Morning everyone – it’s day 10 today and the prompt is:
November 10, 2013
Do you own a garden? What do you grow?
We have a garden, but we rent our house. As a result I’m wary of planting anything for the long term, we are now in the midst of planning a cross-country move to be nearer the university campus we both attend as right now the two hour round trip is suffocating us a little! I do hope our new place has a garden too.
We keep hens in our garden – 7 to be precise. We have four ex-battery hens, a faverolle (my favourite kind of hen), a black rock and a weird cross that I’m not quite sure about. Did you know that hens lay different coloured eggs? We used to have a cream legbar hen, she layed blue eggs. They all taste the same but it tickled the children :)
Buddy with some of the ex-battery hens we rescued from A Wing and A Prayer:
In the photo above, Buddy is lying just beside a cherry tree that has a bit of a story behind it. When I was in labour with G, it was taking quite a bit longer than my labour with E had and I kept comparing how long I’d been in labour. As a result, I refused to get into the pool (“There’s no point, I’m going to give birth in half an hour“) and refused to take any pain relief (“There’s no point, I didn’t need it when I had E“). Four hours later when it was time to push and I’d been in labour for 14 hours, I was absolutely knackered so I decided to use the gas & air. BIG mistake. HUGE. I really react beautifully to it, hallucinating and all sorts. So in my post-birth, pre-placenta gas & air fug, I grabbed Bob by the collar and hissed at him to take my placenta home.
Three days later, I’m snuggled up in bed at home with my tiny gumsy slug baby. We’re dozing off to sleep when I suddenly start laughing. I can’t stop. Bob sits up entirely bewildered and asks me what’s wrong.
Me: “Bob. Did you bring my placenta home from the hospital..?”
Me: “Why on earth did you do that?!”
Bob (totally bewildered by this point): “Because you told me to!”
Me: “And you did it?! Where on earth is it?!”
Bob: “In the fridge”
Thus, the very next day poor Bob had to dig a 6ft deep hole to bury the placenta and plant a cherry tree on top. When we had to move house two years ago and leave behind the garden we’d worked so hard on, all that we brought were the hostas and this cherry tree. It managed to bear about 6 cherries this year and it’s probably a weak tree after being moved, but it comes with us to our new home. That’s the rule.
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