We didn’t expect it, but the responsibility of owning 5 chickens hit hard this week. We got back from Austin to find Twizzle - our beautiful “most ugly” hen with the twisted beak - was under the weather and had a lump on her tummy. She didn’t seem to be in pain, and they sometimes go like that if they’ve got an “egg stuck” so we left her under observation for a few days. When it wasn’t better by Wednesday, S took Twizzle to the vet (what’s the chances of this: the only Avian-specialist vet in the whole of London is 5 minutes away near our house?!). He thought it was likely a “feather cyst” which are quite common but when he took an x-ray he found something different… Twizzle had somehow managed to swallow a nail. Maybe it was buried in the garden or maybe it came from our fencing - whatever, she ate the nail and over the course of a week it slowly moved destructively through her insides, finally reaching her bowels and causing peritonitis as it tried to escape through her body cavity. Twizzle was sadly unrescuable and so reluctantly we had to have the vet put her down. She was the most curious, inquisitive, cheeky, ugly-but-beautiful, clever, character-ful little girl we’ve ever had and laid beautiful big eggs. She will not be forgotten.

And if that wasn’t enough, on Wednesday evening putting the chooks to bed we found their house was crawling with “red mite”. It’s a common pest of wild birds - 1mm long red bugs that feed on the chickens’ blood. We’d checked the cube at the weekend and there was nothing wrong at all - so the infestion had come from nothing to “intense” within a few short days. There must have been tens of thousands of the bugs all over the chickens and their house. Cue a full 24 hour project to powder the chickens, persuade them to sleep outside away from the “biters”, a full strip down clean of the cage and disinfect with Jayes fluid and Ant powder and the purchase of a number of remedy and barrier products to ensure they can’t get reinfected in the future. We need you to appreciate those eggs - a lot of love it takes.

Fun was had at Zilker Park (spring fed municipal pool), a Tori Amos concert at the Long Center during sunset over Austin and kayaking on town lake.

Came home to find a couple of monsters in the garden - courgettes that have nearly become marrows, they grew so big:

Shown with twenty pence piece for scale

Another marrow and a cucumber. The tomatoes are plentiful, but so far very green. Here’s hoping

Written by Richard Craze, Author of Out of Your Townie Mind

1. Don’t decide to go because the countryside looks lovely on an August bank holiday. Always make sure you’ve visited in the depths of winter when it’s all bleak and wet and dark - February is especially good for this.

2. Never decide to move somewhere after only one visit - go lots of times and at different time of year (see above) and at different times of day (you might be on a rat run or a school run).

3. Don’t assume that moving is going to change your basic personality. If you are fat and lazy in the city then you are going to be fat and lazy in the countryside. Moving changes nothing.

4. Don’t assume that things are done the same in the country - they’re not. Just imagine you are moving to a foreign country and plan accordingly - different language, customs, food, habits and sense of time. It will all be very different. Moving changes everything.

5. Be sure you can cope with isolation, loneliness, mud, rain (endless rain sometimes for days and days) a lack of entertainment, nosy neighbours, unpleasant smells, untimely activities - our local farmer cuts hay at midnight all summer long and another goes lamping in the early hours with a shotgun and a smoky diesel Landrover with no exhaust.

6. Make sure you know what is on offer - and what you want. Is living off the beaten track for you? Or do you need local shops and a friendly post office? Small town or up a rural mountain? Edge of a village or near the sea? They all have their draw-backs and positives - make sure you know which is which before you take the plunge.

7. Make sure you know what facilities are on offer. Broadband is a given in a city but a bonus in some villages. Taxis are an unheard of luxury in some regions and a delivered pizza an impossible dream.

8. Question carefully what it is you are looking for by moving to the countryside - downsizing? A change of pace? Retirement? Following a dream? (Who’s dream?) Inability to make it in the city?

9. Once you have moved keep quiet for at least five years. Don’t go poking your nose in, organising, offering advice, changing things, making suggestions, interfering. Don’t join any committees, organisations, clubs, councils (local or parish) at least for the said five years - unless it is of course in a very junior role doing menial tasks that the locals wouldn’t be seen dead doing. You are an outsider and must bide your time, serve your apprenticeship and hold your tongue until accepted - a minimum of five years, probably longer, probably until someone can remember going to school with you.

10. And lastly do be prepared to have your breath taken away by a sunset, bird song, a view, horizontal rain when you’re curled up in front of a log fire on the wettest coldest day in winter, the taste of drop-scones cooked on a range and served with your own home-made jam, eggs from your own chickens, no street lights at night and the sight of the milky way, glow-worms, bats, badgers, a fox calling on an eerie frosty night with a full moon.

Have a go on the chicken cam (better during day unless you want to see chicken bottom)