Today was our Poetry afternoon. It goes from strength to strength and is always such an enjoyable afternoon. There were ten of us today and we read poetry by Edmund Blunden, Philip Larkin, R S Thomas, Dorothy Parker, WH Auden, amongst others. We have a brief discussion after each one and the afternoon passes in a flash.
There was an extra highlight for me today. The friend to whom I gave a dozen eggs for hatching lives next door (and comes to poetry). Sadly only one of the eggs I gave her hatched out - we wonder if the eggs (which were pullet eggs) were too small for the chicks inside because when they looked into the eggs the chicks were perfectly formed but very tightly packed into the egg. Does anyone have any experience of this?
However, the one chick that did hatch out is the image of its Buff Orpington dad (I can't help feeling that it is a cockerel as it is already well advanced with wing feathers and is only a week old) and they have bought another five day old chicks to join it. Talk about being well-looked-after! They are residing in a special box in the sitting room and are getting plenty of TLC - just like the four pullets in the garden, who come to the first call from S. I thought of you John Gray - they are getting the same sort of treatment that you give your livestock. Oh and I forgot to say that they all have names. I dare not tell the farmer!