Flippin' chicken

And now Mrs Miggins has a scraped bottom. Don't know the whys, hows or wherefores but I do know that Mrs Poo finds it fascinating in a let's keep pecking it kind of way. So this morning, at 6.30, it was into the gardens of Cluckinghen Palace, grab Miggo, upend Miggo, bathe Miggo, anto-biotic Miggo, spray Miggo with gentian violet and anti-peck spray and then rig up a temporary fence to separate her from Poo whilst scraped bottom calms down and no longer looks like a tempting hors d'oevres.

Two purple panted chickens and one stubbly mad chicken. I am beginning to feel like a bad chicken owner.

Anyway, with Mrs Miggins segregated and sunflower seeds and greenery scattered generously on both sides of the partition, Andy went to work and I went swimming. On my return, I find three chickens on one side of the partition and no chickens on the other. Mrs Poo has a purple beak. I have no idea how Miggo got in with the others. There is no sign of fence wreakage or holes dug under fences or suspicious looking ladders.
'You've been pecking Mrs Miggins, haven't you?' I say, crossly.
'How can you tell?' says Poo

So I sit in the garden and observe to see if it is safe to allow them to stay altogether. I start doing chicken algebra.
Take a = Miggo, b=Pumphrey c=Poo and d= Slocombe. Pecking order factor 1=top, 2=bottom 3=minds their own business. Risk mix factor is x= good, y=tolerable z= disaster on a stick. Thus a3+b3= x. c1+d2= y and b3+ d2= z. a3+b3 divided by c1 minus d2 seemed to be working okay until incident bs (bottom scrape) but now carries risk factor y/z potential.

P=partition. So, if p is entered into the equation, potentially d2 could be re-integrated and z adverted if my theory that a3+b3 balances out c1+d2 is correct. 3+3=6. 1+2=3. So z=x divided by 2 (or half or 50%). Or is it double, not half?

Aaaaarrgghhhh!!! These chickens are doing my head in. Mrs Miggins isn't helping matters by presenting her bottom to Mrs Poo.
'Look!' she says. 'I have purple pants, too.'

Luckily, no blood has been drawn.

And I found a dead sparrow by the front door. What's all that about?

Meanwhile, Guy has arrived to do the fence for the courtyard garden as it is now pretentiously known. There is much drilling and banging going on. I'm expecting a call for tea in a moment but am being guided by the hammering and when it starts flagging I'll put the kettle on. I'm not having tea. I've decided, after 43 years, to take up alcohol. And possible smoking, too.

I've started a list of names for our bees when we get them. I thought I'd get a head start because there will be about 50,000 of them. So far I have the following:
1) Bee One, Cos I'm One Too
2)Bee Two Bee Do Bee Do
3)Bee Three, As Three as a Bird
4)Bee Four You Say Goodbye
5) Bee F'ive Got a Crush on You

Pass the gin and in the words of Blackadder, you'll find me standing on a bucket with a frog pinned to my lapel, saying 'bibble' in the Venetian fashion.