30may25

The chicken who kept escaping and running around the garden for hours having the time of her life eating worms and bugs? She died this morning. Looks like she came down from the roost, had something to eat and died on the spot. This happens with the rescue chickens. They arrive so used up that sometimes they just pop off. It often presents, as in this case, that they leaned forward to have a nap and die with the top of their head resting on the ground. It’s gentle and instant, thankfully. But she was fun, and it’s a bloody shame. So I started my day by digging a grave for her, which time and energy expenditure puts me well behind the moment today.

It’s sunny and warm, enough so that I just pulled a linen shirt out of the summerwear. My inbox is ridiculous right now and I still have to finish a big script.