Realgrumpytyke

By Realgrumpytyke

Chatting with chickens

A grey miserable morning, far too warm for January, brightened up early afternoon and tempted us to make our favourite short walk to the other end of the village. It's about half an hour leisurely stroll to get there. The end of our walk, at Bleach Mill House, is a perfect spot to have a conversation with some magnificent hens and collect some of their eggs.
The eggs are usually in the front porch of the lovely old building and there's an honour system for paying. The money all goes to charity. Sue and Simon were in but they were just about to have Sunday lunch so we didn't stay. Good for my weight as otherwise I'd have been tempted to stay for some of Sue's home-made cake and a tea.
In the 19th century, the clear water running down from Ilkley moor was used in the bleaching of flax, hence the 'bleach mill'.

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