Showing posts with label Organic Food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Organic Food. Show all posts
Friday, 27 March 2015
Tuesday, 24 March 2015
7 The Magic Seaweed
Another pigeon died overnight but four had recovered and were back on there feet. The current situation is that sixteen birds are poorly but showing signs of recovery, while another sixteen birds are still seriously ill.
Tubby, Polly and Peter continued the good work of preparing food, caring for the sick and helping Brighton keep the loft clean and tidy.
By mid afternoon Percy had spotted something through his telescope. “It’s a flock of birds on the horizon,” he said, “but too distant to identify yet.” A few minutes later he was able to confirm. “Yes they are definitely racing pigeons,” he said, “and quite a big group by the look of it."
As the flock came closer Peter was able to identify Nigel and Uncle Roy at the head of an arrow shaped formation which must have included twenty to thirty birds.
Soon they landed on the Commander’s lawn. ”Good to see you boys,” said Tubby, ”I see you brought some pals with you Nigel.” “Yes,” said Nigel, ”once word got around that the SBS were in trouble everybody wanted to get involved. There is a representative here from every pigeon racing club in Devon and Cornwall. Each flyer has magic black seaweed stuck to his legs.” “OK,” said Polly, “no time to waste, lets get the medicine to the sick as quickly as we can.”
While Peter and his parents encouraged the sick birds to eat the seaweed the racing pigeons rested from their long flight. “Loads of food here,” said Percy, “help yourself.”
Local pigeons were still delivering organic food all the time so there was plenty to share out. The West Country birds tucked in.
During the afternoon Peter and his parents were resting outside the loft when Percy turned up. "Wakame,” said Percy. “What did you say?” inquired Tubby. “Wakame, the magic black seaweed
stuff is called Wakame,” said Percy. “Ducky has just identified it. It’s a rich source of minerals and apparently it binds with heavy metals in our intestines and detoxifies the body which cures us. He says sailors from Devon and Cornwall have taken it to sea for generations. Sir Francis Drake, the first Englishmen to circumnavigate the globe took in with him in 1577." “Well,” said Polly, ”now we know! As long as it makes those boys better I don’t care a jot about its funny name or its history.”
That evening the racing pigeons prepared to return to the West Country. “Do they have to go already?” asked Peter. “Oh yes said Nigel they must be back in their lofts before the morning otherwise they will be assumed to have gone AWOL.” “What does AWOL mean?” asked Peter. “Absent Without Leave,” chipped in Percy, “a very serious military offence.”
“Thank you Uncle Roy for delivering the magic seaweed,” said Peter, ”and for bringing so many West Country racers.” “Ere it was our dooty my ansome,” said Uncle Roy, “ in times of trouble all us pigeons ave to stick together.”
Then the thirty or so birds with Roy in the front took to the air and flew towards the setting sun.
Tubby, Polly and Peter continued the good work of preparing food, caring for the sick and helping Brighton keep the loft clean and tidy.
By mid afternoon Percy had spotted something through his telescope. “It’s a flock of birds on the horizon,” he said, “but too distant to identify yet.” A few minutes later he was able to confirm. “Yes they are definitely racing pigeons,” he said, “and quite a big group by the look of it."
As the flock came closer Peter was able to identify Nigel and Uncle Roy at the head of an arrow shaped formation which must have included twenty to thirty birds.
 |
| Help arrives |
Soon they landed on the Commander’s lawn. ”Good to see you boys,” said Tubby, ”I see you brought some pals with you Nigel.” “Yes,” said Nigel, ”once word got around that the SBS were in trouble everybody wanted to get involved. There is a representative here from every pigeon racing club in Devon and Cornwall. Each flyer has magic black seaweed stuck to his legs.” “OK,” said Polly, “no time to waste, lets get the medicine to the sick as quickly as we can.”
While Peter and his parents encouraged the sick birds to eat the seaweed the racing pigeons rested from their long flight. “Loads of food here,” said Percy, “help yourself.”
Local pigeons were still delivering organic food all the time so there was plenty to share out. The West Country birds tucked in.
