A quick google search for 'Bantams Dorset' lead us to the Mr. Bantam of the area - he has been raising Bantams for 15 years and has 3 or 4 varieties, which gallop around in his garden and dig their way to Australia. We could have had 'posh' show Bantams or ones that didn't quite make the grade. As neither GW or myself see ouselves as Bantam Fanciers or whatever they are called we plumped for the rejects - after all the eggs are the same.
Mr. Bantam chose three Buff Pekins and a Buff Pekin x Wyandotte, all of whom looked perfect as far as we could see, and so off home we go, me with a cardboard box on my knees. GW had been building a run for them (lots of drawing up of plans, trips into Bridport to purchase things, and quite a lot of thinking) so when we got home, in they went along with food and water and we sat down to think of names.
The first one was named Felicity as we got them on the Ste. Felicie (my children often named their pets after the Saints Day on which they arrived, and being half Frog ...); number 2 was named Grace as she is as courageous as Grace Darling; number 3 who is the Pekin x and totally neurotic and horribly bossy was named George after George in the Famous Five and number 4, bless her, is Bessie named after Billie Bunter's sister, as she is rather F.A.T. and tends to waddle.
As George is such a bad influence, I decided to keep them in the pen for the first few days as I could see she would organise the Great Escape. There was much pacing and sulking. But it allowed us time to train them to the sound of food being rattled around in the tin which meant back to HQ. The first sortie was courageous Grace and chunky Bessie and deemed a success so the following day all four were let loose.
I no longer have a worm, a bug, or a grub in the garden. We are now on the front line of the Somme battlefields. My vegetable patch is as cleansed as can be - fortunately nothing is yet planted. I have to go and buy 50 feet of chicken wire in order to ban them from that area as time is racing on and things need to go into the ground for human consumption later in the year. Fortunately the back garden is above the house so I can fence off access to the front of the house and the Great Escape - also when Angus arrives after his quarantine we will hopefully manage to keep Girls v. Scottish Terrier seperate ... in a running battle the Girls will not win!
The Girls are each laying their egg a day and mighty fine eggs they are too - none of this supermarket rubbish. You have to use 2 Bantam's eggs to one chicken egg but they are rich, a deep yellow, full of taste and apparently lower in cholesterol than a hen's egg. And much less white, which suites me.
At the moment they are shut in as a) they normally lay in the afternoon but if they can lay in a Secret Place somewhere in the garden they prefer it and b) George has been totally over the top this morning with Teach Yourself to Fly lessons into the hedge - much flapping of wings and irate shouting from one of the wrens.
Are we attached to these small and charming beasties? Yes. Obsessed? Well almost. Does GW spend half his day talking to them in Bantam Speak? Yes. Are we sad? Definitely. I might even post a picture of them later.
Have a good weekend all of you and I hope your weather is as good as it is here in fabulous West Dorset. GW is on his way home from Brussels and tomorrow I will get him to the garden centre and purchase chicken wire and plants, then the National. Sunday we may go racing, the last pub quiz before the summer season (don't want the holidaymakers spoiling our fun!) and then it is Pig Black Monday. Well actually it will be a Black Sunday for the pigs but on Monday we get together to chop the porkers into bits. Great discussions in the pub the other week as to who wanted a pig and I think that so far there will be 12 people wanting a pig each. Endless discussions on what one can do with bits of pig and I keep throwing a fly in the ointment as having been previously married to a Frog Chef whose motto was 'if it moves, eat it' and follower of the belief that everything in a pig is edible apart from the oink, I asked whether we would have the blood to make Black Pudding, why don't we get the trotters, ears and tail make for a great soup, I want to make saucisson and not sausages, cheeks of pig are wonderful - and I think I will soon be barred from the boozer!
As one who went to the slaughter of her pigs and horrified the Costa Rican men in attendance by salvaging items from the bags of guts they were about to throw away I think I'd be banned from the pub too!
ReplyDeleteClip one wing of your banties...makes them lop sided and can't fly. Hop, yes...fly, no.
@FitW - there is much flapping and the odd few seconds in the air by the Pekins - George being a cross is not so ungainly so is slightly more streamlined - I might have to clip one of her wings.
ReplyDeleteThe porkers go off to Pig Heaven today but have cowardly voted not to assist on their final journey. I love pork too much!
How lovely to have fresh eggs like that x
ReplyDeleteWe kept chickens when I was a child - very The Good Life - and I loved their soft little noises when they were settling down for the night. Lovely creatures
ReplyDelete