jmgoyder

wings and things

Ming’s Christmas presents

I am beside myself with excitement about Ming’s main Christmas present. It is being delivered today at 3pm while he is milking the cows. He has no idea and yesterday afternoon we sat outside and played a guessing game and he didn’t even come close – yay!

This is the first Christmas where we haven’t done the pillow case thing. Every year since he was born, we have put a big pillowcase at the end of his bed on Christmas Eve and I’ve secretly filled a matching pillowcase with presents. Then, in the very early hours of Christmas morning, I secretly swap the empty pillowcase for the full one and try (unsuccessfully) to go back to sleep. The Santa magicalness of this faded somewhat last year, not only because Ming was 17 and a little old for this but also because Anthony was so ill and, no matter how hard I tried, those gifts were bought in a state of stress rather than my usual euphoria.The brat was disappointed, I was despondent and Ants wasn’t even well enough to eat the huge meal of turkey, ham and all the trimmings. It was a complete fizzog.

So Ming decided that this Christmas there would be no pillowcase and that, instead, we would all get three presents each. So present 1 for Ming is a book about how to play the harp; and present 2 is a voucher for five harp lessons. Can you guess what present 3 is?

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One of our turkeys got mauled

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Bubble (on the left) and Baby Turkey (on the right) are our two turkeys. They are our pets, not our Christmas dinner. Anyway, I got home the other day to find Ming had left me a note to say BT was in trouble so I went out and found BT’s feather’s everywhere so I assumed he’d been killed. Bubble and I looked everywhere and (just in case you don’t think birds grieve) I have never seen Bubble so distraught. He kept twitching and looking to the left and right constantly. He couldn’t fluff himself up into his usual showoffy pose and he was frantic but in the end I couldn’t find BT and was about to give up until I saw him. He was staggering around in the adjacent paddock, his back raw with wounds so, as soon as Ming got home from milking, I told him BT needed to be put down because I couldn’t stand to see him suffering. But Ming rallied him and put him into the pen with water and grain where BT ate, drank and walked around. I had a closer look at his wounds and realized that, apart from all of his back feathers being torn out, his wounds were fairly superficial.

Not sure if a fox did this or one of our dogs (who usually leave the turkeys alone).

Long story short, BT is now at the local vet’s and on antibiotics and is recovering well.

And the irony? I will be buying a frozen turkey for Christmas lunch that will cost a hell of a lot less than keeping Baby Turkey alive at the vet’s.

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