kitchen garden

Rouen Ducks

I told you all about my saga with the chickens, ducks that were really geese and the duck ducks didn’t I? Well, the story hasn’t ended there.

Gradually over time our brown ducks changed colour over the summer. One started to develop a very white chest, the other just a stripe of white around the neck, then one day we saw a glimmer of green on one of their heads. The green spread from around their eye, to their head and then all over. its beautiful, iridescent and similar to the shades of a Peacock. I’d finally found my Mallard ducks, no?

Then they grew. And grew. And grew. Honestly, at one point I thought I was in some kind of fairy tale the rate it was going. I think they’re bigger than our small dog now. My dad kept commenting on our massive ducks. We’re obviously very interesting people in our family, because over the summer we had so many conversations about them that eventually Pops decided he was going to do a bit of research; this is how we found out they were Rouen ducks.

They have colouring identical to Mallard ducks; males have green heads, white collars, black tail coverts and dark, ashy brown tail feathers, a gray body, and a deep claret breast. The female are a consistent shade of mahogany brown, with a brown crown and tan eye-stripes extending from bill to the back of the eyes. It was the eye stripes that had me thinking she was female before her mate’s head started turning green. Both have blue iridescent feathers on the tips of their wings. When you get a flash of it it’s wonderful.

The difference is size; hence our massive ducks. Adult Rouen ducks are significantly larger than Mallards. They can weigh between 6–8 lbs (2.7–3.6 kg) and 9–12 lb (4.1–5.4 kg) depending on how they’re bred. No wonder Bertie is afraid of them.

They originate here in France, and were refined in England in the 19th century. Well the French and English are cousins, so our ties are strong. The exhibition-type Rouen was eventually bred and used as a roasting bird. It does lay eggs, between 35 to 125 eggs a year, however as other breeds are more reliable and prolific egg-layers its size meant its meat was more desirable to eat. In 1861, the famous cook Mrs. Beeton said of it:

The Rouen, or Rhone duck, is a large and handsome variety, of French extraction. The plumage of the Rouen duck is somewhat sombre; its flesh is also much darker, and, though of higher flavour, not near so delicate as that of our own Aylesbury.

She doesn’t sound overly impressed does she?

When they arrived in England, they were variously called Rhône, after the region in southwest-central France, Rohan, after the cardinal of that name, Roan, for the mixture of colours, and Rouen after the northern French town; Rouen was eventually adopted in England and France.

If you’re reading this blog in the States the first Rouen came to you in 1850 via D. W. Lincoln of Worcester, Massachusetts. They were included in the Standard of Perfection of the American Poultry Association in 1874 and since then have won many titles, often having the most entries in the heavyweight class and doing well in competition with other breeds.

All good so far; except that it’s not actually all good.

Do you remember the warning my friend gave me about the goose; great eggs, big doo doo? Well, its the same with these large birds. The thing is with water fowl is their poo is, erm, splatty. The amount of water in the poo makes it decidedly runny so when they go it has a wide reach, believe me. Eventually I had to move them out of the enclosure with the chickens this summer because their poop was all over the hens’ feet and wasn’t nice.

So they went into the wider potagere. I bought them a duck house with a sliding tray to clean easily and they settled. They regularly sit next to the fence where the hens are and quack at them, but they had a lot more space. So problem solved we thought.

Then they bashed down all the dry stone walls I’d constructed in the potagère and ate all the veg I’d been growing. It’s why I haven’t been updating you on the potagere. It’s pretty much been destroyed.

I actually started to move the veg beds elsewhere in the garden and we were thinking of putting a pond in there for them and just having that area for poultry. But that poo.

The potagere backs onto the garage where we keep the car and it was a bit tricky to walk there as it was either yuck, or I’d just cleaned it all down and it was wet. But you only have a short window even after you’ve cleaned it all down with these messy birds.

They’re so big and more and more I look at them thinking; are we being fair? They obviously want to be in with the chickens, but there isn’t the space for them to be with them as the same dirt problems would start again. So we’ve eventually come to the conclusion that it may be best if we get them a new home. More about that later.

In the meantime here’s a some photos of our lovely birds as they are now.

