Whistling at turkeys

In London we had our regular walking routes, the ones we had to do to get anywhere, namely:

- the school run (or rather drag)

- to the park (usually by scooter)

- to the library or cafes (same as the school run, but without the need to drag)

- to church (short-cut through an estate and past the police station, often by bike)

- to one of three bus stops.

Here we drive to get anywhere so walks are just for the sake of walking. Because the air is fresh and the countryside is beautiful. Neither of these reasons work on the kids, so we have to come up with alternative incentives. These are the ones that work:

- jumping in muddy puddles

- watching sheep do poos

- decorating the glade in the Christmas Tree Forest

- playing pirate games on top of the reservoir

- finding dandelion leaves for the guinea pigs

- foraging for firewood

- feeding the friendly horses.

This Sunday we took a different route to feed the friendly horses and happened upon a field of turkeys and a goat. I don't think I've ever seen a live turkey before: dangly, red face growths, impressive peacock-esque feathers, and they really do go "gobble gobble". As we stood transfixed, their owner came out of her house accompanied by our landlady. They'd been having a brew together. Next time we're passing the owner has offered to let the kids feed the turkeys and stroke the goat. Her parting gift was a well-kept turkey secret: "If you want them to gobble at you, just whistle."

So I can now add whistling at turkeys to our list of walk incentives.