I spy the ‘Teen’ before he spies me and wonder what mood he might be in after school. It is a Monday afterall and he is a Teen, so you can’t be too careful. I watch him sureptitiously as he strides self conciously along the pavement towards me, looking out for our car. He sees me I notice and so I give a little discreet wave, he pretends he didn’t see. He used to be such a dear little boy. As he gets closer he raises his eyebrows a tiny fraction to let me know he knows I am there. It wouldn’t do to wave delightedly and beam me a wide smile. On reaching the car, I see him take a quick glance around and finding no one he cares about anywhere near, he opens the door, slings his bag in the back and jumps into the front seat. He turns towards me, looks me in the eye and gives me a wonderful smile. I breathe a tiny sigh. Today we are ok.
Teen Times
Posted in Private Lives | Tags: Car, Glance around, I Spy, Monday, Mood, School, Self consciously, Smile, Teenagers, Teens, Waves, youth
‘All the better to Eat you with’
Shock and horror, we have a visit from Mr Fox. We are down from nine and a half, to six and a half chickens.
There was much noise and crowing a couple of evenings ago and I went to investigate outside. I could tell from the tone of the noise that the chickens were very anxious and upset. I tried to see where they were but they had hidden under a large bush by the house and took no notice when I tried to coax them out. I thought no more about it until bed time (for the chickens), when there didn’t seem to be quite the right number. Knowing that one of the Cockrills has been ostracised and sometimes sleeps in the greenhouse, I shut the door without further investigation.
The next day, driving into our lane with the Teen, on the way back from school, we notice one of the Cockrills in the road – minus his tail feathers. Oh dear. Later, when they all assemble for muster and bed, the awful truth is revealed. There are now only six and a half left. The half is of course ‘Lit’lun’ the only surviving baby from the recent hatchlings. (She still hasn’t got a name as I am still fearful that either the RR (wretched Rooks) will get her, or possibly the fox). Mr Fox seems more likely now.
Later, when I had recovered from this shock, I went out to do some detective work. I walked onto the lane and along the edge of the giant field and saw that the Fox had lain in the long grass on the edge of the field and waited to ambush the unsuspecting brood as they took their customery morning walk out of the garden. Patches in the tall grass showed clearly where he had squashed it down, lieing in wait for the poor unsuspecting birds. I ventured into the churchyard that lies behind our house and found a heap of feathers, all that was left of one of them.
I was disappointed that, as is usual, the Fox took the birds that I most wanted. He didn’t take the loud mouth that shouts his head off at every opportunity, sending all the others off into a flap and cacophany of ‘skwarks’. No, he took two white ones and a dark one. One of the white ones is Lit’lun’s Dad who has looked after the little one so well after her mother abandoned her, in fact all the lads have been fantastic in this way, despite me feeling I had too many boys and not enough girls. (More about Lit’lun and his ‘Dads’ here.)
So, we blocked up the gate so that they don’t go out of the garden, but of course they found another way out. Touch wood, Mr Fox has not come back since and the chickens are very much on their guard – for now at least.
Posted in Chicken Shack | Tags: Chickens, Cockrills, Fox


Recent Comments