Bye Bye Birdie

I hardly knew how attached I’d become to my little birds prior to bringing them home, or what a challenge they’d be. We’ve sadly had two more losses; a death and one being moved to a better home.

On Tuesday morning I’d walked to school with my girls and come home with the intention of going to the market. On my way to the car I passed the chicken coop and went to let the feathered girls out. As I opened the door I saw it. One of my little ducks was lying on the ground, deflated as if all the air had left his little body. Which of course it had.

There was no mistaking what had happened. He was lying in the middle of the room, so there was no chance that it had been caused by something outside of the coop. As I looked closer I saw he had marks all over his body. He’d been pecked to death.

The goose and remaining duck were running round the coop chirping and, to me, seemed to be distressed.

I called over my husband and thankfully he took charge of the little body. We had a disagreement about what we should do. I wanted to get another bird about the same size and not let their girls know. He wanted to wait and see how the others fared.

As I approached the market I’d made a plan of how to protect the other two birds. I would keep them in a cage each night to protect them. I’d done this when I first introduced each chicken, but the size of the gosling and duckling obviously meant they were open to increased danger.

As I arrived at the market I immediately saw a stand with poultry for sale with ducks the same size and breed as the one we’d lost. I spoke to the man and explained the situation and he seemed surprised that the little one had died. He confirmed what I’d read, that ducks and chickens can live together. He added perhaps mine were a little young and when I told him what my intention was he agreed this was a reasonable course of action.

I made sure to ask him for a female duck this time.

With a new duck in a box I travelled home to put her in the coop. She wouldn’t go in the cage we had and seemed a little distressed. So I gave the chickens a time out for their bad behaviour and locked them in their coop. The gosling and the ducklings were left to room outside in the enclosure.

It became clear as I looked at them all together that the bird that I had already had was a male as the marks around his eye were a lot stronger and you could hardly see hers, which a distinguisher between the sexes in Mallard ducks.

I set off to my parents to borrow their dog crate, which I planned to house them all in that night.

In the evening the ducks went into the large dog crate and the gosling went into the smaller cage I already had, which was way to small for more than one of them now. They’re getting a lot bigger.

The second night the ducks happily went into the large dog crate and the gosling insisted on going with them. They were a firm team the three of them.

We had our French friends over for a barbecue and I showed them the coop with the birds. Being a former townie my knowledge is severely lacking, yet it seems the provincial French have a wealth of knowledge. Our friend Lennie looked concerned. « You know the goose is going to get a lot bigger? »

The thing is that, even though us city folks have seen farm animals we probably haven’t seen them up close since we were children. I take the girls to a petting zoo, but there are no geese there. So I was surprised as Lennie continued that the goose would need a lot more space just to stretch its wings. Annalise, his wife, said « you think they’ll grow how big, like this? » and indicated hip height. « Or even bigger » said Lennie, to my ears, ominously.

We talked about the possibility of the goose going in the wider garden, but as Lennie pointed out his, ahem, waste would be very large and messy. Also geese are known to be territorial and are happy to attack those who think are a danger. This was getting better and better 😧.

It was obvious that we couldn’t keep him. What were we to do? Of course the French being the French responded that we could eat him! 😵I replied that we got all our meat from the supermarket and I couldn’t nurture, then kill and eat him. I was about to add that I wouldn’t have blood on my hands, but it was time to offer the beef burgers and chicken skewers 😉😁.

Lennie suggested maybe a fiend of his could take him, making sure I understood that he wouldn’t be eaten. I was happy with that.

The next morning I got up and let the feathered girls out and immediately noticed that, despite being in the cage, the gosling had marks all down her neck. Any reservations I had flew out the window and I decided on additional steps to protect the ducks. I bought a large dog crate with a metal door on it. Everything was rearranged and that night the three of them slept there safely until I could make arrangements for our gosling. My heart was already breaking from the thought of separating these three amigos.

As Lennie had found it difficult to speak with his friend I spoke with a woman at the school. She’s a teaching assistant there and I remembered that someone had told me that she owned the beautiful duck pond I’d fallen in love with when I first saw our village. I explained the situation to her and she was so kind, suggesting I bring the gosling to her and then the girls could still come and see her.

