Pump inaction

It’s already sunny when I get up. Megan rings to say that the professor that she is dog sitting for has been arrested in London on the XR demo and has missed her bus home.

I collect refugee hens from Bonnington and deliver a couple to Bill. The barn get three, I get three. We catch two of my cockerels, setting the outdoor population to 1 cockerel and 4 hens.

I continue checking the pump. It’s tripping the RCD, so I change the plug and try it on a different supply. No improvement. It looks like 10 years of hard service is all I can expect.

The tractor, on the other hand, starts first time. It needs some oil on a few linkages and a lot of air in one of the rear tyres, but otherwise it seems in fine fettle considering it has been parked outside for a couple of years. I leave it in the polytunnel.

Mike decrees that it is too hot to move sheep. He’s sitting in the garden at Banalaw, with Craig, drinking cider. I bring a bottle of Ricard and a bag of ice. There’s nothing like an cold glass of anise, sitting in the sun after a long day of chores.

I cycle back over the hill, eat my tea and pluck one of the cockerels. The other will have to wait for tomorrow night.