Jan and Nina, and a friend of their's called Sammi, also very much into the new and much acclaimed way of perma-culture farming, had booked a week-end at a farm in the Prince Albert pass, but although I was faintly interested, I did nor have the money to join them, as this was quite an expensive exers

ize. They were secretly relieved I think, as then I could look after the kids for the week-end.
They came back with a lot of new-fangled ideas and idiologies some of which I just found a bit outrageous, like the chicken coops that are placed all over, with two hens and a cock inside, and which is then shifted every now and then, leaving a small patch of turned over, well fertilized soil, ready to be planted. Inside this coop is also a perch for the chickens to roost on, and also a box for the hens to lay their eggs. To me it was a rediculous affair, as in the first instance, the poor chickens could not escape when the sun was so hot that all living things ran for shade, and although the coop was covered with shading net, I could see that the chickens were suffering from the heat, and in the second instance, I thought it not at all the thing to keep the poor things in such a small space.
But they had learned all this at their week-end outing, and before long a few of this wonder coops stood under the scorching sun, and the chickens inside stood forlornly in the bit of shade thrown by the shading net, breathing heavily, eyes looking unseeingly into the distance. I tried to reason with them, but they were adamant in their believe that this was a wonderful way of keeping chickens, and at the same time make them work for you. Nothing could shake their believe in the doctrines of this perma-culture culture!
One day Jan opened one of the coops to take the eggs out, and one little hen managed to get passed him, and so escaped to freedom, and she must have known that if caught it was the prison again, for she legged it down to the river, cackling like something demented, with Jan at her heels. But this hen was not to be caught, and Jan came back with some skin of his knees from diving at the hen when he thought he was close enough to catch her, but she outwitted him time and again, and disappeared into the low bushes at the river, never to be seen again!
I hope the wee thing managed to make it to the other side of the river and lived happily ever after on the plentyful earthworms down there, but as there was a family of otters living there who played havock with Ronalee's ducks, I had a faint suspicion that the hen became part of their dinner!
In the meantime Lelie was fixed, and the two of us became very attached. As I am very prone to hay fever, Lelie had to sleep in her basket in the room next to me. As there was no door anymore, all the inside doors having been stolen off before I bought the house, I opted to hang a curtain instead of a door, as it was only me. It was so cute when every morning when the light started streaming through the windows, Lelie would lift the curtain with her nose, and stood staring at me, with just her nose and eyes showing. She was such a clever little thing, as she knew she was not allowed in my bedroom, and never tried to take liberties with that.
The picture of the chicken coop was taken of one that didn't work too well, being a bitty small, but they made some that was a bit bigger.