girls grow beards too

The big boy permitted the Farmer and me to go and buy a trio of salmon faverolles on Sunday morning. We had to travel to Norfolk, and were under strict instructions NOT to pay the extortionate price if they were not perfect in every way.........

Obviously, upon arrival home, the big boy fished them out of the cardboard box in which they had been entombed by the seller and uttered the fateful words... 'Mum, these are absolutely rubbish'. Fifty pounds, and we shall be eating the cockerel when he has put a bit of weight on. Apparently, he has a hunchback (sigh) and even I can see that he has an extra, monster claw on one toe (sigh). The poor hens may be slightly better. They are thin and anaemic, and their combs were almost white (a very bad sign). Their plumage, however, is much more correct than the cockerel's, and their beards are quite, quite lovely. I love the girls already, and the cockerel is heading for the oven just as soon as we can fatten him, and find a replacement.

So much for the pedigree poultry buying skills of the farmer and his wife. Needless to say, it is unlikely that we shall be trusted with the task again. Old people. You just can't get the parents these days. I would add, however, that these faverolles, are mine, for me, all mine, mine, mine. Under supervision, of course.

A migraine has put paid to any energetic Easter outings, however, I am feeling a bit more 'the thing' today.  The arrival of second son and the lovely little D is eagerly anticipated this evening so that we can have a day or two en famille (I can hardly wait).

No summer job has yet turned up for me, I continue the search.......!