Listening to: Subterranean Homesick Blues (Bob Dylan)
Nursing: sore arm after embarrassing attempt to play badminton
Nursing: sore head after embarrassing attempt to play euchre (card game - apparently)
It's a lot noisier on the smallholding this week thanks to Sally's companion on her trip with Baron von Richtofen and the flying circus on Friday.
As Mrs TPF staggered to the car, she clutched a cat basket containing the cockerel we had rescued from a fate worse than Provencale. 'Lucky' (as he was called at the time) had been quiet all through the trip, much to my disappointment. To my mind a terrifying trip in a small plane, buffeted by high winds and surrounded by lightning, only needs a cockerel crowing from the luggage hold to make it complete.
The basket was covered with a blanket, so I hadn't seen him. Therefore it came as quite a shock when he was let out in the hen house. He's certainly hard to ignore.
As you can see, he's quite the looker in an ostentatious kind of way and my first comment was: "He's a bit 1981, don't you think?" - "Just needs the stripe across his face and it's Adam Ant," said Sally. So Lucky became Adam and the trainee pig farmer had 'Stand And Deliver' rattling round his head for the rest of the day - great!
The hens seem happy he's here and they tend to go around in a big gang now. It's too early to see what effect it has on egg production, but we've had three in the last 24 hours, so no complaints.
He does the full 'cock-a-doodle-do' which does help to make the place seem just a little more like a real farm.
All we need now is a real farmer.