I found one of the baby quails dead in the early hours of this morning, surprisingly enough it wasn’t Houdini. I set the alarm clock for 4 a.m. and got up to feed and water them, the light bulb evaporates the water so it has to be topped up approximately every 4 hours. Himself usually does the Midnight feed before he comes to bed - it’s just like having kids again. I have to go home at lunch time too.

I was chatting to John at work about it this morning; he used to be a gamekeeper in his youth. He said exactly the same as everyone else, its nature’s way - I should just expect a couple of them to live. That’s why most breeders incubate large numbers of eggs at a time.

Well, sod Mother Nature, she’s a bitch and I’m not going to just rear two of the hatchlings, I’ll give it my all to make sure that the remaining 6 survive. The hardest part is the not knowing if you’ve done anything wrong – they all look perfectly healthy, jumping around all over the place. There were no marks on it, so it hadn't been pecked or bullied, it basically just stop breathing.

Obviously John cottoned on that I needed a bit of encouragement and telling me to expect the Grim Reaper probably wasn't the brightest thing to say, because he then started on about how well I’d done so far and with each day that passed they’d get stronger. He also warned me about keeping the top on the box. Adult quails don’t fly very well, but baby quails are like Jack in the boxes, they can jump a good foot in the air.

The last thing I need is one of them jumping out and the cat finding it. The door to the room is kept closed at all times, but I don’t trust Lucy. The peeping sounds that they make have already got her attention. I shall be glad when Friday comes and they aren’t my responsibility any longer, it's one of those times when part of you wishes you didn't care so much.

There was a point with the depression that I stopped bothering about things, I didn't care for myself - let alone some animal or somebody on telly. I wasn't shocked by what I saw or heard on the news. Those days are long gone, the wall that I built around myself has crumbled with my return to health - and I accept that I can't change my basic personality, for good or bad, I do get upset over what a lot of people class as silly things. But as the saying goes; Unto thy own self be true, the problems start when you try to be someone you aren't. Those around you that really care accept you for yourself, and those that don't aren't worth bothering about.

++++

I’ve heard nothing from Youngest since his two second mobile phone call to say they’d arrived safely at the villa on Friday. In fairness to him he’s beaten Eldest's record – when he went to Disneyland Paris with the school, I heard nothing all week until I received a message from a friend asking that I take some money with me when I went to pick him up.

Oh well, I’m sure he’s having a good time.