On Friday night I put her in a pet carrier. My heart is still breaking just thinking of it, but I knew we couldn’t keep the little darling. I drove her to the pond, only a short distance away, and we took her into the pond area.

When I let her out of her cage she wouldn’t leave me. She just stayed nearby, chirping. She could see and here the other foul, but just stayed.

I walked away, trying to give her an opportunity to meet the others, but wherever I walked to she followed. Some large geese came over, three of them. These are really big creatures! No wonder fairy tales have geese laying golden eggs, they must be significantly bigger than chicken ones!

The little one igñored them and just came to where I was stood, further round the pond. I videoed her a little, so I’d having something to show my girls, and moved on. Again she followed. This time the large geese, who had immediately recognised her as one of their own, chased me off. Honking and flapping their wings – they were quite a site!

I came home, amazed at how much I missed her.

We’ve gone a few times to walk down and make sure she’s ok. Each time she’s come over to the fence to say hello. It’s amazing that she seems to have attached to us after such a short period.

The ducks are doing well in the carrier. More on them later.

The First Meal From La Potagère

After my last, sad post I thought I’d update you on some more cheerful potagère news. The weather has turned very warm here so, rather than contain them for the extra week advised by their seller, I’ve let the ducks go out into the poultry enclosure.

They of course had their friend the gosling to keep them company. The trio are forever together and sometimes it looks like the little goose is their surrogate mum. After the loss of the other gosling this makes me so happy to see the little chap have companionship.

Their first night outside I had shown them the old, plastic dog kennel that I’d filled with grass cuttings. It was like a soft warm bed that I kept catching them up and placing them in. Of course the others would be running around and at first this made whichever member of the foul family I had in there waddle out asap. Eventually I managed to get them all in and they seemed to like it.

The produce in the potagère is growing well. My surplus of lettuce is being shredded and fed to the poultry and I’m going to pot some up and take some to the neighbours tomorrow. The beds are kind of crowded you see and reading my month by month veg grower book I’ve started,to think about planting others things that will come to fruition later in the year.

This week we had our first meal with our own grown veggies; lettuce and peas. I waited until my daughters came home to pick them as I thought they’d be excited to do so. I was right. They chatted away as we selected leaves from still growing lettuce, leaving their stems to continue on their merry way. My youngest, seeing me shred leaves that had been nibbled by insects and throw them in with the chickens thought that was the point and was happily grabbing handfuls to give them, eek!

So we moved on to the peas, squeezing the pods to see if they were firm and plucking some that were from the stems. We had them in a salad and I’ve never seen my eldest eat so much green.

I’m still trying to figure out how and when to harvest them; do I just keep them on the vine until ready to eat, or collect and store them? I do know that to store them I have to leave their little ‘hats’ on.

I’ve already spoken of how carrots can be left in the ground even after a frost, but I thought I’d show you how they are popping up from the ground. Yesterday I could only see one group, but I swear that after today’s intense heat lots more seemed to have shown themselves.

The beets have at least one plant that are the size of a golf or tennis ball and others are growing well.

The spring onions have grown so well that I’ll definitely have to harvest some tomorrow. The bulbs on some of them are just lying outside of the earth on the ground.

The red cabbages aren’t ready, but I’m finding how they grow fascinating. You can gradually see the shape form, with the central leaves closing in on themselves and the outer ones spread out.

As I can make space in the beds I’m thinking of broccoli, leeks, more parsnips maybe and carrots too if I can get them (they can stay in the ground so long so can be used in the autumn and winter), as well as Brussel sprouts -maybe even some pumpkins?

The markets here don’t just sell good food, you can buy veggies and some fruit ready to put in the ground to continue growing. I’m going to go with the girls and choose some more things to go in.

To hear the birds sing as you tend to, select and eat your own grown food. Yes, this is life pre fall in Eden. I don’t know why I’ve been blessed with this, but I’m so grateful. To think this was God’s plan for all of us. It still is when His Kingdom comes.

Death Comes To La Sacre Coeur

Last Wednesday I took my little ones to the market. They sell calves, veggies for your potagere and poultry for your backyard and table. There were lots of discussion; would this one just be good for laying or can you eat it as well? For a city dweller’s ears it was a revelation. The girls, of course, thought it was all wonderful and were especially keen to go and look at the various types of chickens and ducks on display.

