The Chicken House Blog

Gert the goats first morning at Forsham found our new girl a bit ‘stressy’ her unrelenting bleating bellowing visibly into the damp morning air, an indication she needed attention in the udder region.

As kids, the fields around us were ‘polka doted’ with cows, they were everywhere. Whenever you crossed a pasture a quick scan to see if the bull was about became standard ‘survival’ practise. As a dare we would grap hold of the electric fencing up set up to stop the cows bracking […]

Having finished building my chicken run, I could now stand at the kitchen sink and survey my stockade. I am not admitting to it being ugly or an eyesore as was some peoples unsolicited opinions.

I have a theory based on no sociological theory whatsoever, other than my slightly distorted perspective on the world, and just about everything.

Thanks to the spell casting prowess of Cindy ( see, I married a witch). The field that was adjacent to our garden was now part of the garden of No3 Forsham Cottages. We paid way over the odds for what on paper was agricultural land. But we were not […]

Cindy & I are born and bred Kentish, she from High Halden and me from Woodchurch (four miles apart). I am not sure if we are “Men of Kent” or “Kentish Men”, which has something to do with being born one side or other of the river Medway, apparently to some folk’s that […]

Way back when King Arthur held court, I’m talking Scargill here, not him with the round table. I had an affair … with Felicity Kendle. To be fair she didn’t know about the affair, but my wife did.