Macanultaigh

Goodnight Wülferhampton!

Just had a fairly normal sized whisky, but it seems to have hit me quite hard.
Off to see if I can find my bedroom.

a man in a suit and tie is standing next to another man in a cap and gown . ALT: a man in a suit and tie is standing next to another man in a cap and gown .

Piss AND compost!

That's fine.
Not getting involved any further.

I think she was in her teens and he in his 50s when they first met.
She was also rather unpopular (but not with him).
Luckily, being a strapping bloke in my 50s, I am unlikely to be called by fate to the role of royal mistress.

Who's Joy?

Mid 19th century Belgian standards of beauty may have been different.

He may also have seen qualities that may not be apparent in that picture.

He may have just gone hell for leather for the name.

They have an urge to roost at dusk. They do learn quickly to go to the henhouse.
Sometimes it's a bit problematic with new ones as the old ones don't want to let them in yet. They are the evenings when I have had toburrow under a shed, conduct a finger tip search, or end up crawling into yhe bushes.

Moving away from the chickens for a bit, I learnt today that King Leopold I of Belgium had a mistress called Arcadie Claret.

A marvellous name.

And an excellent name for a chicken.

Especially as she ages into the coq au vin stage of her career.

Back to chickens again.

Would you be prepared to start with an egg and work your way up?

I know! I feel like we are at a new level!

Chickens are fantastic.

But also a pain in the arse.

It is. Even better than weeing on your compost heap.

It is. Best selling authors from the 30s are hardly remembered.
I like Anthony Berkeley's crime fiction, but they're hard to get (a few have been republished). One reason is his detective's antisemitism.
Possibly just a minor character trait as far as the author was concerned, but aged like milk.

Absolutely!
Hen turds are fantastic compost accelerants though.
Dump them in with everything else and they really speed things up.

I am going to deny the existence of any photographs showing an enormous hen turd next to ruler for scale.
Likewise any dried samples.

a close up of a man 's face with the words `` all those moments will be lost in time '' . ALT: a close up of a man 's face with the words `` all those moments will be lost in time '' .

Now we have agreed to have bantams, those giant turds will be just memories.

Pick her up and pop her in the rear door.

Sorry, that sounds rather obscene.

There's a back entrance used for removing the faeces.

No, not helping.

Take her round the back.

No. Giving up.

Can't we set up a crowd funder to buy that poor man some socks?

We had one hen who did massive turds: as big as her eggs.
I often used to gaze on them in awe.

Not necessarily. Vampires are natural cricketers: they are really tuned into their bats.

Me too!

The seemed happy. Settled in quickly.
We'll be getting a couple more in the next month or two, so that'll be fun. Chicken team building and sorting out the pecking order.

The light came on 5 minutes before the door shut!

Then went off just as the door shut.

Also important was that it was easy to clean their shit out as it dropped through to the tray below.

count von count from sesame street is a soccer superstar , two soccer superstars , hahaha . ALT: count von count from sesame street is a soccer superstar , two soccer superstars , hahaha .

A sock account! Lawks! Will the be no rest for the peasants and self's of Wülferhampton from the tradition of the unscrupulous?

Sock account makes me think of the Sesame St vampire playing football.

I know my life is quiet, dull even.
My highlight today was standing in the garden, in the rain, and then watching the timer door on the hen house shutting.

I feel I may have reached a new low.

a woman is sitting in a chair on a stage with a group of people behind her and the words cinegif on the bottom ALT: a woman is sitting in a chair on a stage with a group of people behind her and the words cinegif on the bottom

Why a sock?
Maybe the left over sprouts have acquired sentience?
Not me, btw: I have no socks. Stockings and suspenders for me.

Rat kebab deserves chilli sauce and a bit of yoghurt.
And a decent burial.

Is Chris P Rat a relatively of our own @poisonousratbag.bsky.social ?

Now abed.
Bottle of Lagavulin secreted under the bed like I am a high end alcoholic.
I may indulge: i may not.
Sleep well.
May the spirits of your places be kind.