Today I spent a good few hours rearranging all my pens to keep the age groups in one place. I have chickens all over the place so it was time to make it more organised.
Well after I caught them up, they ran off, so I caught them again. They didn’t like their new pen because it was obviously a scary place. So inconsiderate! Considering I spent ages digging in some lime to disinfect the area. It also rearranged my hair as I got it caught in the netting. Dragged through a hedge backwards is a recurring theme for me these days. They then made a bolt for the door every time I brought another 2 over. I don’t know about them, but I found it quite stressful. It certainly increased my step count for the day according to my fitness phone app so not all bad!!
When I finally finished I took a picture so I could see what I had and which colour mixes I had. This is not the only batch of chickens I have either so I might have to give myself a stern talking to.
These are now ready to go to their new homes. We have Brahma in Pyle, and Buff Columbian. We have some Orpingtons in Lavender and some Swedish Flower Hens Crossed with either Leghorn or Ancona.
That moment when you realise exactly how many chickens you have. Chicken maths – aka chicken addiction – is a real thing, especially here.
For the uninitiated, the term Chicken Maths relates to a Phenomenon (excuse) for why numbers of chickens get out of control. It starts off by getting a flock of 3, then because you cannot add a single chicken to an existing flock, you end up with 2 more. If you lose one and need to replace it, you end up with another 2 minimum. And so it goes.
Of all the seasons I hate the Autumn the most. I find it hard to find joy in anything. The balmy warmth of Summer is retreating and only dank damp decay is creeping over the still landscape. I am looking out of the window now and I can see partially bare trees with limp leaves which can hardly muster enough energy to look alive. Yes, the colour is there but there is no wind. Autumn has a sort of stillness as though it is waiting to be something else. Dismal is how Autumn makes me feel. It’s as though I have just lost a friend that I will not see again for ages. I am feeling maudling today.
It’s time to go and see my chooks. Sitting with them always cheers me up. They should bottle the sort of therapy they give me. At one time once Autumn raised her stifling blanket of dreariness I never left the house. Now I have a reason to be outdoors, which is helpful. It gives me some much-needed exercise too. Roll on Winter. Now winter is a proper season. It is invigorating, wild, stark, architectural, crisp and bright. Winter isn’t pretending to be anything it’s not. I love winter.
Welcome to our world of chicken keeping. A place where everything is not quite what it seems. A world where once there was no noise in the garden, where no crooning from contented voices happened and where chicken poo seemed something only mad people even looked at – let alone touched. This has become our world and we welcome you to it.
Now I am not the most prolific blogger in the world as you may find out but I do have an enduring passion for these lovable and interactive creatures. They are my guilty pleasure and also my happy place of calm. So much so, that I could not imagine life without them.
This is Doris. She is a Lohmann Brown and an ex-batt. She was one of our first chickens. A very lucky girl as she was rescued through the British Hen Welfare Trust from a battery farm existence and was destined for the knackers yard. She came to us virtually oven ready, with two friends that we called Queenie and Beryl, and she blossomed into the lovely hen you see here. We are so lucky to have rescued her as she taught us a lot about chicken-kind and so our unlikely story began….