The comfrey juice still lingering in the air, the ground boggy from the juice and days of heavy rain it's now a case of disenfectant and washing/brushing off the concrete to get rid of any moss and disease. Little D returns from his running away from the comfrey smell to oversee the situation and basically give a running commentary of, 'Why are you doing that?/It stinks! Oh, the smell is abhorrent (a newly learnt word that has come with the tipping of the comfrey)/Pewww!/Mummy, can I do that?/I want to do that/Does it smell?' This commentary is on continuous loop and we have to move a chicken coop soon, first we have to catch the chickens, Little D has to watch them (and boy did that go spectacularly wrong) and then take the coop to pieces so we can move the coop and run separately over slippy, muddy ground. Not the best idea but chickens do need to be moved, like crops the soil can hold diseases and viruses for livestock too, so rotation is the game here.
We're halfway up the hill when Little D screams, 'Gene Simmons has made a break for it', no one saw that as a sentence that would ever be uttered in their life. Gene Simmons apparently jumped out of the temporary run and we think this has more to do with Little D who we catch still strutting around and crowing loudly. Gene Simmons is under the hedge, in the hedge, behind the glasshouse, on the opposite side of the garden, basically strutting his stuff whilst crowing, 'God gave feather and eggs to you'. Eventually, in a startling but somewhat botched and slippery pincer movement we catch him and back into the temporary pen he goes with another running commentary from the sage world of Little D, 'Naughty Gene/Bad Gene/Shouldn't have done that, Gene/Ho-ho, oh-oh, no-no, naughty chicken'. Words to live your life by. After another ten minutes of struggling and trying to remember where we put the screws to put the run back on the chicken coop, all is settled and now we have to catch the chickens in their temporary pen. Easier said than done but after twenty minutes, a lot of cardio work, the chickens are in their new home. It is at this point that Carol notices the run is slightly twisted and as she stares at my frazzled eyes, the words, 'Shall we just twist it that way...' drops to the mud beneath her feet. 'Another day?'. Yes, another day.
Thankfully, this move seems to have shaken up Mrs Cluckerbuck and over the coming days she actually starts to lay her first eggs and we are delighted as the chickens start to pay their way in the garden as weeders, fertilisers and food.