A headless chicken...

Last years tulips were amazing.  

The first tulip is out in the garden.  I was almost too busy to notice it. I've been writing up recipes, teaching courses, keeping the children entertained whilst they have been on holiday, rearranging the laundry, walking the dogs, swimming, cleaning, washing, tidying, school run, gardening, cleaning the chickens out, talking to builders and occasionally sleeping.

The truth is that I've been running about like a headless chicken for what seems like weeks. Trust me, I know what a headless chicken looks like because I once blew the head off a chicken and it carried on running.   Now before you judge me, let me explain. I was 10 years old, and my mother gave me such a hiding when she was told of what I had done that I didn't sit comfortably for some time afterwards. IN my defence it was a greedy French chicken and I really honestly didn't think that the chicken was going to run and grab the lit petard ( french bangers,) and run like hell  I had simply thought that I would give the hens a fright, but that beady eyed chicken ran fixed on the banger, head forward, leaping through the air, and made a Tom Cruise like stunt grab for the mini dynamite stick. It was a triumphant last few seconds as it had out witted all the other hens who followed in hot pursuit. They clearly thought they'd missed a tasty morsel. It was victoriously halfway across the pen when the explosion happened.  All the other hens stopped dead in their tracks wide eyed and petrified, but not the one with the banger.  No that one kept on running not even missing it;s stride, despite having no head left whatsoever, it ran around the pen bumping into the fence and the walls for what seemed like an eternity.  It was probably two minutes as my brother and I watched wide eyed at a scene. It was however time enough for the never pausing for breath Madame Befera and the owner of the chickens Daniel's mother to catch us redhanded. Oh I remember well that feeling when you are in so much trouble.

Apparently it took over a week before any of the hens laid an egg, which was about how long it took me to sit comfortably again. 

So here I am sitting at my desk feeling cross that I haven't written my blog up for days but I do promise that next week I will write up all about a new vegetarian recipe book that I have found called The Green Kitchen, and about the trip to Claybrooke Mill and the trip to Bath as well as the tour of Bugbrooke Mill in Northampton. so you see I have just been so busy, too busy to write. 

In the meantime bear with me because teaching twice a week is taking a day to prepare for each class and a day of admin.  It't not leaving me much time for anything else.  But it is fun and I love it.