Busy, busy, busy

Well, there's been some rain recently. Did I say rain? I actually meant it's the end of the world, and we're all going to be getting into the ark within the next couple of days!

Our garden has turned into a swimming pool. The fact we have clay soil means that the water pools, and pools, and pools. A trip down to the cabin needs wellies at the very least, and the grass is submerged. Really.

Since they've tasted freedom, none of the hens would consider spending an extra 10 minutes in their house, even if it were hailing footballs! So each and every day, despite rain which would knock you over, out they come, and out they come into the rain.

Hens aren't ducks. Hens get wet. Their feathers get wet. And they look bedraggled.

They have been pecking and scratching and paddling all week. And they do still seem happy. When the rain just gets too much, they take shelter. It can be under the patio table or in the rabbit hutch - almost anywhere but in their house. They've been scratching about as normal, and they're mainly wearing little muddy boots whenever you look at them.

They're laying like troupers and we're still getting around 2 eggs a day. 

Cleaning out their house is getting a little harder though, as the rain makes it hard to do anything efficiently. Still they get a top dressing every day, and a thorough clean out at the weekends. But boy, do they poop! We have 3 de-pooping sessions in the garden every day, simply to make it easier to get around without trailing poop everywhere. Though the rain has made it somewhat easier, as it washes a lot of it away.

My sister, Samantha, and the family were down from Scotland last weekend. Sam has been pestering Steve for hens for quite a while now, and he was a little ambivalent. However, seeing the pretty ladies in our garden and seeing how they aren't as hard to look after as he had thought, she's going to be getting her hens a whole lot faster.

Soon everyone in the whole of England will have their own hens. Think how great this would be! There would be fresh eggs in every kitchen, and commercial eggs would only be necessary for commercial purposes. Could we get any more Good Life?

Aaron wants a Dexter cow now - and I am considering it!

Calci-yumee

As you will remember, Betty was squirting out eggs without shells, and I made a desperate call to people who know about hens.

Their advice and kindness was invaluable, and we started a regime of improved vitamins and minerals for all 3 hens.

And Betty is back to having eggs with shells! And she doesn't sound like she is being plucked when she lays them either!

We had started the ladies off with layers' pellets - a sort of compressed, provides-everything type of food. The ladies were keen-ish on them, but seemed to prefer scratching and rooting about.

I picked up some mixed grain locally, and looked through the cupboards. So for the last week to 10 days, my sweet ladies have been munching on the grain, some of the pellets, strawberries, tomatoes, pasta, potatoes, broccoli (though Cloud has been keen to eat a lot of this!), shredded wheat, soaked in water, and porridge oats - which they love.

So it's been odd - just like feeding the rest of the family in a way. Dinner now includes extra portions of everything, and the extras go out to the hens. It may well only be 4 potatoes or a couple of spoons of pasta, but they love it, and it costs us, well, hardly anything!

Dylan discovered that corn on the cob is a big one for the hens. They have one chopped into thirds, so everyone gets a portions, and they rough and tumble and steal each other's corn.

There is something so very funny about watching a hen with a corn cob in its beak, leg it up the garden, with 2 more hens in hot pursuit!

They all get regular crushed egg shells and each and every one of them is now a gourmand! Not bothered about quality - they want quantity!

Aside from this they are pecking the grass, and everything else they can get to with delight! They get let out of the run about 8am, and they go back in at dusk. In all honesty, they seem to be having a great time. Our garden has a shrub border down one side, with bark chips and lots of tunnel-like space, and they just love running up and down there, stopping to dig and peck every now and then.

I had forgotten the many warnings about young plants and hens. So mea culpa when it came to them following in the rabbits' footsteps and munching on all of my baby beetroots, lettuce seedlings, basil and mint!

Cloud started off the trend by hopping up into the seedling planter and chomping away. It was like a scene from Peter Rabbit! Then Buddy joined the game, and they demolished most of the basil. Then the hens realised they could get up there too, and in less than an hour, they took a reasonably full and bounteous planter and emptied the damned thing! Including the compost, which ended up dug out and thrown about!

I can honestly say I love the 3 of them, despite their vegetation vandalism, and homing them has been just one of the best things I have ever embarked on.

Oops goes the egg!

Busy knitting day today, so there was no plan to add to my blog here tonight. However, Shelly popped round for some chat and some machine knitting advice, and Shelly KNOWS about hens!

This evening, post shopping expedition and knitting day, I went out to give the ladies some corn on the cob and some left over peas. Betty looked a little, well, round! She seemed to inflate as I was watching her. And this was somewhat alarming. The next thing I know, she gave an unhappy squawk, and egg yolk and white shot out of her, splatting all over Jiggly! This, by the way, did not phase Jiggly at all, who just guzzled the bit that missed her. (Shudder!)

