Bleary-eyed, I found my way to the chicken coop early this morning. I am getting up around 7 to go let them out as a new routine. The house is still quiet at that hour as none of us are early risers. Being at home for so many consecutive weeks has allowed us to find our natural rhythm. After apologising for being late in letting them out, sunrise is in fact at 4.55 A.M. I hasten to add, I fed the chickens and went back to the people house. The rain had started sometime in the very early hours so there was a dewy sweetness in the air and it seemed as if all of the pollen had been washed away. With the weather being so hot lately, my hay fever has been quite troublesome. I came into the house quietly, crept upstairs and peeked out of the curtain as I always do just to have a look towards the barn and my nasturtium plants. I guess I look out of curiosity to see if they’re looking well and on sunny mornings to see if the sun reaches that spot. It does, except for today, of course. Their leaves were reaching up towards the sky and even looked as if they’d grown over night. It’s a welcome change to see all of the plants enjoying a much needed drink. It is so true that there’s nothing like rainwater to give everything a lovely boost. I have been keeping one of the windows slightly open at night for air and night noises so when I got back into bed, I listened to the rain that had started again. A while later, we all got up and decided it would be an indoor day. There are always a great number of jobs to do inside as well as a bit of schooling and lots of play. Inspired by one of the children’s favourite cartoons, they asked if we could make some “Straw-nilla” cupcakes. They are very simple to make with just a gluten free sponge base, strawberry jam crammed into a little hollowed-out middle and vanilla buttercream frosting to top it off. I cobbled together the ingredients as I didn’t have quite enough self-raising flour and lots of the wrong kind of butter. If you go for strawberry and vanilla in there somewhere, you’ll get the flavour right. They love helping and really do help so it’s a fun and delicious time well spent. We had a satisfying sort out in the playroom which always revives their interest in toys and games they often overlook. The time came to go out and check if any more eggs had been laid and to maintain a presence around the chickens in order to deter sneaky rats. I popped into the garden also to pick a few radishes. We found two eggs had appeared in the nest box and gave them a ‘thank you’ gift of some vegetable peelings and plain spaghetti. They go into a frenzy when they see that coming and usually so does Rosie. She is our dearest, tamest, sweetest little chicken spirit guide of all. She is the only hen our son has named because she loves following him around, allows us to stroke her and has heaps of personality. She’s the pet who has taught us that hens are funny, lovable, and deserve to be thought of as creatures with soul. Our son brought to my attention that she wasn’t joining in this evening and even looked unwell. This is definitely not normal we kept saying. She just stood in the doorway of the coop and looked tired. We could all see that something wasn’t right and decided not to bother her by coaxing her out or touching her. By the time we climbed out of the enclosure, she had laid down and I knew she wasn’t okay but WHY HER? The others were still picking over the scraps so we had to come back in an hour or so to put them to bed. Maybe she would perk up and go to roost by then. Back in the kitchen, I made up a jar of pickled radishes full of worry for Rosie. I looked out and saw the children’s circus tent blowing across the lawn. Dashing out to grab it, I felt a sadness and was amazed at how quickly things can change where animals are concerned. It reminded me of pets I’d had as a child and how deeply I felt each loss. After recovering the tent and a call to my partner’s Father, we went out to check on Rosie and close the coop for the night. She had found her way to a corner but was still on the ground. What do you do? I’ve only had chickens for the last 7 months and had no idea what to do next. Luckily, my partner has past experience and a wise Father. We could leave her and check on her in the morning, but there were a lot of reasons not to. Our dear girl had to be dispatched by us and not left to suffer any kind of horrible end. We went in to get her and it was decided. I had to go back to the house but held her and thanked her for so many happy times and lovely eggs, and for the fact that I’d begun crying uncontrollably! My partner took her down to a beautiful place in our woods and that’s where she is now, in the earth. I feel such admiration for him, caring for her and being able to do what is necessary at an emotional time. That is country life and I was broken biscuits. The wind has been taken out of my sails for now, but our first loss here on the homestead will help to teach me one of many lessons about the will of nature.