the sneezing) and she asked me why The Female Person keeps chickens. I didn’t really know and could only turn it around to our point of view – why do we hang out with people? Personally I find them very intriguing and relaxing. And I enjoy watching their flock dynamics, their own people pecking order.

Blacky told me The Female Person’s fascination started a long time ago when she was just small. Her mother was laid low with the flu and in no fit state to resist when The Female Person brought two day old chicks home.

After pulling herself out of her sick bed The Female Person’s mother made a warm and secure home for the chicks and then admitted that she too had pet chickens when she was young, as did The Female Person’s father. So, really, she was destined to love her chickens.

I know in times of happiness and in times of grief The Female Person finds great comfort in spending time with us.

I wandered back to the flock and thought out loud that I might walk over to see Grey Gun this afternoon. Jack said he didn’t think it was such a good idea. Frankly I don’t know what he’s talking about; must be one more sign of his mid-life insecurities.

To take my mind of Jack’s mid-life maladies I turned to poetry.

A poem about Mindy by Ruby
Mother Mindy, the start of it all.
Be proud, take a bow, stand tall.
The Female Person made you her friend.
Loved you ‘til your untimely end.
But your legacy continues,
More chickens followed on!
One of them a rooster,
With the great name of John.


Hmmm, needs work maybe…