During the afternoon Peter and his parents were resting outside the loft when Percy turned up. "Wakame,” said Percy. “What did you say?” inquired Tubby. “Wakame, the magic black seaweed
 |
| Wakame, the magic seaweed |
stuff is called Wakame,” said Percy. “Ducky has just identified it. It’s a rich source of minerals and apparently it binds with heavy metals in our intestines and detoxifies the body which cures us. He says sailors from Devon and Cornwall have taken it to sea for generations. Sir Francis Drake, the first Englishmen to circumnavigate the globe took in with him in 1577." “Well,” said Polly, ”now we know! As long as it makes those boys better I don’t care a jot about its funny name or its history.”
That evening the racing pigeons prepared to return to the West Country. “Do they have to go already?” asked Peter. “Oh yes said Nigel they must be back in their lofts before the morning otherwise they will be assumed to have gone AWOL.” “What does AWOL mean?” asked Peter. “Absent Without Leave,” chipped in Percy, “a very serious military offence.”
“Thank you Uncle Roy for delivering the magic seaweed,” said Peter, ”and for bringing so many West Country racers.” “Ere it was our dooty my ansome,” said Uncle Roy, “ in times of trouble all us pigeons ave to stick together.”
Then the thirty or so birds with Roy in the front took to the air and flew towards the setting sun.
 |
| West Country Pigeons return home |
To be continued.....
Photographic Acknowledgements
The above images were provided, with thanks, from the following organisations:
Flock of pigeons - -all-freedownload.com
Wakame - aliexpress.com
Sunset pigeons - view.stern.de
Flock of pigeons - -all-freedownload.com
Wakame - aliexpress.com
Sunset pigeons - view.stern.de
Friday, 20 March 2015
6 Rallying the Troops
Next morning at daybreak Tubby flew off and met all the main pigeon families in Rosehill. As Chairman of the Pigeon Council he announced that there was to be an extraordinary meeting of the Council to take place at 'The Firs' at 10 o’clock that day.
Thirty pigeons attended the meeting and Tubby informed them of the plight of the SBS. He asked that everyone fly off to different towns and villages and pass on the distressing news. He also told them to encourage everyone they met to fly to more distant parts and inform other pigeon communities. He stressed that the need is for organic fruit, vegetables and herbs to be delivered to Malvern HQ as soon as possible.
Tubby, Polly and Peter then flew off to Malvern HQ to see what assistance they could provide. Surprisingly Nigel met them at the entrance to the loft. “How are you Nigel?” inquired Tubby. “A lot better Tubby,” said Nigel, “thanks to that salad stuff you provided yesterday. Got some bad news though two of the boys passed away last night; I hope your salads work for the rest of the boys.” “I’ll take over the kitchen,” said Polly. “I’ll make sure everyone gets proper food from now on; we will get the boys better.”
That day birds arrived every ten minutes or so, passed on their good wishes to the Squadron and left gifts of fresh fruit and vegetables. You could tell from the different pigeon accents that the birds were coming in from all over England and Wales. There was even two from Scotland and one from France who brought garlic.
As the evening drew in, Percy consoled the Commander, Brighton flew off to see his mates and Tubby, Polly, Peter and Nigel sat down for a rest and a meal. Barely had they started on their food when Percy entered the room. “More bad news,” he said, “another flyer has passed away. The organic food seems to be working for some of the chaps but not for others.”
“Well there is only one thing left that we can do,” said Polly. “What’s that Mum?” inquired Peter. “The boys must have the magic black seaweed,” said Polly, “it cures every ailment known to pigeons.” “That true,” said Tubby, “but it comes from Whitsand Bay in Cornwall at a secret location known only to Uncle Roy in Plymouth and a few Cornish birds; how can we contact him?”
“Your not talking about Flying Officer Roy Wotton by any chance are you?" inquired Nigel. “Yes,” said Tubby, “that’s his full name.” “We did our basic training together at RAF Chivenor, at Barnstaple, many years ago; he flies for the Plymouth Arrows,” added Nigel. “That’s him,” said Tubby. “Roy is an old pal of mine, I’ll fly down there and see him,” added Nigel. “Your too weak after your illness,” said Polly, “you will never cover that distance.” “Duty calls Polly,” said Nigel, “it has to be done.” “His loft is at Plymstock,” said Tubby, “overlooking the River Plym. You can’t miss it,” added Tubby, “for some obscure reason their human carer has painted the loft green, black and white.”