I was tempted but by the time I came back to give in to the temptation he’d sold out of the ducks that I’d wanted. He told me he’d be at another maket Saturday with more. Perhaps I’d had a lucky escape?

Nah! As Saturday morning rolled around I had the girls in the car and off we went to hunt some ducks down – metaphorically speaking of course. I asked the man for the ducks that were ‘collar vert’ which are Mallard ducks. In they went into a box and we set off for home.

On the way we stopped at my parents place to show them our ducks. They duly ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’, the ducks went back in the box and home we went again. Here are our ducks after we’d put them in the enclosure with the chickens. The chickens seemed quite scared of them at first; running away, clucking loudly and simply refusing to come in at night. This was the case even though the little ducks were in a cat box that I’d put them in to make sure they were safe from the larger birds over night.

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I contacted my hubby in America. It’s safe to say he wasn’t too happy about the additional birds in our coop. I swore to him -these would definitely be the last ones.

We set up a paddling pool and put rocks on one side so they could climb in and out themselves. They made a lovely little cheeping sound whenever you were nearby and followed you around like you’re their mum. Adorable.

On Friday a French friend Sophie came around. She told me ‘that’s not a duck it’s a bird’. I told her that I’d specifically asked for a Mallard, collar vert, and that’s what he gave me. She kind of agreed. Kind of.

That night the ducks didn’t want to go in the coop and evaded me for a good twenty minutes as I chased them round the coop. In the end I thought to myself that they’d evidently been accepted by the chickens so they be ok and find somewhere to nest.

On Saturday morning the girls had to go grocery shopping and we were going to let the girls out on our way. I looked inside and saw one of our ducklings next to the other one; the latter was lying with its feet showing behind the dog kennel that I thought would be their duck hose, in between it and the wall. It was lifeless – my heart broke as it’s pair chirped next to it, staying with him as if for company.

I moved my way inside, ushering my daughters to get back and not come in. I hoped it would move as I got closer. Had it been pecked by the chickens? Was I completely wrong about their acceptance? I expected to find a battered and scarred duckling.

As I looked closer there were no markings. Silly of me, but I wondered if I picked it up if it would move like Apple the hen did after Bertie grabbed her. She didn’t of course.

I searched again for signs of beak marks, wondering if she’d just got trapped between the wall and the kennel. But I couldn’t see how that would kill the little thing.

That’s when I noticed the true extent of how horrible it was. Her head was missing.

She’d obviously popped it out of some hole in the coop and it had been bitten of by a predator.

It’s bizarre. When I was younger my first career was as a police officer. I’ve dealt with numerous dead bodies in various states of decay and coped. Yet this little duck really upset me. Later on as I was driving round trying to sort things out I found myself having to pull over to the side of the road to be physically sick! I don’t know what my girls thought.

Panicking and disconcerted by the memory of the solitary duck next to its dead friend I decided that I had to get another one. I went to the same market and found the same stall open and asked the man for another duck, pointing to similar birds I’d bought before. The man said « they’re not ducks, they’re birds » using the same word, oiseau, Sophie had used.

My mind raced. What did he mean they weren’t ducks? I’d asked him for collar vert canards last time and he’d given me ones just like them.

He was looking at me strangely and I said again « collar vert mallards » and he said « oui » and pointed at a completely different set of birds. I started to panic even more and he was looking at me like I was a little insane so I just asked for two. He was still looking at me strangely (unsurprising really) as he told me I’d need to keep them inside for another fortnight and mentioned a heat lamp. I was asking him if I could just keep them inside and he said yes…..but I’m really not so sure. As the encounter went on it was evident that I didn’t understand what was happening as I struggled with the language and shock (it was shortly after this I was sick), but there I had two little duck in a box in the car, with my girls in the back seat and I was driving to pick up provisions for the new little lives I had suddenly acquired.

After a trip to the garden centre I had a wire cage with plastic trays, straw, appropriate feed and new chicken wire.

