Bronwyn's parents have been off on holiday for the week, so Bronwyn has been feeding out to the cows each day. Some days, she's been working as well. The tractor is ancient, and the handbrake is useless, so to stop it you have to face it uphill and lower the tray at the back onto the ground. It also has two foot brakes, one for each wheel, and a foot clutch. It makes gear changing interesting. So Bronwyn was the only one who knew how to handle it properly, and was feeding out after work. The sun had already set, and time was ticking. Of course, the headlights are useless. So I had to open the gate and then chase away the calves in order to let the tractor through. It feels good, watching a herd of large animals run off round the corner after letting off a blood curdling yell. But my throat hurt for a bit.

Chickaboo hasn't fared well since the demise of Goldie. The younger two have pecked off most of her feathers. We've had to separate her, with her out in the morning and the others in the afternoon. Trouble is, she wants to stay with the others, despite the way they treat her, and hangs around the outside of the coop all morning. She's also been staggering around somewhat, so she might have got injured in the leg as well. Bronwyn tried to make a little coat for her, but she really didn't want to wear it. I'm not sure if there's much else we can do.

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