Many years ago we decided it would be fab & groovy, if not a little bit hippie-ish to keep our own poultry, so one day we ended up at Ross-on-Wye bird auctions buying (strangely enough) birds.
We came home with four, young, speckled Marrans and installed them in their spanking new chicken run.
Two of them promptly leapt on the hen house and then on the pen fencing and then to freedom (briefly) but a roof soon sorted that.
They each had names and they each had character.
Our first ever egg was laid by Stacey.
Despite all being Marrans, possibly all from the same clutch, they each laid different eggs. Stacey’s were very distinct, matt and speckled but the speckles seem to be applied after the “top-coat” rather than underneath.
We had Stacey for over 10 years. She manged to outlive all her siblings whilst avoiding fox attacks, mink attacks, rough handling and general malaise.
One day the old lady looked a bit peaky and the next day she was gone, consigned to history, a chapter closed. She’d had a fabulous innings, laid many beautiful eggs and we’d gorged on her contribution.

Many years ago Jane took on an allotment. In the fullness of time I built her an allotment shed upcycled from wooden palettes. We also built a greenhouse along with the other trappings of allotment life.
The shed and greenhouse roof drainage was collected in three, blue, plastic water butts that had previously been used to hold sausage skins having previously been used to ship mango chutney. I’m sure there’s another story there…
Into each of the water butts was placed a goldfish to keep the water clear.
In the winter the butts froze and in the summer they contained barely any water.
Often when first arriving at the allotment and passing by the butts you would see the brief flash of orange as the surface-feeding fish darted to safer depths.
Just this last weekend, whilst repairing the shed roof, I noticed the little fish cruising around the butt. It didn’t appear any larger than when we first placed it in there and it must now be around twelve years old.
How bored must that fish be?

What is becoming obvious is that if you let Jane look after you then you have a long and happy life albeit left outside during the winter and possibly stuck in a water butt and ignored for 12 years.

I can think of worse things…