Reinstated post #3 Yes, I admit it, I am completely crazy

Yes, OK, I admit it, I am completely crazy

Yesterday was truly foul (no pun, honest) as regards weather - pouring all day and blustery wind - but that was only because the weather gods knew I was planning to clean out the chicken sheds. I hope they had a good time looking down at me from their fluffy cloud-seats as, despite cunningly choosing to scrape the straw out upwind, rogue blusters inevitably contrived to direct hanks of straw-plus-chicken-detritus my way. Thank God for Barbours, is all I can say, although even that article was soaked through by the time I finished. Praise be also for the mains-pressure shower I had the foresight to install - I can't begin to describe the bliss of standing underneath a Niagara-like near-scalding torrent when you enter the cubicle freezing, damp and smelling vaguely of chicken poo.

My poor little birds (I use the term advisedly as I breed Brahmas - one of the biggest hens around) sat around looking dejected all day despite the treats (slightly squishy tomatoes and a couple of wrinkly apples) I bunged their way to cheer them up. At least they seemed pleased by the nice clean straw beds they clambered into of an evening, so my trial-by-flying-poo ordeal earlier in the day had not been in vain.

Given all this doom and gloom, I was hugely cheered by seeing some sunshine today when I staggered out of the pit and pulled the curtains open and decided to give the fowl a treat - chicken porridge. Yes, you DID read that correctly. Chicken porridge is normally something they only get when I'm feeling really indulgent or it's been freezing cold and it's exactly what it says on the tin; porridge oats prepared for chickens - with water, linseeds and sultanas (plus a blob of pro-biotic yoghurt on top if there's any to be had). Having made this gloop - and fought off Mini because he thought it was for him - I advanced on the chicken sheds anticipating their happy little faces when they spotted what I was carrying. I wasn't disappointed - Edgar's jubliant clucking could be heard on the other side of the yard. However, this time it attracted rather more than his usual entourage - when I passed by a couple of minutes later I was treated to the sight of Edgar, Rosie and Molly (two of his ladies) sharing their special treat with Tiny and Twm (two of my cats who normally give Edgar a wide berth because he's bigger than they are).

Mmmm... should I be developing cat-porridge too?