“Well no time to waste,” said Nigel, “see you tomorrow sometime.” And with that farewell he flew off into the evening sky.
 |
| Meeting of the Pigeon Council at 'The Firs' |
Thirty pigeons attended the meeting and Tubby informed them of the plight of the SBS. He asked that everyone fly off to different towns and villages and pass on the distressing news. He also told them to encourage everyone they met to fly to more distant parts and inform other pigeon communities. He stressed that the need is for organic fruit, vegetables and herbs to be delivered to Malvern HQ as soon as possible.
Tubby, Polly and Peter then flew off to Malvern HQ to see what assistance they could provide. Surprisingly Nigel met them at the entrance to the loft. “How are you Nigel?” inquired Tubby. “A lot better Tubby,” said Nigel, “thanks to that salad stuff you provided yesterday. Got some bad news though two of the boys passed away last night; I hope your salads work for the rest of the boys.” “I’ll take over the kitchen,” said Polly. “I’ll make sure everyone gets proper food from now on; we will get the boys better.”
That day birds arrived every ten minutes or so, passed on their good wishes to the Squadron and left gifts of fresh fruit and vegetables. You could tell from the different pigeon accents that the birds were coming in from all over England and Wales. There was even two from Scotland and one from France who brought garlic.
As the evening drew in, Percy consoled the Commander, Brighton flew off to see his mates and Tubby, Polly, Peter and Nigel sat down for a rest and a meal. Barely had they started on their food when Percy entered the room. “More bad news,” he said, “another flyer has passed away. The organic food seems to be working for some of the chaps but not for others.”
“Well there is only one thing left that we can do,” said Polly. “What’s that Mum?” inquired Peter. “The boys must have the magic black seaweed,” said Polly, “it cures every ailment known to pigeons.” “That true,” said Tubby, “but it comes from Whitsand Bay in Cornwall at a secret location known only to Uncle Roy in Plymouth and a few Cornish birds; how can we contact him?”
 |
| Whitsand Bay, Cornwall |
“Your not talking about Flying Officer Roy Wotton by any chance are you?" inquired Nigel. “Yes,” said Tubby, “that’s his full name.” “We did our basic training together at RAF Chivenor, at Barnstaple, many years ago; he flies for the Plymouth Arrows,” added Nigel. “That’s him,” said Tubby. “Roy is an old pal of mine, I’ll fly down there and see him,” added Nigel. “Your too weak after your illness,” said Polly, “you will never cover that distance.” “Duty calls Polly,” said Nigel, “it has to be done.” “His loft is at Plymstock,” said Tubby, “overlooking the River Plym. You can’t miss it,” added Tubby, “for some obscure reason their human carer has painted the loft green, black and white.”
 |
| An inlet of the River Plym near Plymstock |
“Well no time to waste,” said Nigel, “see you tomorrow sometime.” And with that farewell he flew off into the evening sky.
To be continued....
Photographic Acknowledgements
The above images were provided, with thanks, from the following organisations:
Whitsand Bay - whitsandbayhotel.co.uk
Plymstock - plymouthdailyphoto.blogspot.com
Whitsand Bay - whitsandbayhotel.co.uk
Plymstock - plymouthdailyphoto.blogspot.com
Wednesday, 18 March 2015
5 Bad Food is Discovered
Peter and his Dad went to see Nigel at Malvern HQ. “Peter and Tubby,” said Nigel, “good to see you chaps; I’m afraid I’m a bit crook at the moment. Off my food, bit of a temperature and sleeping a lot, not too well at all really.” “We wondered why the Squadron had not been doing the daily fly past and so came over to see if there was a problem,” said Peter’s Dad. “Now we realise why the boys are not flying. Have a good sleep Nigel we will do what we can to get all of you boys better again.”
