Pepperberry Cottage: 2011

We are newly rural. I grew up on a small farm, and tB grew up on the road, in caravan parks and at various people's places (mostly farms) - but for both of us, most of our adult lives have been spent in cities or towns.

So, last July we brazenly bought 5 acres with a small 100 year old cottage and several sheds, with the idea that we could recreate what we remember as children. This has been one of our primary goals for the last 10 years. Woo hoo!

Now that we're here, we realise, we know nothing. ...Surprise!! I have not miraculously & unconsciously absorbed all the generations of knowledge and skills that my lovely (late) grandmother contained, despite the hours and years I spent with her working out on her farm. I remember seeing her fixing fences. But, umm, how, exactly... ? Grubbing thistles, managing laying chooks, all the heavy lifting of rocks and enormous lumps of wood, sorting out electric fences and water tanks and how to run the bore pump... How did she do it all on her own? I have a new respect for her. I wish I could phone her up and ask her stuff, but regrettably I'm too late for that. Oh dear, we are such townies...

However, we have knowledgable, gentle (and bemused) friends, and a neighbour who is a REAL farmer, who has already provided us guidance. And we are both very capable of learning... so all is not lost. How hard can it be?

In August one of our first jobs was to fix up the chook yard to receive our first housewarming gift - six lovely chooks - the only livestock we currently have of our own. I am still in awe of them. How cool is it to have these creatures provide us with eggs every day?! Grandma had heaps of laying chooks and I remember the delight of collecting eggs, playing with tiny yellow baby chicks and being frightened of the big white chickens.

I soon abandoned my facebook competition to find names for them ("Tandoori, Marylands, Honey Soy, BBQ, Curry, and Satay" were the first names offered. & the first to go. "Boiled, Scrambled, Poached, Fried, Curried and Devilled" were a close second...)

and instead, gave them names of our favourite female authors.

Introducing (tah-dah...!):

Maya (Angelou)

Keri (Hulme)

Sark

Anais (Nin)

Katherine (Mansfield)

I have trouble telling the white ones apart unless they're standing next to each other. Their tails are different - Anais's is quite a shapely, sexy tail, Mary's is smaller, and Katherine's is bigger, slightly ragged & more solid. Mary is the most timid of them all, and Maya is the most confident. The brown ones will run up to us now when we come to feed them or collect the eggs. And, I'd never realised, white chickens lay white eggs, and brown chickens lay brown eggs. Who knew?

And, while trying not to intimate any chicken-based rascist-ness, they hang out together according to colour! When they roost the brown ones are together on one side, and the white ones on the other. Same when they are hanging out in the yard. I have no idea what that's about.

We let them out in the afternoons to roam. They are very good at putting themselves back to bed in the evenings and usually even come when they're called. We just have to watch the dogs don't get out when the chooks are out. We did have a rooster for the whole of 5 days, called Banjo (Patterson), but Girldog got in the chicken coop, chased him out and all the way down to the dam where he had a heart attack and died. Girldog stopped at that point, stood there as if to say, "hey.. what happened? We were playing chasies..." We haven't discussed getting another Banjo yet.