An Charraig

Friday 29 Feb 2008
In the morning onf the 29th of february, I was walking along the plastic tunnel to feed the chickens. Then I saw a chicken laying on the ground and I was wondering if she maybe had some eggs underneath her. So I tried to get her up and watch underneath her and then, instead of eggs, what already would have been a nice surprise for me, I saw two tiny, fragile, pink paws underneath her. She managed to already made two chicks totally on herself and now we have two new members at an charraig: Ko and Ko.

Unfortunately, the circle of life has to keep on circling, and Beta, a lovely egg layer for An Charraig died in the next week. RIP.
by Cassandra Jacobs

Watch our chicks at youtube

Friday, 22 Feb 2008
To save our kitchen garden from the busily picking beaks and zealously scrabbling feet of our imperialistic chickens, we needed to cut their wings. We were five people, mingling between the about 20 chickens, shooing and grabbing them, holding and cutting their pinion feathers on one side, lure them with food and following them to and fro, sometimes just to find out, that we already cut them. Imagine the cackling and gaggling of the chickens mixing with the clucking and chuckling of us and the roistering roosters commenting it!
After about an hour we had almost all the wings cut and one cock more, than we expected. Unfortunately our chickens are smarter or at least more dexterously than we presumed, as there are still chickens seen in our garden on a regular base…
by Franziska Bauss

Thursday, 14 Feb 2008
Today Sarah and I got up at half seven to catch the morning ferry to Rossaveal, to buy some fish. When we entered the market place, ten men in white goans were busy passing rows of boxes with fresh fish, murmuring something and laying papers on it. It must have been the auction, though it looked more like doctors commenting patients, sometimes throwing ice to the side to get a better view on their physical condition. Every now and then another man with a long hook would come and pull the box away over the slippy floor.
After the manager nearly stepped on me without showing any reaction, Sarah and I practised wallflowering until they were done with the business. Then we were allowed to have a look on the two kinds of leftover fish. We took 24 kg of the less fishy tasting white fish. At the sight of our two black sacks, the boxpulling and bagfilling man, shook his head in despair and predicted that the fish might crash it. He was true, one of the bags started to leak after a while, so we left a not yet smelly trace all along our way.
Even more fun was the neck-braking and head-cutting back home to freeze the fish for the next months. Our cats will be living happily ever after eating fishheads.
by Franziska Bauss

Tuesday, 5 Feb 2008
Marco to came over to eat dinner with us. Janina got to know him some weeks before at the pub and he invited us to some Pizza at his place.