Friday, November 8, 2013


A couple of weeks ago I mislaid Jennie. 
Negligent? Nay, surprisingly easy in a large garden. But today I discovered she was savouring the mild autumn from underneath a lilac bush. Underneath her fluffed up body were a dozen warm eggs.  
She had the radience of any expectant mum. From my studio window I could just catch flashes of amber through the leaves, as the sun burnished her feathers.
Hmm, what do I do now, leave her be and chance the perils of the night? 

My birthday today was well timed. 
Gifts included one mincing sausage attachment for my Kenwood. 
Two pork cook books. 
Three piggy cards... 

Chorizo recipes make gripping bedtime reading... honestly

Booked pig a date at the abattoir.

Bonfire night. For a pig, (unaware that it might be the next sausage at the next bonfire party), that means one thing... leftovers! Viva called round this morning with ‘turnip a la rhubarb avec du pain'. 
It’s not every day Joan gets served from Le Creuset! 

Despite having survived many nights camping wild, this morning Jennie and her eggs had disappeared. I'm feeling horribly guilty that I didn't intervene and provide her with shelter sooner. A couple of bedraggled feathers are all the loose change the fox left behind... 

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