Ok, so I panicked then! After all, it's one thing to see an egg come out of a chicken; it's quite another to see an egg, without a shell, come shooting out of one!

I rang Shelly. I realise this was probably bad manners - they may have been eating - but I was very concerned about Betty. Thankfully, my phone call was received graciously and, more importantly, with good and sensible advice.

Paul answered and I untied my tongue long enough to explain who I was and why I was calling. What a gentleman! Between him and Shelly, I learned that the ladies are now exercising more than they ever have before, and, as they have begun to adapt to the fresh air and freedom, their dietary requirements have changed.

Betty is short of calcium, and probably vitamins and minerals. Hence the egg without the shell. Kind and informative advice saw me hard boiling her an egg, and adding some spaghetti to the water once it was cooked.

Then I popped outside, with the egg suitably crumbed, and distracted Jiggly and RazorBeak with the spaghetti, whilst Betty munched on her boiled egg. No, she didn't want soldiers with it, but she did have a couple of strings of spaghetti to help it all down. I've also cooked down and crushed up the shell, and that, along with a bit of grit and pellets, has been popped into the pot for feeding them tomorrow morning. They also have broccoli hanging down from their run.

The kind guardians of chicken welfare have assured me this is not a deathly illness - yes, I was that dumb! - and I'm going to keep an eye on all 3 of them over the next few days to make sure they are getting all the goodness they need.

A million thank you's to P and Shelly for being kind and helpful, and not impatient with the out-of-the-blue call!

Peas and quiet

We've had a relatively quiet sort of week. No dramas or alarms. Robert managed to get a job at last, and his A-level results came in. Yay and hurray for the job, a little more subdued for the results. To be fair, he passed all 3, but got D's across the board, when it had been projected he'd be achieving A's and B's.

To tell you the truth, the hens don't care really how he's done. They do care that he's been more attentive to them as he's feeling happier and brighter than he has done in a while. Betty now lets him pick her up regularly, and she even toddles up to him when he comes out into the garden.

They all do seem to like Robert, especially his shoe laces. Of late, when he wanders around chatting to them, they peck and peck at his feet, to the point where he has to back up to avoid standing on them!

Dylan has discovered he is braver with them than he thought he was. Truth be told, he was very nervous when he needed to go anywhere near them, especially if Razorbeak was in the vicinity. However, he has been feeding them my failed peas out of the planter, and they all seem to regard him as some kind of deity!

It is one of the funniest things to watch: Dylan gets the peas out of the pod, and approaches the hens. Each hen cocks her head about, looking to see if he has anything for them. He stoops down, fist closed, and then slowly opens it to reveal the pea. The nearest hen then swoops in and grabs it, and heads down the garden at speed, desperately trying to munch the pea before the other ladies realise she has it!

This repeats until the canny ladies realise Dylan has more than that single pea. And then they flock to him. He can lead them all around the garden, hands held out at his sides, and they follow along, necks craned, hoping he will dispense more.

He has now worked out that they'll chase one of his yellow balls around too, and he basically plays fetch with them for ages.

These are such worthwhile pets. Everyone in the house is attached to them, and more and more of our free time is spent out in the garden, just being peaceful. The rabbits bounce, the hens peck, the kids play and we all just relax.

I just want about another 30 hens and some land, and then life would be perfect!

Hasn't it been quiet?

I've been busy. Very busy. Imagine a busy sort of day, multiply it by 12, and that was my busy week. Well, that's my excuse for not posting recently.

The ladies, as I know you are clamouring to know, are very well! They have been producing eggs at a prodigious rate, and are out and about. They love the garden, and are currently working on removing all of my bark chips from the shrub border onto the lawn where it will look oh so much better. Everyone's a critic!

Egg-wise, these ladies are the business. We have only had one day without any eggs, and that was the first day they spent pretty much completely in the garden. I think they were thrown a little by the big old space, and the fact the sky wasn't falling. We let them out on the 5th as I already said, and they didn't like it one bit. The next day was a little better, with all three heading out for about an hour. We let them out about an hour before dusk, and they were nervous and darted in and out of the run all the time, and trouped back in when it started getting dark. That was great progress.

The next day, 7th, they spent a little longer, and then by 8th August, they were OUT!

As you can see they discovered that the garden walls are a little further apart than those in the run, and they went for it.


Everything proceeded apace, and they spent the best part of the afternoon out and about investigating. Razorbeak was very brave and investigated the patio and greenhouse. She seemed to find it all pretty exciting, as she spent about half an hour clucking about, and then whizzed back to her mates and dragged them all down there too.


