This means war

The bloody chickens escaped again yesterday. We all came home from the library to find 3 neighbours rounding them up from various gardens in the street. We can't figure out where they're getting out. Everything from ground level up to 3 feet is surrounded with chicken wire, and I've never seen either of them fly unless they're being chased.

Ed has a theory that cats are getting in and spooking them, causing them to fly over the fence. We don't want to clip their wings because then they wouldn't be able to get away from the cats, so the only solution is to keep the cats away from the chickens. That means building a pen.

So today we've been making a cat-proof chicken run using the timber we saved when we took out a stud wall in the kitchen, and the chicken wire that we found in the garage when we moved here. I always like making something for nothing. Especially when the resource we are penning in is only providing 50pence worth of eggs per day, I don't want to spend £200 on timber to protect it.

The chickens haven't laid today. Maybe it's all the people in the garden all day long hammering and sawing which has upset them. Or maybe it's because they know their days of complete freedom are numbered.

Oh, and Pippa (the scarecrow http://bean-sprouts.blogspot.com/2006/06/meet-pippa.html) is dead. She was there last night at about half past eight but this morning she was thoroughly dismembered and most of her is missing. So near to the fence I suppose she was always going to be a vandal magnet, so I don't think we'll replace her. Rest In Pieces, Pippa. You may rise again on the smallholding, but you never stood a chance on the allotment.