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The sawdust was certainly kicked up, but is the UK now any nearer to enjoying widespread chicken contentment? It’s two media-frenzied weeks since Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall launched his Chicken Out! campaign, and his series ‘Hugh’s Chicken Run‘ highlighted the less than ideal conditions that intensively farmed chickens have to endure to bring the British consumer a value-for-money bird.

Part of Channel 4’s ‘Big Food Fight‘ season, the three-night series told the story of how standard birds are reared and readied for the supermarket shelf, and what a miserable life they have compared to the Free Range chickens which frolic and wander in the great outdoors. The shows also highlighted the fact that most of the standard birds are now sold at rock bottom prices, with many outlets offering ‘2 for £5′ deals.

Turning his home town of Axminster Free Range by the end of the last programme, the TV chef’s campaign has steadily gained support, and by this evening, the sign-up counter rolled over its 114,210th name (well done Chloe from York).

The series made for shocking viewing, made worse by the fact that 95% of the UK’s birds for eating are reared this way. Of course, caged battery hen conditions are even worse, so it does seem that if you do want to have a conscience and give the birds a better life, Free Range birds and eggs are the only way to go.

Ethically-minded and of a compassionate nature, I see no reason why anyone cannot afford to shell out (pun intended) the little extra cost the Free Range products attract. A friend pointed out to me last week that at the end of the day, whether a chicken has roamed the countryside, or roamed (or tried to roam) in its own droppings in an intensive barn, the end result is the same; the chicken is still killed.

Fair point, I thought, but if you were told you had a choice of a nice life or a miserable one, which would you choose? It’s not hard to work out the answer.

It’s the same for other meat, too, I guess. And, the argument goes that if you’re really against all cruelty to animals, then go vegetarian, or at least pescetarian. And yes, I do have chicken breast fillets in my freezer, and I very much doubt they are Free Range. I did buy them before the programme, though, but I will look to seek out the Free Range option when I next need to buy.

That’s if I can. The Chicken Out! campaign website reports that both Tesco and Sainsbury’s have reported a huge increase in Free Range and higher welfare poultry sales since the TV programmes were aired (Sainsbury’s even say that there are availability issues with their Free Range stock), and farmers also state that Free Range birds are very much in demand. As are eggs, which are enjoying their best sales for over 15 years.

The other argument is that free-range produce are much more expensive. This is true, but the price differential isn’t that great. On the Sainsbury’s website tonight, a large standard chicken weighing 2.5kg was £2.19/kg, with the free range West Country bird coming in at £3.99/kg. yes, that’s £1.80/kg more, but it’s not that much more, when economies can be made elsewhere, and is still better value and endlessly healthier than your local KFC.

I’m on a budget, and yes, I only have to worry abut myself, but if other non-necessities are culled from the weekly shopping bill, then free range birds are in the realm of every shopper. It’s only if people want to change things, they’ll buy the kinder option.

The 800 million chickens reared in these awful conditions need our support. So, go on, go Free Range, and get those chickens out.

Today, the first fine weather all week gave us the perfect opportunity to get out and about in the Essex countryside. So, we motored out to Loves Green, the scene of a previous geocaching afternoon. We weren’t there to primarily search out treasure, though.

The area is well-known for deer sightings, and it was the possibility of seeing a herd of the graceful animals that had lured us into the shaded and sometimes dimly-lit woods this afternoon. We had to wait even less time than we thought before we saw something.

As we started to walk down the sometimes muddy rutted field track, the tall wild stubble to our left moved and two heads popped up above the wavering stems. Swivelling around like submarine periscopes, they surveyed the view to the left and to the right, before sighting us some distance away down the path. We just had time to reach into our bags and retrieve our cameras before there was movement again.

The cut stubble moved gently once more, and with a ssh-ssh-ssh-ssh, the deer elegantly leapt through the field, their heads and bodies bobbing up and down, like funfair carousel horses. Coming to a clearing in front of us, they revealed themselves to be a pair of parents with a young fawn. Surveying their surroundings once more, they thought better of us and disappeared again into the gently undulating landscape.

Pleased with our first sighting, we carried on down the path, carved out by walkers and bramble pickers before us, and into the often muddy woods. Eventually remembering where the well-hidden and well-stocked cache was, we liberated a travel bug and signed the geocachers’ log. Many pages of the log told tales of lucky deer herd sightings, while others conveyed less fortunate stories.

Walking through the field which yielded a far away and fading light herd sighting when we last visited in January, today there was nothing. Vowing to come back in the summer seemed so far away all those months ago, and we did think back then that we would be luckier than we were today.

Wildlife is precisely that, though; wild and unpredictable. So, the pictures here will have to do until the next time, but, I think we were happy with what we had seen, even if it was through our zoom lenses.

Working at home, you’re witness to all sorts of goings on which you obviously don’t see when you’re at work. This week, I’ve been noting the shifting times with which the squirrels visit next door’s garden to grab their stash of nuts from the feeder.

The morning shift had already switched to a much earlier time, and yesterday, as I was at home, I heard the clap-clap of the feeder lid two hours earlier than when I thought they visited.

Usually arriving home from work in the early evening, I’d noticed that as the daylight hours gradually extended, so did the length of time the rodents stayed and fed on the fence near the flat.

Arriving before dusk in the late afternoon during winter, now the tree-dwelling creatures arrive around 17h00. Over the next two hours, the feeder sees a flurry of activity, as a squad of at least three squigs pay visits to the little square wooden box.

One in particular is very well-fed, and must grab more than its fair share of the food. Reaching inside the box, it has to keep one foot on the platform to balance, and is definitely more rotund than it was in the darker months.

The smaller ones almost disappear into the feeder, and are spritelier, chasing each other off the platform and onto the fence. They seem to be quite happy to share the nut stash, although at times, the chases send the pair up the trees, along the fence, or across the back lawn, sometimes at lightning speeds.

They’re so fun to watch, and can be caught unawares if they’re eating on the fence and a human is spotted. They can be so shocked, that they scamper along the fence panels sideways, with two claws showing over the top of the dividing wall. Jumping up onto the garage roofs and running into the trees behind, they then disappear from view.

Vermin? Questionably. Cute? Undoubtedly.

And, three bundles of furry fun.