As I arrived home my mind was still racing. What is the animal I have? What is a bird with webbed feet but isn’t a duck”? I racked my brains, called my mum who hadn’t a clue and was increasingly confused. Eventually an Internet search of « baby bird with webbed feet, not duck » brought up this image….

Yep. I had a goose, or a gosling to be exact. And on the same page….

Yep. I had Mallard ducklings too. That couldn’t be let out. They went in the cage.

I managed to speak with my hubby about it all and I think my still evident distress helped him be sympathetic to the two new little birds under our roof.

So for the rest of the day I hammered chicken wire all around the base of the coop with four layers going on the inside too. I think they’re safe.

I was bringing the gosling in with the ducks with the cage’s metal divider between them, as I didn’t want the little thing to be lonely.

Ducks poop a lot! I have to clean them out about twice a day and they want lots of water. So yesterday I let them out in the chicken coop as it was lovely and warm out. I gave them a little bowl of water which one immediately jumped in and splashed around.

It was so sweet; the little gosling ran straight over and was so excited when he saw them. The three were inseparable all day. Last night for the first time I took the grill out and they all snuggled up together.

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If I’m worried that they may not be warm enough at night I turn the kitchen heater on.

So. Four chickens, two ducklings and one gosling. It’s crazy town.

The Garden In Bloom

I’ve been out gardening today and I thought I’d share how it and the potagère is coming on.

Firstly I want to post some pictures of our beautiful roses. Their perfume is gorgeous!

I’ve been putting some herbs in pots outside the window where the kitchen will be. The left hand one is a lemon tree and the right hand is a cherry tree, but it shouldn’t grown more than 2ms. I don’t think it will stay in that pot, we’re going to be doing some rearranging in the garden come autumn. I’ll update you later.

By the back door is a wisteria that I planted last year and it’s already growing significantly.

A lot of things, but not everything, is growing well in the potagère too. In the below series of pictures you can see that the potatoes, sugar snap peas and peppers are all growing well. So are the weeds around the pots, ha, but they got scooped up after and fed to the chickens who love them.

In the following you can see the central bed with spring onions, red cabbage, beetroots and parsnips all growing well. The red cabbage keeps getting eaten by slugs though. There are also sweet potatoes there that are growing more slowly, but I think that’s normal.

The right hand rectangular bed has celery, which is growing well, and red onions that are too.

Red onions, with the bûlbs just beginning to show.

The left hand rectangular bed has the carrots, red lettuce, and more red onions which are all coming along nicely.

This is the bed with beans and cucumber in. The cucumber doesn’t seem to be doing well at all and the beans are struggling. I have cucumber in other places too, so it’s not the bed – though evidently I didn’t clear this one out enough as it’s got lots growing in there. Oh well, I said that this was a trial year.

On this side all the lettuce is growing because of the shade. Most of them are getting a lot bigger, although you can see where the shade from the rhodedendrum bush and shed hit as those are a lot smaller. I learnt something about leaf lettuce this week that’s made me realise that I’ve definitely over planted these – but I can always share them with the neighbours.

This bed has the tomatoes and courgettes in. The latter are certainly doing a lot better than the cucumbers! I chose this wall because of the amount of sun it gets and that seems to be paying off. You can see the courgettes are blooming.

When I took the photos the potagère was full of weeds and the girls and I came and grabbed handfuls the day afterwards to give to the chickens who love them. They all stand at the fence now waiting to see what we’re bringing them.

On average now we get three eggs a day. Apple still is in shock I think from the Bertie attack, although she can definitely see out of one eye and her other one is half open. I believe she can see out of that too, but I can’t be certain.

I’ve just done their coop and the lawns whilst my hubby is away and used up all the grass cuttings on the floor of it. They love it, as well as when I use it to line their nesting box. It’s free too -so another bonus!

Although I regularly find poor little Lady Jane in the nesting box sat on an egg. I think she really wants a baby 😞. I was trying to explain to my 7 year old that unless we have a cockerel than she won’t be able to have one. Hey, you’ve got to start somewhere huh?

As Belle likes to fly over the top of the enclosure, but wisely never goes out of the potagere where Bertie is, I let all the girls out to roam occasionally – which they seem to love.