Peter and his Dad returned to Percy the Mynah bird who was now talking to Brighton the sea gull. “Yes the airmen do look in a bad way Percy,” said Peter’s Dad, “but you two boys seem healthy enough.” “Oh yes we are fine," said Brighton.
Peter looked around the loft and saw the boxes of food on the side. One was marked GM Maize and the other High-Energy Pigeon Pellets. “What does GM mean?" asked Peter.
His Dad frowned and inspected the labels on the boxes. “GM,” said Peter’s Dad, “means Genetically Modified, it’s an experimental unproven technology."
Most humans refuse to eat GM food so I do not see why us pigeons should be subjected to it. And as for these high-energy pellets, listen to this. Peter’s Dad read the label on the box of pellets:
CONTENTS: Artificial Colourings
Food Additives
Protein of Animal Origin
“Pigeons are vegetarians,” said Peter’s Dad.” "We should not be eating other animals; these pellets may even be made from dead birds." “That’s probably why me and Percy have not become ill,” said Brighton. “We don’t eat that pigeon fodder rubbish. Percy lives in the house with the Commander and is spoilt rotten with fresh fruit, seeds, nuts and millet. I always fly off in the evening to see my mates and we find lots of tasty morsels like fish and chips, pizzas and curries which humans throw away.”
“Percy you must explain to Commander Drake that it’s the food that is causing the problem,” said Peter’s Dad, “and it needs to be destroyed. Brighton is there any organic farms near here?” inquired Peter’s Dad. “Yes,” replied Brighton, “there is one half a mile away.”
“OK,” said Peter’s Dad, “we must collect as much natural organic fruit, vegetables and herbs as we can today before it gets dark and bring them back to the loft. The boys need to eat some proper food.”
Percy went off to explain to the Commander that it is the food that is making the airmen ill. The other three birds made numerous trips to and from the organic farm and collected as much food as they could before darkness fell.
“OK,” said Peter’s Dad to Brighton, “try to get the boys to eat the organic food we have collected. There is nothing more we can do here today so Peter and I will return home to Rosehill. We shall be back tomorrow with more helpers.”
As they flew off they noticed the Commander had lit a bonfire. He was burning the pellets and GM maize.
Peter and his Dad returned to Percy the Mynah bird who was now talking to Brighton the sea gull. “Yes the airmen do look in a bad way Percy,” said Peter’s Dad, “but you two boys seem healthy enough.” “Oh yes we are fine," said Brighton.
Peter looked around the loft and saw the boxes of food on the side. One was marked GM Maize and the other High-Energy Pigeon Pellets. “What does GM mean?" asked Peter.
His Dad frowned and inspected the labels on the boxes. “GM,” said Peter’s Dad, “means Genetically Modified, it’s an experimental unproven technology."
Most humans refuse to eat GM food so I do not see why us pigeons should be subjected to it. And as for these high-energy pellets, listen to this. Peter’s Dad read the label on the box of pellets:
CONTENTS: Artificial Colourings
Food Additives
Protein of Animal Origin
“Pigeons are vegetarians,” said Peter’s Dad.” "We should not be eating other animals; these pellets may even be made from dead birds." “That’s probably why me and Percy have not become ill,” said Brighton. “We don’t eat that pigeon fodder rubbish. Percy lives in the house with the Commander and is spoilt rotten with fresh fruit, seeds, nuts and millet. I always fly off in the evening to see my mates and we find lots of tasty morsels like fish and chips, pizzas and curries which humans throw away.”
“Percy you must explain to Commander Drake that it’s the food that is causing the problem,” said Peter’s Dad, “and it needs to be destroyed. Brighton is there any organic farms near here?” inquired Peter’s Dad. “Yes,” replied Brighton, “there is one half a mile away.”
 |
| The local Organic Farm |
“OK,” said Peter’s Dad, “we must collect as much natural organic fruit, vegetables and herbs as we can today before it gets dark and bring them back to the loft. The boys need to eat some proper food.”
Percy went off to explain to the Commander that it is the food that is making the airmen ill. The other three birds made numerous trips to and from the organic farm and collected as much food as they could before darkness fell.
