Following the sad demise of our chickens, we have decided that life is unthinkable without our feathered friends - and especially without any freshly-laid eggs.
So last weekend we constructed as fox-proof a run as possible.
Then we took charge of four new ‘girls’ from a farm that claimed to supply chickens to Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, a member of the royal family and Sting.
Well, I’m not sure if I care about the latter two, but knowing that Hugh’s chickens may have come from there certainly gave us confidence in the suppliers thatwe had chosen.
Whilst we were tackling the back garden, fighting past the tomatoes to get to our newly-erected chicken run, I hardly had time to notice the exciting happenings in the front garden.
The ‘kiwi’ plant that I planted about three years ago (and which has since taken on a complete species change to become a grapevine) is proudly sporting 12 bunches of grapes and they’re now turning a beautiful shade of purple.
I’m in awe every time I pass them.
I simply can’t quite believe that we have managed to produce them, with absolutely no care or attention at all!
My husband dared to try one a couple of weeks ago, but by the look on his face I think it will be a while longer until they are ready to munch on.
Or shall we dump them in the bath and get the children to mash them up with their bare feet to make our own label wine?