I was only thinking the other day that I seemed to be controlling the broody chickens, and that we hadn't had any chicks for a while. In a way I had missed the little bundles of fun, but with so many other things going on I was secretly pleased that none had appeared. There had been no frantic grabbing of gloves, boxes, and climbing up mountains...until yesterday.
My son was supervising dogs, or that is what he should have been doing, however in typical 10 year old style he was exploring. Now his exploring usually entails him finding some piece of junk, which I have to hide and dispose of once he is at school. However, when I heard the distinctive tone of "mummmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeee come quick" I knew this was no typical junk. With that he let out a machine gun speed set of words "chicks,mountain,falling,oh NOOOOOOOO!
I reached the spot but realised that I was in fact on the wrong side of the fence, but was there to witness two very small chicks go cascading off the edge. As I rushed to the bottom orchard I was amazed to see the chicks happily stuck in the furrow, and mum fussing over them. So, operation grab chicken begun, and typically even with only three chicks this took longer than predicted.
We finally had mum and babies contained and released them into the maternity wing, where Peppa gazed hungrily through the wall at them (yes she is still here, manana, manana, manana) they looked so small compared to the other chicks that really should be released into the big bad world of the orchard. I decided that it is nice to have chicks, and I might turn a blind eye to the wandering broody chickens, as long as they return with chicks!