It’s Spring and though still a little cold in the mornings and at night the resurgent spirit of Spring- it must be a goddess bedecked in flowers- is very much apparent. White apple blossoms contrast with a big bush of red waratahs. Purple, mauve, pink and white hyacinths waft their delicate scent on the air from pots and also in my fenced front vegie/flower garden. We have had rain! Suddenly the little purple hyacinths have emerged and grown overnight- they line one part of the sandstone edged path of the garden and are competing with the luscious growth of silverbeet. Three red tulips- the biggest I have ever grown- stand proud against the large sandstone rock marking my beloved cat, Foxy’s grave. Other bulbs which were a bit stunted and distraught are surging forward, their flowers still a promise. The King Alfred daffodils are already finished for the year, their long leaves falling back to the earth. The crop was poor this year due to tiny snails and overcrowding. There will need to be a massive subdividing of plants in January and digging of bulbs to ensure a better crop next year.
Love is very much apparent in the poultry side of the farm. Our grey/white muscovy duck has successfully hatched four little yellow and brown ducklings. I have successfully hatched, so far, 7 chickens in the incubator. I tried to get some more Pekins as I have a male and a female bantam Pekins- both speckled grey- but none of her eggs were fertile. They are very cute chickens, low to the ground and very gentle, ideal for my granddaughters. Maybe later in the year, I can raise some.
Meanwhile, despite collecting eggs as diligently as possible, two hens are sitting on random eggs at the moment. They are very persistent, as are the other ducks who want to be mothers. However, I do not want a massive surge in the duck population as happened last year. Four new ones are enough. One turkey hen is sitting on eggs. She has a persistent co-sitter which is of course, another duck. This duck is going to be disappointed however, as duck mothers can’t raise turkey poults because they are very susceptible to bacterial disease from chicken or duck droppings. I have made the turkey mums a new pen- almost finished- to keep their babies away from the other poultry.
The other turkey hen, white like the first one mentioned above, is laying a lot of eggs in a separate love nest with a very lucky male. The other 5 turkey males are very jealous of him and are constantly parading near their pen, big tail feathers puffed out, gobbles- if that’s what you call them- on prominent display on their necks. These guys always give me a laugh. They run to the kitchen/dining room door as soon as it opens for scraps, legs splaying out like a bunch of ostriches, pecking at other ducks and chickens who dare to share the feast. The turkey males also fight quite a bit, drawing blood until they’re exhausted, fighting for dominance and the right to mate. Usually the turkey hens are completely disinterested in them. You rarely see them mate and I often wonder if any of their eggs are fertile but miraculously they usually seem to be.
The turkey hen in her love nest with the male is there for a reason. She was the one who would escape the pens each morning to wander around on the grass just toying with death especially when the fox was active last month and I’d have a heart attack- almost-seeing her when I got up and had to race out and feed them all to get her back in. She is also the turkey hen who in her imagination was creating the ideal nest when she started laying on top of a small aluminium shed we have in the garden which is at least 2 1/2 metres off the ground. It was a nest with a view, I’ll give her that and rat and fox proof too. The only problem would be her pouts would have fallen off the roof when hatched. Somehow I thought this was not a good idea, hence the containment option and me wasting an afternoon building her a new nesting box out of an old coffee table. Stay tuned for progress on this unusual potential mother who has laid about 13 eggs so far in the nest.
au revoir, mes amies
amundr 