We’ve just gone to take them back in for the night and my youngest ran to sit on the rock that’s in their area. I’ve had to train her to hold my hand and not run around like a mad thing trying to grab hold of them.

I pick one of them up and give them to her as she sits there and she hugs and kisses them (😦). I try and stop her doing the latter, but at least her holding them is better than the former.

Tonight it was Apple’s turn and Lilly kept pointing out ‘eyes’, ‘’ertie’. She remembers.

We had a good look around and they’re excited by what’s growing. Nevertheless I realised that I didn’t know when to pick the produce. So I’ve done a little research and this is what I’ve found out.

Beetroots

You can apparently eat the green tops of beetroots when you’re thinning out the rows. I didn’t plant mine in rows, and I don’t know if I’m meant to be thinning things out 🤷‍♀️. So, that’s going to need a little extra looking into. However I have found out that the size are really a matter of taste and they’re ready any time after you see the shoulders protruding at the soil line. I think there’s long way to go yet.

Cabbages

I’ve read the cabbage head will feel solid when gently squeezed and need to be harvested when they reach maturity or they’ll continue to grow and split open. It seems other veggies are able to stay in the ground a little longer

Carrots

Carrots are apparently hard to judge – as a novice gardener that’s sending me straight to YouTube. What did people do before?

The tops of the carrots show at the soil line and you’re meant to gauge when the diameter looks right according to your variety. Unfortunately i didn’t know any of this and I don’t think I kept the card to know the variety 🤦‍♀️.

I think it will be necessary to pull one out when we’re on target. Luckily, unlike cabbages, they can be left in the ground once mature, so I don’t need to worry about spoiling them if I wait to long. Even a light frost is meant to improve and sweeten the carrot’s flavor, so I’m thinking of using them as and when I need rather than harvesting them in one, massive lot.

Cucumbers and Courgettes

My cucumbers are definitely not doing well as they’re described as ‘racing to the harvest’. I can’t even detect the leaves on mine.

However the same is meant to be true of courgettes or zucchini. The advice is to check daily and take then out quickly when they’re firm and smooth.

Lettuce

I got all leaf lettuce, which you treat differently to head lettuce. With these you need to let it grow to about 4 inches in height and then harvest the outer leaves, leaving the younger, inner leaves to grow. They can go on like this for most of the summer. Like I said – it’s obvious now I’ve overdone it!

If you look at the pictures above two seem ready to go. My pops is coming over on the weekend and I’ll ask his advice then.

Onions

With onions I’m looking for the tops to fall over, which looks something like this….

The greenery needs to go a bit yellow too. Then I need to allow them to dry in the sun, before storing them.

Parsnips

Parsnips, like carrots, are said to taste better if left in the ground until after a frost or two. This is great news as I like them and carrots roasted with a Sunday lunch or in wintry stews.

I’ve read if I mulch them I can leave them in the ground over the winter and harvest in spring. I love roasted parsnips though, and unlike the lettuce I only got a couple of plants. They’re not going to l’as The that long!

Next year I’ll be buying more and harvesting throughout the winter.

Peas

Peas are said to be sweeter if harvested before fully plumped and they need to be tasted to determine if they are sweet enough. So that will be a job for the girls then

Potatoes

I ran out of room with my potatoes and I think I only planted new ones. So I’m looking for the tops of the plants starting to flower which is when I can harvest them.

Next year when I have more beds I intend to plant more and store them.

Tomatoes

My daughter is especially looking forward to the tomatoes, which are her favourite. We were out tying them back tonight and smelling our hands afterwards as that lovely, tomato scent remained.

I can’t wait until they’re red, slightly soft and you can pull them easily from the vine.

Bell peppers

I’m so disconnected from the earth that I didn’t know that bell peppers are often from the same plant, just left to ripen longer.

I’m not a fan of green peppers, so I’ll be waiting for them to turn. If the hubby is in disagreement I can tell him that not only are they sweeter they have increased vitamin C content as well. Being a mega cook he probably knows that though.

The advice is to make a clean cut with a knife or secateurs, being careful not to topple or otherwise disturb the plant in order not to knock off any fruits that are still developing.

Celery

I’d read it was important to blanch celery to stop it going bitter, but didn’t know what that was. I found this helpful video online and I’ve embedded it here.

