Chicken sitting for the old women

It occurred to me while i was  just in the middle of making  plum jam (in the microwave of all things) that i promised you a post this weekend.

I feel slightly fraudulent offering you the ramblings below as it's something i wrote on return from my epic week in Shropshire which has languished on my desktop for nearly two months. Still, reading it again did make me chuckle, especially as it starts with my usual grovelling over the length of time between posts. Perhaps i should rename the blog 'Apoligies from River Cottage Croydon’. Anyway, enjoy.

Howdy. Apologies for the delay in posts, blah, blah (can’t even be bothered to summons a decent excuse).

Oh, hang on – I’ve got one. Apologies for the lack of recent posts but I’ve been in the absolute middle of nowhere house/garden/chicken sitting for my mother. Yes, I’ve survived my week living in the grounds of Hodnet Hall, returning to the bosom of River Cottage Croydon to report on my expedition.

There are very few people, for whom I’d sacrifice a week of my holiday to get up every day at 6am to tend to a ragtaggle bunch of chickens, but my mother is one of them. A week living in the grounds of a bona-fide stately home (isn't it beautiful?) has certainly been good for my stress levels and my education in all things outdoorsy. Here’s a summary of my main learnings from a stint in the Countryside.

Hens can kill mice. Really, they can - I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Kill them stone dead with a single blow to the head. Left alone with the murine corpse for any length of time they will peck its little body into an unrecognisable pulp. Extrapolating the carcass from said hen is not for the feint hearted. Also, best not done in the dark.

Toads like living in the shoes you keep by the back door. ALWAYS check before sliding your feet in.

Mum's garden is so vast you can listen to the album  'Contra' by Vampire Weekend twice over whilst watering it. 

It is a fallacy that mommy birds reject baby birds touched by human hand (thanks RSPB website). However, it is a truism that any fool trying to return a baby bird to its nest using a decrepit stepladder on uneven ground is in for a big surprise.

One sunburnt ear is never a good look.