Pancake Chicken

Irma, the broody pancake

The construction of the coop is now complete.  I commend my husband Bob for doing what I could not this summer.  It would have been much easier to call ToughShed and order one.  But noooooo,  not us.  In my hay day I would have done it myself. But with "the foot" it was impossible.  There still needs to be staining and final wiring done.  Another perch ladder will come later.  The nesting boxes were the last to be attached.  My neighbor who also keeps chickens and is a skilled carpenter helped Bob.  So now I can lift up the doors on the outside of the coop to get eggs. 

Tallulah, Lil' Missy, and Mrs. E coming in.

Our cornstalks made it to the coop.

A bit more needed: paint and TLC to pretty it up.

Chickens are animals that pattern.  Our girls outgrew their old "lean to" and I removed it from the yard. However, they still sleep in the same place the former coop was.  They all bunch together against the wall.  They could go into the coop at night on their own, but noooooo.  The 4 Australorps that came later figured it out immediately, and have been sleeping in there on the small ladder from the get go.  So Bob and I have been going out in the dark with flashlights and putting them inside for the last 2 nights.   They are huddled together, and can't see at all in the dark.  We put them in the coop which still has the light on.  They blink their eyes as they adjust, and stagger across the floor. 

The shade provided from roses doubles as a tasty snack when spent!

Velma, the Langshan strutting her stuff

Can you see the love in Tallulah's eyes?

"Irma" and "Wilma" the black standard cochins are broody. If you have never seen a broody hen, you should.  Bob was working on the nesting boxes and came in to tell me that one of the black hens was "flat."  Indeed, she was flat as a pancake.  Making herself cover as much real estate as possible.  Broody hens are crazy. They make a silly trill noise when you come near them.  They are in a trance, stop laying, and eat and drink very little.  Some can get mean.  So I pick them up and get them out and moving.  It can't be helped when keeping hens.  If it gets worse, I will bring them in the yard for a few hours a day.  Wilma has picked a corner in the coop yard to hatch her imaginary eggs in. 

Ester who lays eggs as she walks around!

I continue to enjoy every moment I am with them.  When we were on our trip, I missed them terribly. Don't tell the dog and cats.  Last night I brought my camera out at dusk and took some photos.  I hope you like them.  I actually wish I could sleep with them.  Don't call the psychiatrist...I am still in my bed.  I remind myself of the old joke about the woman whose husband brings her to the psychiatrist because she thinks she's a hen.  The doctor announces that he has good news and can cure her.  The husband responds: "what will we do for eggs?"   :-)

3 over 3 nesting boxes make 6 spots for 23 hens.

Thanks for reading. 
Each day is a gift. Open now.
xo,
Suz