They’re noisy little fluff bombs. Not sure whether we have boys or girls yet, enjoying the fluffiness while it lasts.
A tragic day this morning with the devastating news of the bombing in Manchester, couldn’t help but cry when I looked at the news. Gruff offered me his sausages to cheer me up. I settled for a hug.
Two school runs in busy unforgiving traffic and dropped everyone off. I got home and mooched up he garden to clean out the hen coop and decided to check on my broody hen Ninja who is on day twenty of her incubation.
Look what greeted me, you’re early little one but most welcome.
Ninja is sitting on some eggs and they’re not hers, in fact they’re not from any of my hens. They’ve been brought in from our local community farm.
It takes twenty one days for fertile chicken eggs to incubate and we’re almost there. This time next week, we may hear cheeping again in our nursery coop.
She rarely leaves her nest, only coming out once a day to stuff her face with corn. The other hens have been cordoned off for now until we see what’s hatched.
Evie has taken on the task of letting the hens out in the morning.
Today I noticed that the keys to the hen pen were missing. After scouring the house I gave up and decided to collect the eggs…
…and found a lovely warm set of keys under one of our hens.
Thought it would be a good day to touch up the chicken house with a lick of paint. Even put a lovely chicken painting on the side.
Not sure why some of my ladies are now walking around with flecks of bright blue on their feathers…
Meet our two latest additions to our chicken family, Bluebell and Gumball. They’re very young and won’t be laying for probably another month or so. They are very tame and don’t seem phased by all the commotion the other other chickens are raging at them through their mesh partition.
On a brighter note I couldn’t help but notice some odd behaviour from my chickens this morning. Normally when it rains heavily, they sprint under the hen house to wait it out until it eases but today was different.
In the most torrential hail storm they seemed to be sprinting around their pen like something irresistably tasty had landed in their midst.
They were eating the little hailstones as they fell like a fresh sprinkling of corn.
It hurts to laugh at the moment but I broke the frown for that one.