Happy hens
The village has been full of shiny, happy people this weekend as the sun beat down on walkers, gardeners and people just going to and from the shop. My wallflowers are just about to come out, although obscured by orange brick dust created by builder (with shirt on). Yesterday, Mr Grigg, still bathing in the glow of organising a very successful work-related event on Friday, used his bartering skills to great effect, swapping stone for bricks with Packman. The latter's garden is taken over by long-haired guinea pigs, goats and children's toys, which is just how a family lawn should be. Further down the lane, Mr Sheepwash was digging out the foundations for a hen house and run. As Mr Grigg and I wandered down with a bucket to get some tadpoles from the pond, we saw Mr Sheepwash through the trees, digging furiously with his shirt off and listening to his iPod. He spotted us, sucked in his stomach and quickly put his shirt back on. Pelly says I can keep two hens on their patch of gr...