“OK,” said Peter’s Dad to Brighton, “try to get the boys to eat the organic food we have collected. There is nothing more we can do here today so Peter and I will return home to Rosehill. We shall be back tomorrow with more helpers.”
As they flew off they noticed the Commander had lit a bonfire. He was burning the pellets and GM maize.
 |
| Commander Drake burns the suspect food |
To be continued......
Photographic Acknowledgements
The above images were provided, with thanks, from the following organisations:
GM sign - alamy.com
Organic Farm - organic-center.org
Bonfire - Garden Picture Library
GM sign - alamy.com
Organic Farm - organic-center.org
Bonfire - Garden Picture Library
Friday, 6 March 2015
2. The Rescue
"Are you ok sir?" Enquired Peter to the fallen bird. "Be fine in a while old chap," came the reply. "Took a bit of a nose dive back there. Not been feeling too well recently, got a bit of a dodgy stomach, half the boys at the mess are suffering at the moment. Anyway my name is Nutter, Flying Officer Nutter to be precise. Please call me 'Nigel', all my pals do." "Pleased to meet you Nigel," said Peter introducing himself. "This is my Dad," added Peter, "his friends call him 'Tubby'."
"Look Nigel," said Peter's Dad, "You are in no fit state to fly back to Malvern today. I suggest that you rest at our place for the weekend and then rejoin your pals on Monday morning when your boys do their normal fly past." "Are you sure?," asked Nigel, "as long as I'm not putting you or your good hen to any trouble. I must say it's a good job you boys came along, these Downs are full of dogs and even the odd fox, I could have been in a spot of bother."
"Do you think you can make it to Rosehill?" said Peter's Dad. "Oh I am sure I can," replied Nigel and the three birds flew off to Peter's home, a tall Californian Redwood tree called 'The Firs' on the edge of town.
At Peter's home Nigel was introduced to Peter's mum Polly who despite her previous reservations about the SBS welcomed the distinguished guest and told him to rest and recover from his ordeal.
"Nice place you've got here Tubby," said Nigel. "Thanks," replied Peter's Dad. "We call it
'The Firs', we have twenty five nests on nine stories. I bought it off an old crow a few years back for three trout, two dead hedgehogs and a sack of walnuts. Mind you it was in a sorry state, you would not believe the way those crows live, scruffy lot you know. I've done quite a bit of work on the property and I think my investment is starting to pay off. Last summer we held a party for family and friends and fifty five birds turned up. Pigeons came from all over England and Wales. "Even Uncle Roy, a racing pigeon from Plymouth, Devon turned up," chipped in Peter excitedly, "he is a distant relative of ours you know."
"OK", said Peter's Dad ,"help yourself to a nest Nigel and relax. Polly and I will try and rustle up some food."
Two hours later Nigel awoke from a nap and was invited to join the family for dinner. "What's this?" said Nigel, "a salad, I've not had a salad for years". "But you are a pigeon," said Polly. "All us pigeons are vegetarians. What do you eat at Commander Drake's then?" "Well most of the time he feeds us corn and high energy pellets," he replied. "I thought you had a sea gull for a chef," said Polly. "Oh you mean Brighton, no he's just our batman, he cleans the loft and generally tidies up after us. Do people really think that Brighton is a chef, that's a laugh, his idea of a gourmet meal is scavenging with his mates on the local rubbish dump. Chef indeed chuckled Nigel to himself, wait until I tell the boys back at base."
"Well tonight," announced Polly, "you will have the finest organic meal you'll find in Herefordshire. We have spinach, courgettes, red onions and artichokes all to detoxify and purify the body. And all food is locally sourced from Mr Farrow's allotment." "Doesn't Mr Farrow mind," enquired Nigel. "He doesn't have a say in the matter," said Polly,"we just helps ourselves. He gets furious but he can't catch us. He can't use his gun either because we are urban pigeons that live in a town. It is illegal to fire a gun in Rosehill. Guns are for the countryside. Sometimes we have lovely food from Mrs Trigg. She puts out treats like red apples, jacket potatoes and even fancy foreign nuts. We would never steal any vegetables from her garden". The four pigeons then sat down to their feast and spent hours and hours talking Pigeon language.
