My head is full of flotsam and jetsam at the moment, so I figure the best way to disgorge it so that I can use my limited head space for something useful is to empty it here.  I hope you don’t mind.  I don’t think any of it is likely to bother your brain as it does mine–rather like the jingle you can’t get out of your head–well, you know what I mean.

Rooster Tails

The first item is an update on the saga of my rooster, Ella, with the bare butt.  You may recall that the (then) Number Two Rooster, Louie, challenged Head Rooster, Ella, for the Number One Position.  And won.  Disgraced and humiliated, Ella was left with neither tail nor dignity, so he disappeared into the woods.  After a couple of days he started appearing from various outposts, creeping up to within my sight so that I would feed him.  Between us, we worked out a pretty good routine so that he didn’t have to re-join the others–namely the dastardly Louie.  Then, one morning I discovered that two of the Supremes were missing  (there were three black Australorp hens, which I couldn’t tell apart so they were collectively known as The Supremes).

Where was I?  Oh, yes, the missing hens.  Well, as I reported here previously, there being no sign of struggle, I figured Ella had lured them into the bushes.  Now I’m not so sure.  I reckon they’ve just run away to a neighbouring chook yard.  Meanwhile, Ella has become quite chummy with me.  In fact, he spent most of yesterday afternoon in the courtyard.  I think he’s lonely.  Chooks are sociable animals and Ella misses his mates.

Louie, on the other hand, has reduced his social circle to one hen–the remaining Supreme– who, I might add, is becoming very bald across her back.  I reckon she’s lost as many feathers as Ella, but just across the middle of her back.  She looks awful.  Some of you may be wondering what happened to Blossom, dearie.  Well, she continues to hide out in the hen house.  I know bantam hens are inclined to go broody, and that’s a bit how she’s acting, but the reason she was given to me was that her previous ‘owner’ got her specifically to be a broody hen and she wouldn’t do it.  So I got her when she was three years old.  Broody?  I don’t think so.  I think she’s hiding out from Louie, who jumps on her every time she steps outside, and it makes her furious.

The Devil and Miss Prym

by Brazilian Author, Paulo Coelho

If you enjoy irony, you will adore this book.  It is a charming tale–I’m not certain whether to call it a parable, a folk tale, or what–but its pleasure is in its wit and irony as it spins a fun, but insightful story of Good and Evil.  I recommend it.

A final Item

I’m having some work done on the house at the moment and one of the jobs is getting the deck cleaned and oiled.  On Friday we had what was for Tasmania an unusual and  rather exciting storm, complete with small tornadoes. I didn’t know about those until later.  What I did know about was the very black sky and the bit of hail, and the very heavy downpour.  The fellow cleaning my deck continued working through it all.  Now that’s dedication!

That’s it for now.  Time to go collect my one egg for the day.         MM