Margaret Shanks
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Categories
Category Archives: Hens
Under the Moon – January 1910
It was Christmas night, and a party of us went out to shut up the hens. There had been a slight thaw, which melted the surface snow and spread a sheet of ice over the roads and the hollows in … Continue reading
Last Day of a Feathered Ruler – January1906
This is the brief chronicle of the last day of the chief ruler of the feathered harem. He had become too cocky and we decided to give him a taste of the oven. The mistress and one of the girls … Continue reading
Invisible Thistles – Friday January 1902
These days I must go about with a needle in my blouse front with which to extract tiny invisible thistles from fingers which have been carrying hay and straw half the morning. They are so light covered as to be … Continue reading
Cock-Chickens to London – Friday 1902
A few days ago, we sent the last of our cock-chickens to London. The hen chickens of that brood — six of them — are all laying fine brown eggs —- one of them lays a double-yoked egg — and … Continue reading
Keenly Alive Fox – Wednesday November 1900
This might have been an easy day but for some sickness among the stock. There is gruel to make and much walking to and fro, out and in. Two feminine heads are not equal to one male but they are … Continue reading
Posted in Diary, Ducks, Farming, Fashion, Hens
Tagged black velvet, blouse, chickens, focxes, hounds, Peter Robinson
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Asked Out – Friday September 1902
This is the weather and the season when, if one is asked out to tea or any other function, the reply has to be that we will go if it is wet but, if it is dry, we must stay … Continue reading
Chickens on the Dungstead – Saturday September 1902
A fine half-grown chicken is seen running round and round in a circle and refusing to eat. It is haphazard work diagnosing the complaints of fowls and dosing them but we ventured on a pellet of sulphur, lard and pepper. … Continue reading
Posted in Diary, Farming, Hens, Uncategorized
Tagged chicken farming, dung, dung pile, fowl, shit
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Mr Fox “A Woeful Sight” – Wednesday September 1900
Last night, my window being wide open and some hen houses within a child’s stone throw, I heard a determined scratching on the wooden doors. “Aha! Mr Fox,” thought I. “ You may scratch but you’ll not get in.” I … Continue reading
Marauding Hen and Fox – Monday September 1900
The day is threatening for our “wash.” This is not so serious for us as for some, as we wash every week, and the number of articles is not alarming. There are differences of opinion as to the expediency of … Continue reading