The Homestead freezers are looking pretty empty. As the stockpile dwindles, meals become more creative and less meat based; the chilli is equal parts mince and lentils, the bones of the last roast are picked clean for curry over rice that, the following night, is served up again in pastry. It’s a good time to give the freezers a defrost and wipe down, discovering that very last lamb shank and gathering together those frozen-golfball tomatoes that always manage to escape the sauce collection bag.

Today the flock got to gorge themselves in the old duck pen. Tomorrow they’ll be coaxed out by the rattling food bucket and the gate closed again until Wednesday. That’s when Pete from Malvern Homekill is turning up and four of our flock will go back into the old duck pen for the last time.

It never gets easier, I always cry, but it’s how we chose to live.