Jigglypuff decided to investigate Dylan's boats and buckets, but couldn't decide just how to eat them, so Dylan managed to rescue his boat, and scolded the poor hen for her curiosity. He must have had a good 5 minute conversation about the evils of boat pecking, and Jigglypuff and he ended the dressing down with a handful of corn each.


Then someone let the rabbits out. Buddy (black and white) and Cloud (grey) are normally out for most of the day. However, with the hens' lack of confidence in the garden, we'd kept them in whilst the hens were out. Jack felt the grace period was now finished, and out came the bunnies. Then in went the bunnies! Apparently, in the pecking order of small animals, hens out peck rabbits, and our poor tufty-tails got chased up the garden at speed when the ladies saw them coming!


It took a while for the two rabbits to work out how to slip past the ladies, and finally they installed themselves under the sand table and kept a close eye on them. Gradually their curiosity got the better of them. First Buddy then Cloud crept closer. And closer. And closer.


And PECK!


The rabbits hightailed it again, only to find themselves flanked and outmanoeuvred. They managed to achieve a peace with the hens by mid-evening, but it is simple to work out that the hens are the top tier, trailed by the rabbits, with poor Millie Cat coming in a sad third.

In the last couple of days, all three hens have spent all day outside, with the rabbits staying about - together but apart. They get a little anxious when Jigglypuff decides to hide in their hutch and scope out their living arrangements - and she does it about 3 times a day. We have to shoo Jiggly out, and she gets quite indignant about it!


The chooks have realised that rabbits dig. And they follow them around, using the bunnies' excavating skills to score juicy worms and other icky things. Cloud spent an industrious 30 minutes digging her own version of the Chunnel, and then Betty kicked her out of the way, and wedged her head down there, chomping and clucking and pretty much shaking with delight.

Betty had developed a limp, but we rubbed some Arnica cream on her leg, and she's right as nine pence now. She also has a habit of trying to sleep under the flowering redcurrant at night. Robert has become a Betty expert and she is quite content for him to hunt her down in the evening and return her to her house.

I met some real hen experts and all round good eggs as well this week - but my fingers are tired and so are my eyes, so I am going to hit the hay, and add another post tomorrow.

And we made our first half dozen!

Yes! Yes! Yes!

Forgive the Harry Met Sally moment, but we now are the proud possessors of 6 eggs! Just look at them!


Tomorrow we're having poached eggs on toast!

The three ladies are all well and clucky. They make the most unusual noises if you get too close - plucking and grumbling - but we let them out for the first time, near to dusk, to ensure they would head back in without our having to chase them. Apparently, hens always go into their roost when it gets dark; a handy fact that!


They were wary of coming out, and then RazorBeak went for it. She popped up to see me in the cabin, looked at the hammock with her head tilted off to one side, and then headed back to the run! Unfortunately, she went slightly wrong, and ended up at the side instead of at the door. So she and Madame Jigglypuff ended up having a natter through the mesh, and she was getting quite upset.

I ended up having to pick her up and put her back in. Another first: I'd never picked up a hen before. We were both nervous and I think we were each relieved when it was over. She feels quite muscled and she was straining to flap, but I picked her up as per BHWT info and it was all fine.

Madame Jigglypuff poked her head out of the door, but declined to exit. She was pleased to see RazorBeak back safely.

Betty stayed in the coop and refused to even come into the run.

Better luck tomorrow, ladies!

We have eggs!

Yup, it wasn't just a fluke!

Jack came bouncing in (he does that a lot), with another two eggs this morning. Both were perfect: classically egg-like, with speckles and everything. Even better, they weren't icky and warm, which was a relief.

We are using egg boxes we've squirrelled away over the last few months, so we now have four in our 1 dozen box. Yippee!

Talking to Aaron, however, on Google talk a little later, and he told me that, on his way out to get his bike, he'd looked in on our ladies, and there had been a third egg! Seemingly, by the time he passed them, the egg had been broken and was in the process of being mashed into the ground. So our 4 eggs could have been 5!

I've heard that this happens. Whether through carelessness or just plain naughtiness, I don't know, but eggs may well be destroyed by hens. Sigh. Hopefully this was a one-off, especially as it had been laid right next to the feeder! Surely they will learn to lay in the box at some point. The other four eggs had been laid in the coop, admittedly not in the nesting box, but also not right next to their breakfast either.

It looks like they chomped all of the egg up, so perhaps it is a necessary thing.

We have no idea yet which hen is laying which egg - something we will have to have a closer look at later on. For now, I am happy enough to let them get on with it privately, without upsetting them by having this ugly mug watching them doing their business. At least, if you include the broken egg today, we know all three ladies are laying!

So all in all, I am still floating on air with the success of the egg-laying. Perhaps they are feeling at home and content. It would be very nice to think so!

Tomorrow they will be allowed out to range about in the garden - I can't wait!