"Thank you very much Polly," said Nigel. "That was the finest meal I've ever tasted, I wish we had that sort of tucker at Malvern HQ, you guys certainly know how to put on a spread. Well its been a tough day, and if you good folks will forgive me I must rest now. See you all in the morning."
 |
| Flying Officer 'Nigel' Nutter |
"Look Nigel," said Peter's Dad, "You are in no fit state to fly back to Malvern today. I suggest that you rest at our place for the weekend and then rejoin your pals on Monday morning when your boys do their normal fly past." "Are you sure?," asked Nigel, "as long as I'm not putting you or your good hen to any trouble. I must say it's a good job you boys came along, these Downs are full of dogs and even the odd fox, I could have been in a spot of bother."
"Do you think you can make it to Rosehill?" said Peter's Dad. "Oh I am sure I can," replied Nigel and the three birds flew off to Peter's home, a tall Californian Redwood tree called 'The Firs' on the edge of town.
 |
| The Firs |
At Peter's home Nigel was introduced to Peter's mum Polly who despite her previous reservations about the SBS welcomed the distinguished guest and told him to rest and recover from his ordeal.
"Nice place you've got here Tubby," said Nigel. "Thanks," replied Peter's Dad. "We call it
'The Firs', we have twenty five nests on nine stories. I bought it off an old crow a few years back for three trout, two dead hedgehogs and a sack of walnuts. Mind you it was in a sorry state, you would not believe the way those crows live, scruffy lot you know. I've done quite a bit of work on the property and I think my investment is starting to pay off. Last summer we held a party for family and friends and fifty five birds turned up. Pigeons came from all over England and Wales. "Even Uncle Roy, a racing pigeon from Plymouth, Devon turned up," chipped in Peter excitedly, "he is a distant relative of ours you know."
 |
| Uncle Roy at his loft in Plymouth |
"OK", said Peter's Dad ,"help yourself to a nest Nigel and relax. Polly and I will try and rustle up some food."
Two hours later Nigel awoke from a nap and was invited to join the family for dinner. "What's this?" said Nigel, "a salad, I've not had a salad for years". "But you are a pigeon," said Polly. "All us pigeons are vegetarians. What do you eat at Commander Drake's then?" "Well most of the time he feeds us corn and high energy pellets," he replied. "I thought you had a sea gull for a chef," said Polly. "Oh you mean Brighton, no he's just our batman, he cleans the loft and generally tidies up after us. Do people really think that Brighton is a chef, that's a laugh, his idea of a gourmet meal is scavenging with his mates on the local rubbish dump. Chef indeed chuckled Nigel to himself, wait until I tell the boys back at base."
 |
| Brighton |
"Well tonight," announced Polly, "you will have the finest organic meal you'll find in Herefordshire. We have spinach, courgettes, red onions and artichokes all to detoxify and purify the body. And all food is locally sourced from Mr Farrow's allotment." "Doesn't Mr Farrow mind," enquired Nigel. "He doesn't have a say in the matter," said Polly,"we just helps ourselves. He gets furious but he can't catch us. He can't use his gun either because we are urban pigeons that live in a town. It is illegal to fire a gun in Rosehill. Guns are for the countryside. Sometimes we have lovely food from Mrs Trigg. She puts out treats like red apples, jacket potatoes and even fancy foreign nuts. We would never steal any vegetables from her garden". The four pigeons then sat down to their feast and spent hours and hours talking Pigeon language.
"Thank you very much Polly," said Nigel. "That was the finest meal I've ever tasted, I wish we had that sort of tucker at Malvern HQ, you guys certainly know how to put on a spread. Well its been a tough day, and if you good folks will forgive me I must rest now. See you all in the morning."
To be continued.........
Photographic Acknowledgements
The above images were provided, with thanks, from the following organisations:
Flying Officer Nigel Nutter - ebay.co.uk
Uncle Roy from Plymouth - pigeonads.co.uk
Brighton the Sea Gull - imascientist.org.uk
Uncle Roy from Plymouth - pigeonads.co.uk
Brighton the Sea Gull - imascientist.org.uk
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