Well, alack! This morning I had a dead chook in the chookabago. We were rushing to Church fair so I didn't have time for a full post-mortem. I called Ducky but he said his name wasn't Chicky, and I would have to deal with myself. By the time we got back burial was in order, and dissection wasn't. One of them was a bit off color and not taking tit-bits from the chook-bucket yesterday morning. And I did hear a hullaballoo yesterday afternoon, so either someone laid an egg or a passing snake came egg-hunting. I don't know which, or if she was sick. Anyway, we will just stick with 2 chooks for a while.
The highlight of the fair was Pippa's (my neighbor's daughter) pony, as Rosie was a major hit with the stream of kiddies. She apparently did fifty 'rides' - and this must average about 3 per child in our vast population, and was much loved and petted, and will doubtless be causing horse-shaped holes in many parents pockets soon. My sandwiches (yes, my role) will probably not kill too many people. And we got more milk. The bargains you get here! The cartons say 'permeate free', which I imagine is like free green stamps. We've drunk one carton and not found the permeate, so I shall write and complain. Actually the fair is another example of the island community. Perhaps a 1/4 of the people involved have anything to do with the church, but on the other hand the church does do one of the most important (sadly) island tasks, the funerals. So everyone chips in.
The rose garden at the Whitemark Multipurpose center (where the fair was) makes me feel piteously inadequate as a gardener. Not that I am very much of a flower grower (does cauliflower count?), but the volunteer tomato plants make mine look so feeble.
I found two pea-pods this evening. We feast!
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