So, emotionally prepared, I made plans for our upcoming sale. I decided that another recent hatchling would be sold too; a bantam cock, and that we would make a trio of birds by selling two of our bantam girls with him (these girls from the original bantam family I bought in 2011.)
The children were thrilled when I woke them at 5.45am on the morning of the sale...Not! We live an hour from the auction and really needed to be there and commandeer a cage by 6.30am. We were so early that the Hubby wasn't even awake and so I crept about the bedroom, putting a pant in a leg, a boob in a bra, a toe in a sock as quietly as I could, gathering up bits I needed from the nightstand. All was going well until I fumbled for one item too many and managed to drop everything in my arms onto my full coffee cup which exploded an earthy colour over Kindles, notebooks and carpet! I swore, Hubby sat up, confused. #Disaster1.
Promising to clean up later, I escaped to Task 2: ushering sproglets downstairs. This was fairly easy and so I was lulled into a false security for Task 3: Loading the birds.
The previous night I had segregated the birds we were taking to the auction so that it would be easy to box them and go. Ha! Within the first 5 minutes I had lost a hold on the young Bantam cock... (steady!) and he was free. The 10yo and I briefly tried to catch him but he was wise to us and we were forced to give up. #Disaster2. By now we were running late.
With Salmon Faverolles safely in a box, we arrived at the auction at 7am, just 30 minutes late. Bearing in mind that the sale didn't start till 10am I was sure we would be in good time to cage up. I was almost wrong. There was just one cage available in our section of birds. We quickly disgorged our cardboard box, settling our girls and boy with water and corn housed in makeshift feeders made from plastic 1 pint milk containers, (v. Blue Peter) their handles cut to make them easier to hang on the bars of the cage. Finally I could breathe.
Between 7am and 10am we fed ourselves on meat market bacon butties and tea and even had time to dash the couple of miles into the centre of the city for home supplies.
I'm pleased to say our birds sold well (though Rockefellers we are not) and it was gratifying to note that #Disaster3 never really occurred, unless you count the monsoon-like weather that ensued for the rest of the day and I don't.
The 10yo is considering investing her 'millions' in an egg incubator so that she can turn out chicks to order, now that she's had a taste of earning.... Lordy help us!