TURKEY REPRIEVE

 .. But here comes the axeman to chop off your head!

  WHILE pondering new stock for my small holding I got to thinking it would be nice if I reared some turkeys - being more or less the same shape as hens I thought they couldn't be too much bother but they'd also provide a lot more meat and would make a nice gift for my family over Christmas as table birds. The hens were proving to be easy-peasy, so why would turkeys be any different?

FESTIVE: Traditional Xmas roast

 Like all the best laid plans this one began to fall apart almost as soon as I'd picked up my Bourbon Reds. Turkeys are, apparently, very sensitive creatures and the slightest upheaval in their lives can induce suicidal tendencies or severe depression followed by death. Well no one told me!
 The journey to the Scottish Borders from Whitby proved too traumatic for a couple of the females and within days both died, not quite from shock but the journey triggered an underlying disease according to the post mortem examination results at the nearby animal laboratories.
 The remaining three - two stags and a hen - looked quite forlorn and so after being given a course of anti-biotics I tried to give them as much TLC as a turkey can take. Mercifully all this care and attention began to pay dividends and so after they rallied around I let the three out to wander freely a few hours each day. I then made the mistake of giving them names: Ant, Dec and Little Boots.

CHRISTMAS CRACKERS: The two 

stags roaming on the range

By December I had become quite attached to the trio and so decided that after their emotional upheaval they should be left well alone. This rather irritated hubby who had been looking forward to carving a halal turkey at the annual festive Ridley gathering.
 However as January arrived problems began to emerge when it became obvious a more mature Ant and Dec both had designs on Little Boots. The two stags were constantly fighting and the hen had a permanently worried look and so I discussed the issue with my better half. His solution was predictable and final and involved an axe whereas my response was to add to the gaggle of turkeys and therefore increase our chances of breeding decent table birds for Christmas 2013. I reasoned that because there is a growing number of converts to Islam in the UK and many of them still go and see their families around the Christmas season; offering halal turkeys would, I thought, be a best seller and I still think it could be. Food is always a great unifier but, speaking from experience, it's always daunting spending Christmas Day with your non-Muslim loved ones when you can't share the turkey roast because it's not halal.

ANT & DEC & LITTLE BOOTS : For the chop?

 However hubby was having none of it and put his foot down. No more turkeys. He was adamant, even raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips. It was an open and shut case. "No" meant "no" and there was clearly no wiggle room. So I did what I always do when faced with such adamance - I sought a second opinion. I went through the Google search engine and found a turkey farmer in the south and asked him; the wonderful thing about countryside folk is that they're very happy to share their knowledge, their years of wisdom, inside tricks and know how. Coming from the backstabbers' paradise of Fleet Street where you share absolutely nothing but misinformation and watch your back 100pc of the time, even with your closest work colleagues, this caring sharing culture among countryfolk was completely alien to me at first. But people in the boondocks genuinely want to help their fellow man or woman.
 Anyway my new best friend, the turkey farmer, offered a less drastic solution than hubby - either slaughter the hen or one of the stags but change the ratio otherwise the stags could kill each other, and so I went to hubby and gave him the option. Well it turns out he was just as attached to the birds as I was and so not only were all three given a reprieve, I was told to go and buy three more hens. Result!
 Being a good and obedient wife I was straight on to it and by the next day I'd located a trio of Bourbon Reds off the A1 in Yorkshire and went off to collect them. They turned out to be the Christmas leftovers from a turkey farm and so had also been given a second lifeline. They are collectively known as the Three Degrees.
 So then there were six and like all good stories there should be a happy ending ... but this is the countryside and I am a greenhorn homesteader and there's another installment but you will have to wait for a few more days. Brace yourself for the unexpected.