If it's not chickens, it seems, it's turkeys. The lovely little bundles of tweeting feathers have, till now, been housed just inside the sheep barn next to the farm dining room. They showed a disappointing tendency to attempt to experience reincarnation in the early stages of their journey to Christmas dinner. It was discovered by Raf & Stein that the special (and therefore expensive), turkey starter food we were buying in was too big. The turkeys obviously hadn't read the bag. So each morning we milled turkey food pellets into turkey food powder.
Today was turkey field day. So, scissors in hand, Raf and I set to cutting wings and putting turkeys in crates ready for transportation. New crates. Apparently turkeys can catch some fairly nasty things from chickens so we bought shiny new boxes for the single journey. I guess its not so important when they make the return trip, although I'm sure we'll at least power wash the crates.
Very hot day, but turkeys seemed to like their new home, immediately fnding the (deliberate) hole in the hurriedly constructed holding pen. They stay in the turkey field but penned up in up netting until they are big enough to have outgrown crow food.
Plucking good time to be had by all.
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