August 31, 2025

Keep on clucking

We crossed our fingers this year and hoped our ageing bantams might still be able to produce a few eggs for another season. We thought they might have reached the menopausal stage in life - if that's the correct term for hens - and had earned the right to live out their remaining time in retirement.

 

It was therefore a genuine surprise to realise two of our five remaining chooks have clearly responded to the urge to lay. It remains to be seen if the other three will rise to the challenge, and refuse to be outdone, or whether they will decide they're over it, choosing instead to eat and sleep their way to finally dropping off the perch.


Most of the girls are at least six to eight years old, and while we’ve noticed over the years bantams continue to lay longer than full-sized chooks, they’re all still long in the tooth and presumably will stop laying eventually, or at least slow down their production. Weather plays its part and that has certainly gone backwards in the last few days. What has hopefully been winter’s last gasp has put the brakes on. This could also be behind the others’ reluctance to produce, and take advantage of freshly laid hay in their palatial nesting boxes, or if they will scorn these and go bush, which is not unusual. At least we’re aware of some previously used and favoured sites around the property that will need to be checked out just in case, as the egg-laying season gets underway.


Hearing another cackle this morning is a good sign one of them has done the deed!


Fingers crossed.

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Magni
By Anne Layton-Bennett June 14, 2026
It’s taken far too many months for this marvellous model to grace the dedicated desk space in my office. When Fiona comes to visit next she will be very surprised, and hopefully gratified, that her amazing creative talent is finally on display. We’ve known each other for a very long time, and during the insanely busy time when I was helping to run the flower farm, working part-time in a school library, doing a spot of journalism on the side, and fighting the proposed pulp mill that is the subject of the manuscript I’m hoping to get published, Fiona cleaned my house each week. There’s only so much a person can do after all, and it has to be said cleaning our house during those manic years was fairly low down on the list of my priorities. But Fiona is a woman of many talents and she certainly possesses one that I so don’t have: sewing and dressmaking. So over the years she’s also made a few garments based on the pattern of a favourite garment that I was particularly fond of, and she’s also done some clothing alterations for both of us. My skills with needles and thread are limited to sewing on buttons, and taking up hems on John’s too-long pairs of jeans. Anything else is beyond me. But this fabulous model is the pièce de résistance – along with the beautiful crocheted knee warmer she gave me last year. This was when winter was approaching and so determined was I to finish writing the book, I decided to get out of bed at the insane hour of 5am and get in a solid hour’s writing in before dog walking and the demands of the day took over. Fiona was also one of many Tasmanians who needed to be circumspect about her opinion of the pulp mill. It was a project that polarised people, including families and friendships. She was one of several who passed on snippets of useful information, but on the basis of anonymity so it couldn’t be sheeted home to her.  Needless to say Fiona will be one of those whose contribution will be acknowledged – when this book is finally accepted by a publisher.
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