Stalag-tight security for T&Q

THERE seems to be growing concern about the safety of our ducklings, Tich and Quackers (aka T&Q).

A good friend wrote: "My mother wants to know what happens to Tich and Quackers at night and where does mother sleep? Will a fox eat their mother, turning T&Q into orphans?"

EAT UP: My wife tries to coax Rosemary to eat; one duckling is under her body, the other is not so camera-shy

STALAG TIGHT: High security keeps the foxes out

VE 'av vays, so rest assured, Mrs S. The ducklings are being well cared for by Rosemary, their surrogate mother. They all sleep together in a small enclosure, within another larger secure compound. There are three layers of wire netting on each side and a layer of strong netting over the top to prevent agile predators getting in (we hope).
At night we put them in a straw-laden wooden box with a removable lid, and the ducklings tend to tuck themselves under Rosemary's wings or under her body when they sleep. In fact, their mum could be described as a cosy 25-tog duvet (no duck down, of course).
I would think it is almost as secure as a Stalag, although there are no guards, with heavy German accents, on the perimeters. We do have powerful security lights and my wife and I are frequent visitors, so I suppose we could be classed as the security even though our German is not too good.
According to the Third Geneva Convention (1929), such camps were only for prisoners of war, not bantams and ducklings, but you get ze picture, ja?

Sir Francis Drake and the girls make their entrance

What are you staring at? Sir Francis [left] and his girls settle in,
unaware of the sheep behind them

The dashing Sir Francis Drake has finally joined us. He arrived in a humble family Ford rather than the Golden Hind, but he did so with three very attractive ladies in tow.
Yes, we finally made it to nearby Norfolk to collect our Trout Indian Runner ducks from Karen and Richard, the lovely couple who run, among other things, Power Poultry [http://www.powerpoultry.co.uk - see also Karen's blog].
We ordered the ducks a couple of months ago when we picked up Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and ... Mabel, Pekin batams complete with feathered trousers and plenty of attitude [see Crispy Ducks post, July 1]. Sadly, my wife's accident [see Friday 13th post, July 14] and subsequent recuperation meant we had to put Operation Duck on hold. But it has been well worth the wait. This week I finally completed their enclosure and, having taken delivery of our custom-made duck house - unlike former MP Sir Peter Viggers, we are unable to make any claim for Sir Francis's new abode - we brought the flock home.

Relocation, relocation: Kirsty and Phil eat your heart out

They seem great characters and really do fit the bill! They are already settling in, despite some curious onlookers, notably our pygmy goats, and my wife is in the process of giving the ladies names so an update will follow in a couple of days. Must go, it will be dark soon.
Footnote: First night nerves for the gang, I'm afraid. They were extremely noisy when I went down to put the animals away for the night and simply dashed from corner to corner as I tried to herd them into their new quarters. I had to call on the assistance of my wife who hobbled to the rescue and used her crutches to great effect as we eventually directed them up the ramp and to bed for the night. All now quiet. Bliss.
And the girls' have finally been named. No, not noisy little buggers, as I suggested after that episode an hour or so ago. Drake's companions are henceforth known as Demelza, Dafne[y] and Daisy. D'oh!

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Peeking Pekins: Martha (front) and the girls look on

Noisy neighbours: Molly and Reg [right] stare at the newcomers

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Excited expectant mother gets in a right flap

Best seat: one-horned Lily in front of the chicken enclosures

My wife is getting more than a little excited about the prospect of the arrival of her "babies" in the next day or so. The patter of tiny feet? Well, bantams' feet, to be precise.
And it doesn't end there. They will be followed by several Indian Runner ducks. We must be quackers.
The decision to increase the size of Family Fenman meant that accommodation had to be sorted out, too. So the last few days have been hectic sorting out chicken coops, making fox-proof enclosures and even fencing in new trees to stop the neighbour's sheep tearing them apart. All this between extreme heat and then heavy showers.

Fortunately, I was able to complete most of the work - with some invaluable hired help - before the really bad weather kicked in this weekend. Many areas of the UK, particularly the north of England - Hebden Bridge was badly affected - suffered floods as a month's worth of rain fell in less than 24 hours. Despite the weather, I didn't feel the need to build a chicken ark. If I did, I suppose I would have needed some two by two. Oh Noah! [I've used that before, but who cares?]
The goats were very curious as the new enclosure was going up, with pygmy goats Ralph and Lily particularly interested. The chickens, too, seemed unruffled by events and did a tour when the fencing was completed, before settling down to making dust bowls by one of the fences.
But this rain, along with sunny spells, is doing wonders for our garden. As previously mentioned, the vegetables are coming along a treat, and so are the flowers.

Feathered friends: up to mischief

Blooming lovely: our various roses

The roses are looking - and smelling - particularly good, although a couple of specimens are still suffering from a touch of blackspot despite our efforts to get rid of the disease last year.
We've tried cutting out the affected stems and leaves, and have disposed of them, but I think we might have to use to fungicide ... our last resort.
The new roses that we've planted, however, seem to be resistant to the disease so we're keeping our fingers crossed that we don't have problems with them. I'll keep you posted on this thorny issue.

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