My celery is just starting to show it’s top, so that’s a job for the next few days.

I’m loving it. I can’t tell you how much joy it’s giving me. Walking round our little patch, discussing the growing plants with the girls, their excitement evident. Heaven.

Golden Plant Markers

These will stand out in your borders – just spray paint with gold and write on them with a permanent marker. When you need to change the name spray paint again.

Le Potagère and the Chicken Coop

In my last post I spoke about my joy at having completed some of the huge stone beds in our potagère and how, in celebration, we’d bought some chickens. Wowee! That opened up a can of worms, if you’ll pardon the pun.

The girls were so excited when we went to Jardiland on our way home to pick them out; I’d spoken of a surprise all day. As we went in the shop Lilly was eager to see the chickens in the enclosure there. She always loves to go and look at them; just a year ago she would scream blue murder whenever I had to eventually haul her away. She’d literally stop the shop! She’s growing up so much as, although she was happy to see them, she wasn’t behaving, well, manically, around them.

However, when the woman came over to get them and Lilly realised something different was happening she became so ecstatic. She was literally jumping up and down on the spot. She couldn’t get any more words out except for ‘This, this, this’.

As I took the trolly to the cash register everyone in the vicinity was laughing, delighted at her delight. She was climbing on the bars of the trolly to take a look in the boxes, in little girl heaven.

We managed to get them home and I had to sort out the food, water, nesting box etc before putting the cluck clucks in the coop. Here’s a video of their introduction….

Then as I shut the door to the coop disaster struck. The uprights holding the gate and wire fencing are made of concrete, but they were evidently too old as when I closed it one broke. I couldn’t believe it. Two chickens in a broken coop!

I managed to temporarily fix it and we all went in, but I’m not exaggerating when I say that I didn’t sleep at all that night. Fear of the cluck clucks being taken by some fox in the middle of the night gripped me. How would I explain that to the kids? Ruby’s set of Role Dahl books with their fantastic Mister Fox took on a whole new, sinister meaning.

I’d been praying all night for an idea to mend the coop when I found myself wandering into the spare room. There was an unused iron bed base and I realised it was the size of the door space.

For the next three days I lugged that bed base between the coop and the shed, trying to work out how to use it as a secure gate. There were many trips to the bricomarché I can tell you.

Each night, desperate to keep the chickens safe and for some sleep, I had to move the chickens from the weakened coop to the bathroom in the studio apartment we have next to our house.

During our first such transportation Ruby watched me pick up the chickens to take them inside. She was fascinated by my holding them and after some time she plucked up the courage – maybe she would try holding them too? Just as I handed her to her Lilly let out one of her excited squeals and the chicken, frightened, flapped her wings.

The opportunity was gone. Ruby had decided, no, holding a chicken was not for her. “Maybe, Mummy, when I’m your age I’ll hold a chicken.”

Closing the door on the chickens in the bathroom I couldn’t help but remember the stories of my grandfather’s set of chickens, given to him by an old lady on his milk round. They lived in the bathroom too, and their feet had grown deformed from clinging onto the side of the bath.

Was history repeating itself? Would I too psychologically damage my children for life serving up their favourite chicken for Sunday lunch one week?

“I want a leg Dad.”

“I want a leg too Dad.”

“There’s only one leg.”

Silence. Wailing.

“Hoppy! Noooooo!”

Ours are layers, not cookers.

As the days wore on and I dragged the bed base around the garden some more, my body becoming more and more tired, along with the same process each night. Pick the kids up from school. Walk them home. Get them dinner. Go into the garden to get the chickens in. Chasing round the garden to grab the dog, to keep him away from the chickens. Being surprised by the reappearance of the dog, let out by Lilly, as I held a chicken in my arms. Trying to get the dog back away from the other chicken with my feet, original chicken still in my arms.

I won’t tell you how chickens express fear. You can guess.

Then, on another half hour drive away to Bricomarché, I came across another dog. A Yorkshire terrier was in the road, obviously lost and tired. I’m English, I couldn’t leave her there. So I had to chase her down and as the Maire was closed she joined the circus that had become my life.

