A couple of days after I decided this would be the last season for the yurt camp, I went down to feed the chickens. (Philippe’s been sharing this very easy job with me this year, as he’s experimenting with growing veggies in the nearby poly tunnel. I haven’t been starving them.)

Lost in thought, I didn’t notice the lack of sound or movement in the orchard until I was at the gate and saw the first body. There’s been an attack in there before, when we lost three chickens to a pine marten. This time, every chicken had been killed. I found the hole over by the old rabbit hutch, where a very determined fox or dog had made its way through two layers of chicken wire (one layer of which may have been damaged by a strimmer a while ago) and run riot.

The goose was fine, though a bit shaken by being in there on her own – and having survived the attack.

This kind of thing does happen in smallholding – despite fencing that cost over €400 and that took weeks or more to complete (it was 2 metres high, dug into the ground 12 inches and at a right angle outwards for another 12 inches, in a trench back-filled with clay-heavy mud). That’s a lot of investment that needs paying back in eggs. Add the feed (at about €10) a week, for far too many eggs (I eat about six a week and they were producing up to eight a day), and the cost of the hens (although a few were given to us and others were born here), the accommodation and whatever, and you will see that buying organic, free-range eggs from your farmer’s market is not such a big deal.

What this means for guests is that écovallée eggs are off the menu in 2016. The goose has now gone to another home, where she will be in the company of other geese, and écovallée is (non wild) animal free for the first time since 2007. What this will also mean for guests is no more 5.00 am wake-up call from the cockerels. I was a bit worried that two of them would be a bit much for some people.

We moved the geese just now and I shot the whole thing on my phone. The video quality is very poor. (It’s a phone, remember? Not long ago, all you could do with a phone was speak to someone – and only if they were there to pick it up.) So I added an appropriate tune so it won’t be a complete waste of your time.

 

I finally finished the door for the geese house. There’s just that gap above the door to fill and the geese can move in – they’re currently all the way down the end there by that small white blob in the bad photo.

goose house door

But the bad weather hasn’t stopped work on the hugelbed, which looked like this a few minutes ago:

krugelbed

The turf on top of the rotting wood was taken from near the geese house, where we’re installing a small pond (ie, digging a hole). On the hillside above the main field, Her Outdoors has been finishing a swale started by pigs a few years ago, adding some well-rotted manure from nearby, and intends to plant some volunteer seedlings from the orchard.

Further outbreaks of hugelkultur can be expected.

The pallet pig ark has long been one of the most-read posts on this blog. It’s the first animal structure I ever made and will always be my favourite. But although I’ve shown it in place a few times, I’ve never actually demonstrated how it’s put together.

(Apologies in advance for the new, low-quality photography that will sometimes be featured in this blog – I’m now carrying an inexpensive smartphone. In the near future, you can also expect low-quality videos, but they should be worth watching if the microphone is any good. I can’t wait to record the birdsong in spring and early summer.)

Back to yesterday – as part of preparations for the 2014 glamping season, we moved the now-called pallet goose house from the orchard to its new location at the bottom of the guest field. Here it is ready to go up:

pallet house parts

I’ll walk you through the assembly and point out adjustments made since January 2008. Bearing in mind this is at least the ninth time it has been assembled, you’ll see why I’m deliriously happy with the structure. All the pieces can be moved by one person except the base and back wall. This wall is attached using two L-shaped brackets (added because the pigs kept pushing it off the base):

pallet house back

Next, a nice, light side is attached with an L-shaped bracket. You’ll notice the chicken wire holding in the straw insulation has gone. This was a terrible idea, as it broke so easily. Fortunately, I had some ply lying around and bodged these onto the uprights to make a more airtight inner layer. I didn’t bother with treating it and it seems to be fine:

pallet house side 2

Before screwing the L-shaped bracket down, the wall is fixed with long bolts through the top (we’ll come back to that piece of leaning wood in a few seconds):

pallet house top fixing

And bottom (this shot is of the second wall, to add confusion):

pallet house fixing

The front wall is then added and the leaning piece of wood at the back becomes a lintel:

pallet house lintel

Finally, the roof is lifted on from behind and screwed directly into the top of the uprights:

pallet house finished

I originally put the roof on a light wooden frame but it broke the first time it was moved. On the ground at the back of the house will be a container for catching rainwater.

All that remains now is to make a door from another pallet and we can herd the geese down the field to their new enclosure. (Could be a low-quality video opportunity there.) We haven’t kept geese behind an electric fence before, so there’s room for a bit of chaos in the days ahead. It’s basically there to keep our dogs away during the day and foxes out at night.