Killing the neighbours hens – a right to feel guilt

This week has been VERY eventful, which considering it is Wednesday lunchtime is quite something. If they say life begins at 40, it unfortunately also ends…

Chickens eating in the garden

Sunday evening Mr M and I watch About a Boy – it is pouring with rain and it is a pretty uneventful evening to be honest. We hop to bed without a care in the world.  At three I wake up… I am feeling like I have forgotten something.  At 3.05 I realise what…. the neighbours hens that we are looking after have not been penned in for the night.  Mr M runs across in his PJ’s and wellies…. comes back after about 5 min, but why oh why I am lying in bed missing that very soothing click of the door locking. Unfortunately a very good reason no hens!  Ho goes back out and comes back sometime after 4 in the morning. No hens, but a lot of feathers.

Monday morning I get up early to look for hens, there is one in the hen house sitting on her egg (there were 5)… she looks worse for wear and is not the happy chicken she was running around at my birthday part last week.  She has very few (read none) feathers on her bottom, but except for that and a look of fear she seems ok.

Now proceeds, looking for the other 4, but we realise pretty quickly they have gone to hen heaven, or rather into a fox… Then it is feather clean up time. Speak to the neighbours who are very understanding and off to get 4 more hens, as they are pack animals.  The farmer says they should all play nicely so another 4 hens get picked up and placed in the hen house.

A few hours later we also get the ‘old’ hen into the hen house for the night and they all look like they are sitting pretty on nice straw and saw dust well fed and watered.

Tuesday morning – plenty of eggs and 4 bullies.  Overnight they have picked on their new friends bottom so much it is in a terrible state. Mr M and I realise we have to do the dirty deed and send her to hen heaven too.  This is not a job I EVER want to do again, albeit I can very much understand the statement ‘it is kinder to the animal’ now.  Now there are 4 hens – they seem happy and I will NEVER forget to close the hen house door at night again.

Just to ensure that Karma is in full working order on Tuesday night the cellar filled with poo water… Luckily our insurance company was very efficient.

I realise the little I have spoken about me highlights a lot the guilt I feel – this was justified guilt.  How awful can I be – one thing I forgot with some serious consequences for the poor chickens.

To make my self feel better I had the leftover raspberry crumble on greek yougurt and cherries for breakfast. Oh so delicous!

leftovercrumble

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Taco Seasoning – Saturday morning… The day after

Right – Friday cosy time was a success and our new guests were VERY nice!  The only thing after a glass of wine my photo skills are not so hot… But the first part of making the slow cooked beef is to use Taco spice.  For this I have my own mix which I usually do with mince.  I spend most of my time at home in my pyjamas, usually with my hair tied up on top of my head… I took the colour out of the picture to tread carefully with social media and everyone looking so darn good it can be scary!

Taco Spice MixJMDayAfter

Dry fry:

2 tsp chilli powder

1 tsp cumin (spiskummin)

1/2 tsp cayenne (for kids version otherwise I would go for at least 1)

2 tsp paprika

After a few min add 2 tbs flavourless oil

1 crushed garlic clove

2tbs tomato puree

Then add mince – or piece of meat. Details to follow.

Fredags Mys – ‘Friday Cosy time’

In Sweden one highlights of the week for many (and I am sure in other countries) is Friday evening. The weekend is ahead and you have worked or been at school all week.  Here in Sweden dinner on a Friday in a vast amount of households is Taco’s.  I thought as we are having guests this evening I would make Taco deluxe.  This is actually still incredibly simple the only thing it is best cooked for 6 hours plus hence pop it into the oven before you go to bed an it will be ready the next morning and can just be reheated for dinner.

In our household the kids then eat popcorn whilst Mr. M and I have a glass of wine… or three sometimes!  Popcorn to me is food nostalgia at its best. We used to get them as kids. My mum swearing like crazy and having thrown out lots of badly burned pans, then of course came revolution and microwave popcorn.  I could pretend that I shunned these and never used them and moved to popping my own popcorn because I am so super duper good in every way…. The real reason is that the microwave caught fire one day and we haven’t replaced it and actually I don’t miss it except for Breakfast in a Cup, but then I trot over to a neighbour and then get some social fun and a cup of coffee so all in all pretty good!

Popping my own popcorn now does not burn, I use coconut oil which I believe can handle higher temperatures which may be the key to my success.

Receipe to follow!

Grumpy or not Grumpy?

I was told that the comment “At home in the privacy of my own home it feels like it is easy to get away with behaving like a big shit. ” resonated with people. I think as a woman I feel like I behave much worse at home, I can be grumpy, condescending and in general now very nice. If someone turns up in the middle of this… I am like sunshine. I am warm, glowing, witty and in great form.  I do think that is a little unfair on my poor husband whom I believe to be much much more consistent in his feelings and moods.  I don’t dare say it is a woman thing almost, albeit I think it may be.  Do blokes actually not have the need to talk about things in the same way most women do?  Or is their canary yellow Porsche the equivalent of some women ongoing emotional ups and downs?

Hm…

P.S. The Mr in my life does not have a Canary Yellow Porsche!