Finally the dog was given to the Maire, the coop was completed, the chickens were permanently placed inside and I managed to sleep.

Ruby’s talking about a black chicken now. And some ducks. I need a drink.

Le Potagère, Red and Blanche

This post has been a long time coming because I had to keep redoing the walls of my raised beds. I couldn’t decide on the design, you can see from my initial post how I’ve changed, and I ended up finding big stones to sit on the bottom of the beds so it was more secure. The work has been back breaking. But I’m so pleased with the result.

I knew it would be expensive to fill the raised beds with soil, so I was waiting for a bargain. Thankfully Lidl came to the rescue with a 20litre bag for 1,30€. I spent two days driving from Lidl to Lidl stocking up; I looked odd with shopping trollies full of soil. Overall I got 96 bags. Yes, you read it right. 96.

It sounds complete overkill, but two thirds of that went in these huge stone beds. The remainder will go in a third bed I’m planning, which will be a diamond shape in the middle (I’ve drawn it in in the image above). I’ve no doubt that the rest of the soil will be well used there.

You’ll notice how in the image above there is a pile of rocks. I nearly broke myself getting that in situ! I’ve placed them there as my folks gave us a sundial for christmas. It’s beautiful, but pointy and not great for children running round. So up high and out of the way seemed like a safer option.

You can see that I’ve continued trimming the tree as this section of the garden continues. I’m plann on a little hedge of various herbs, or lavender where I’ve drawn the scribble hedge; but I’ll have to think carefully about that as they may not get the sun.

I’ve also filled one of the gaps that lead into this section of the garden. I’m making the other one wider as each is a little narrow, so this seems a sensible thing to do. My daughters, standing proudly beside the newly filled in gap, helped with this section a lot. You can see we’ve planted a shaped topiary there as well as some flowers we moved from the shaved off section. I hope the bush grows to fill in this gap more, making that section of the garden quite private from everywhere else.

The girls also enjoyed trampling down the newly placed dirt in the beds. It all seems to be holding up so far!

In the original post I told you how I’d removed a hydrangea bush from the circular section. I’m thinking of planting a small fruit tree there as it will add height and further enhance the seperate feeling to that area of the garden.

So more work to do before we start the planting and I’ve been pretty exhausted by hauling bag after bag of earth, rocks and everything else around. So……I got a little crazy.

In the garden is a fenced in dog pen and…..well……

I’ll tell you more about them later.

Le Potager

My body aches. I started the project yesterday and continued today; the family potagère, our kitchen garden. We have a walled section of garden just to the side and I thought it would be perfect for one, especially as I intend to focus on healthy eating this year. So, with the kiddos off school and little point in my starting internal projects, I thought this would be the perfect way to keep them occupied.

The day was crisp, but not overly cold, as I set to work lobbing branches from an evergreen that dominated the space. I’m afraid I can only show you pictures of the site once I’d started, as I was so eager to get going, but believe me just cutting of as much as I had made an enormous difference to the space and light. It now awaits my husband to get going with the chain saw on the weekend.

When he’s does there will be a tree stump as well as another previous one. As I won’t really be able to plant on this patch I’m hoping to put a chicken coop there one day – though that’s a dream at the moment.

Along the side wall had been a row of Hydrangea – I’ve managed to remove four, replanting one at the side fence (though I don’t know if it will stay there). All the back fence and side wall already have Hydrangea so I don’t feel it’s a loss to remove the others completely.

The area is surrounded in the main by walls as well as some open flower beds. The wall diving it from the rest of the garden is ancient and used to go to the main house. As sections of it have been removed the stones have been used to edge flower beds and created little walls throughout. There’s also a large pile of them next to our neighbours back wall.

When I started to research potegères there was some lovely examples of raised beds with stone edging. As I wanted raised beds this seemed like a good idea for ours.

I’ve made a preliminary plan for the layout based on the little research I’ve done; what to plant and how, bed rotation and sunlight availability and I’ve used this to start to mark put where the beds and paths are going to be. However I’m going to do some more research on other things like companion plants. I’ll write more on this later.

In the meantime it’s turning out to be a challenging, but hopefully rewarding, project for us as a family. The girls certainly like helping, for short periods of time anyway 😉.