wanderer's return

The juvenile peacock on the LEFT of the photo is my returned wanderer. The mature peahen on the RIGHT of the photo is my pet. Now, we have had her for several years, living in lonely splendour with a ragbag assortment of hens and cockerels. In the Spring, when the weather warms, she frequently makes it clear that she is a little lonely. She races to the long windows to admire herself, and fans her small tail feathers to impress her reflection. She lives 'free range' and can be found in favoured locations all over the farm.

Last Autumn we acquired a handful of peacock chicks and they were shut up in a barn to grow on and mature. It came to pass that they have reached an age where we can identify which sex they are, and so I can say, with assurance, that there are 3 young peacocks, and 4 peahens in the barn.

My lonely mature peahen can hear these young pretenders calling, squabbling and probably mating. She is on the outside looking in. And they, conversely, are on the inside looking out at her. So, I said to the farmer, can we release one of these juvenile peacocks to live and pair with my lovely hen? No, no, said he, the peacock will fly away to a distant place and we shall lose him for ever. Go on, said I, she's so lonely it's worth the risk.....

So, we drove one of the boys out of the barn, and he took immediate flight onto a tall shed roof, from which eerie he spied my girl, and made his way down to meet and greet her. Unfortunately you may guess what happened next.............. he had a good look around the facilities available and buggered off! 24 hours passed with only a glimpse of him on the garden hedge. The farmer was particularly smug.

And then, this very afternoon, the peacock appeared from nowhere and landed on the tall shed roof once again. He stretched his neck, peering down into the poultry pen, spied his 'older woman', and flopped down to join her.

So, fingers crossed, he has discovered that the grass is not necessarily greener on the other side of the fence, and will settle down for a bit of connubial bliss with my girlie.

I took my old touring caravan to Stennett's Auction at Brigg on Thursday, and it made exactly the money the farmer predicted. A little more smugness was in evidence at this accuracy. I had a lovely morning poking about amongst the rubbish to be sold and leaving with a pocket full of cash! Proceeds disposed of the same day into the farrier's pocket in exchange for shoes for the little yellow horse, and weekend provender for old people and homeward bound young people. It was nice whilst it lasted!

A morning cleaning at the caravan park on Friday was a cheery end to the working week, and I am now looking forward to Friskney Show on Sunday! I have entered a painting in the Art Class for the first time, and its always a wonderful day for seeing old friends and buying home made jam and cakes. I hope the sun shines for the day.

Off to collect all my art work from Skool on Monday, which, incidentally, earned a percentage mark of 72 for the year. Some 'boy' coming and going anticipated next week, and so I am dusting off my 'Mum hat' for sporadic wear over the coming days. Excited!

Less happily, no more lady photos have turned up in the postman's sweaty grip. I have almost given up hope. *sad sigh*. I need to put my thinking cap on to consider what may be done in the absence of original source materials. *another small, sad sigh*.