April 1, 2026

Never say never

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Just when we thought three of our four remaining ageing bantam chooks had finally laid their last eggs, and had reached the equivalent of chook menopause, I was surprised to hear the telltale self-congratulatory cackle this afternoon, indicating one at least had just done something special of which she was inordinately proud, and so was announcing it to the world. As chooks do. Sure enough, when I checked one of the nesting boxes in the chook house - that is often scorned by these picky feathered girls in preference for 'going bush' - there were four eggs. It appears that once again two of them had chosen to share real estate. In this case a former recycling tub, repurposed as a nesting box. So our dwindling egg supply has been replenished. Pretty good going for chooks that would have to be nine or ten years old if they're a day.


And what of the fourth you may be wondering? Well she definitely had gone bush, but I finally discovered her nest a week or so ago, and have been relieving her of some of her eggs for several days. She was a blow-in - a refugee from former neighbours who thought they'd rounded up all their chooks before selling their property and moving on, but failed to realise this one had 'gone bush' and was sitting. She was wasting her time as the eggs were infertile there being no rooster, but it can take several weeks for hopeful chooks to realise and abandon the nest. This larger bantam chook emerged on the day the neighbours were literally packed up and were about to drive off. Panic! We suggested they chuck her over the fence to join ours girls, which they did. So sandy bantam eventually settled in with our three black ones but we have no idea how old she is. Since our former neighbours left six years ago she'd have to be at least seven.



Maybe these bantams’ ability to keep on laying is a sign that being literally free range encourages a happier, healthier and more productive life. Whatever, I'm not complaining, and when the time comes for them to really stop laying, they've all earned the right to their retirement. Whenever that might be.

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Badger the beagle

The secrecy around toxicity testing on animals

By Anne Layton-Bennett • August 4, 2026
An Animals Australia article that highlights the use of toxicity testing of chemicals on animals is still being done around the globe.

Finding a publisher could be getting closer

By Anne Layton-Bennett • July 22, 2026
Attracting the interest of a publisher for this story of a community’s campaign to stop what would have been ‘the world’s fourth largest pulp mill’ being built was never going to be easy, but hoping the first of two 3-minute Literary Speed Dating pitch sessions will prompt at least one of the two publishers to request the full MSS. And preferably both of them. These twice-yearly Perfect Pitch sessions are offered to members of the Australian Society of Authors, and this is the first time I’ve taken advantage of them – mainly because of the need to have a completed MSS before doing so. Three minutes isn’t long to excite the interest of a publisher who is after stories in very specific genres, and who therefore needs to believe your MSS is worth investing the time needed to read it in full. I’m pretty certain I’ve excited the necessary interest, but given Jane will hear the pitches of many more optimistic and talented writers after my morning session today, there are no guarantees. That initial interest might well wane as the day goes on if other writers have written stories that sound far more intriguing – and marketable. One can never forget that aspect of publishing these days: will the book sell. I believe my story will – certainly in Tasmania it definitely will – but a wider Australian readership? That’s an unknown even if my mentor is convinced of the story’s universal appeal.  I’d certainly like to think I’ve caught the zeitgeist wave given the current widespread community unrest over AI data centres, that’s already prompting similar serious opposition, and for many of the same reasons the Tamar Valley’s community opposed the pulp mill. Environmental degradation, threats to public health, water usage – and water shortages in an era of escalating climate extremes – and the constant, relentless noise factor that’s associated with data centres, and AI data centres in particular. I’m crossing my fingers that the second pitch session will be equally positive, and that I could strike it lucky with both publishers requesting to see the full MSS. But I won’t get ahead of myself. I’ll just be keeping all fingers and toes firmly crossed for the next seven days.
Magni

Fiona's gift

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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