The definition of 'hen-pecked'

Lomond Brown hen, Aracona cockerel.
This afternoon.

Hen pecked

The new hens are out and about now.  Quite confident to explore their new home and the wider world outside the hen run, when the gate is opened.  

This afternoon we were quite surprised to see one of the new hens so intimately preening the cockerel.  He looked quite surprised by the attention.    

We have never seen a hen do this before, and we have kept hens for over 25 years!

A good day for dung spreading.

Found a nest of eggs in the montbretia this morning so have boiled them for the dogs.  They were not consumed as a special treat for Mother's Day! 

It was a good day for dung spreading.

Farmer loaded this hay onto the trailer this morning as he fears it is the source of the eye infection (blindness) some of the Zwartble hoggs have got now.  It is obviously not good for the animals, but involves alot of work for Farmer too.  He has separated them now and treated them, but as they are all hugger mugger round the troughs at the moment it is likely more will show symptoms.  Not good.

Anyway back to the dung spreading.  The spreader is empty so Farmer is coming back to load up again.

Loading up.

Not a bad view from the tractor.

Quick look over at the deer fence - where it leans in (centre right of picture) to the wood is where a feed trough was blown against the fence in a storm!

Down to Calgary.

Full load again and off he goes.

Spreading!

And more. It is slow going.

Another ship passing.

Back to the house for lunch.   The hens love scratching around under the bird feeders.

And in the afternoon, Farmer and I went for a walk with the dogs. It was a nice surprise to be re-united with the long lost dog bowl, which must have blown off the back door step in a storm, into the burn and been washed down the beach.

The green in this picture are the daffodils, planted in the 1970s as part of the Hebridean Bulb venture. A government aided project..which failed. The turf covered wall is part of the late Medieval graveyard.

Putting a home made gate back on to keep the hoggs away from the daffodils.

Cap was happy. He found a ball on the beach.

Interesting things happening in the rock pools, but no sign of any frog spawn yet along the shore.  This picture is salt drying on the side of rock pool.

I dont know the name of this seaweed but we do eat it sometimes.

The dump! (pre 1994 I might add)

Geese and a couple of dredgers working away.  In the winds the last few nights they have come right into Calgary Bay.

And some strange things happening here as well.  We assume it is rotting seaweed from the storms.

Rubbish collection.

And a Mother's Day crocus or three in the garden.

A helping hand and an owl box

Winter light, short days. The wood is in shadow by early afternoon. Farmer and visiting Nephew got one long awaited task done. The first of our two owls boxes is up. Telegraph pole, tractor, rope beach-combed from the shore, beautiful locally made owl box made to Barn Owl Trust design, drill, nuts and bolts, and a bit of luck. It is sited facing a southerly direction (being extremely heavy, it was quite difficult to manoeuvre into exactly correct position), near the Ensay Burn in the 3 hectare area fenced off to allow natural regeneration, back into native woodland.

And on his way back to the house at dusk, Farmer saw an owl sitting on the electricity line.

The birches beside the track from the Ensay Burn up to Treshnish are nearly bare now, very few leaves left on them now, but bright fresh ivy green curling round stout trunks, in the sunshine.

The hens have been enjoying the calm today. This moulting hen is the mother of 2 chicks, who seem to have suddenly doubled in size, but still have that mother dependent high pitched call, and keep close to her at all times. They are shy of the rest of the flock, and the last to come to the food.

Despite being November we had a busy week in the cottages last week. All but one had guests - either enjoying a few nights, or some here for the full week. There were even a few walkers going through the farm yard at times, and walking along the coast. It is also whelk picking time - there have been big tides and with those, and any section of accessible shore line is picked over by one or two regular locals who gather the whelks here every year - they are sold via various dealers on the island and end up in France or Spain for Christmas. It is back breaking hard work, and approaching Christmas the price goes up and it finally becomes more lucrative.

This next week Farmer is needing to gather the ewes. Already some of them are coming down from the hill, to cast their eye over the tups in the little turbine field above the Treshnish steading, standing near the fence, getting in line for the magic date when the ewes are sorted into groups and matched up with an unrelated tup. This is a good chance to mob graze some of the fields and clean up the grazing after the cows.

The owl box can be seen from the track between the main road and the bridge which marks the march between Treshnish Farm and Ensay Farm. It is ever so slightly not standing straight....but I shan't tell the Farmer that.