As with most tests of hardship, endurance is the key to survival. People tend to reach for their faith or resort to stoicism. Ducks and chickens just get on with it, in a hunched up sort of way.
Except for the silkies. Having five toes, and feathered ones at that, causes a few problems, as far as mud is concerned. Seeing them trudge round, 'claggy' and forlorn, about six inches taller than nature intended, due to swamp conditions, Celine (eldest daughter) and I, decide to give the silkies a bath.
They are surprisingly co-operative, dare I say, appreciative, and are then put straight to bed, to dry off, on clean straw.
Only a couple more days to go, before 'freedom' day (freedom to range all round the farm day) - but will the plan work and will they come back?
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