Chickens in a box

Bath time and the end was in sight, James was whinging because William wanted to get out first so I dried Will quickly and let him go while I fished James out of the water. As it was early the plan was to watch The Night Garden for a bit before bed. With James dried and in his jim jams I called for William but he didn't answer. Shouting a bit louder (and starting to get cross) he still didn't come. So I went downstairs thinking he'd be fiddling with the telly - no one there. Starting to worry and with James trailing after me holding Will's pyjamas I called and called whilst looking in all their favourite hiding places but there was total silence. The front door was locked, but the back door wasn't, and the wind had blown open the door into the garden. By now I was really worried, visions of some nutter coming into the house and grabbing Will ran through my head and I called Eddie in a panic to tell him I couldn't find William anywhere. Screaming round the...

The leaves are beginning to turn and the garden's looking straggly, the blackberry bushes and orchards are beginning to ripen and Eddie has started muttering about his 'Autumn Strategy. This will involve hours of foraging, stewing, measuring, bubbling and bottling, and I'll start to find demi-johns of noxious liquid squatting in the airing cupboard. In the meantime with my dreams of owning a dog (temporarily) on hold , I have turned my attentions to a potentially easier and more productive creature - the chicken. After spending the weekend looking after the school chooks Muffin and Waffle, who rewarded us with two fabulous eggs, chickens are the way forward. I've always wanted some and our garden would be perfect for a couple of little furry bantams to scrat about in. Time to do some research.