A non-horsey day. Only because my cunning Red decided that I could whistle and call all I liked this morning, but the spring grass was a better option. And knowing my love for traipsing through 25 acres....knew he was pretty safe!
Instead of (wisely) going for a ride, I decided (unwisely) that it was time to do something about the roosters. For months I had been putting off the nasty chore, but after watching Jamie Oliver's 'Chicken Episode' the other night.....well...the time was right. I managed to catch 6 of the blighters and lock them in the shed with 2 on the run. With no hardened kill-thirsty help to be seen, I did a classic 'me' and headed back off indoors to start painting the lounge ceiling. After about 10 minutes, 2 ladder-climbs and 3'sq coverage, the help appeared! Works every time.
I'm not going to give all the gory details. The job was done fairly humanely and we were now faced with a pile of flesh and feathers, which Greg assured me would come off WAY better with the help of a little hot water. 'A little hot water' involved: The building of a roaring fire, the setting up of an old cauldron full of (rusty) water and a cup of tea break whilst waiting for the water to become usefully hot enough. It was at this point the other two roosters showed their noisy faces. We decided to nail them with the shotgun. After a little stalking, to-ing and fro-ing, swearing, ranting and finally blasting we had a total of eight to deal with.
I have to say, the hot water works! The feathers just fell off! I wish I could say the same about the insides of the damn critters. That was MY job, as I had the smallest hand. Bugger. What a waste of my gorgeous french polish that took me ages to get right. Anyhoo....now I have a freezer full of lovely free-range, pre-crowing, man-chooks.
The weather has now turned to custard. Red is still nowhere to be seen. I guess it's back to the paint job...
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