My morning routine these December days is to let open my chicken coop door by the time I pour my second cup of coffee. I've usually read my overnight emails, checkout my three or four favorite websites for the news by this time.
My five ladies always greet me with their quiet low tone clucking and pacing along the fence, once they figure out it is not a food drop but the opening of the coop door they run inside the coop and out to freedom. Their release follows one of two routines. The first what I call the slow dance. It is the deliberate three scratch across the yard. They prefer open soil so they tend to circle the back yard along the fence and espaliered apple trees. Occasionally they hopping up on one of the raised beds where three remaining permacultured kale plants survive. I allow that this time of the year because the bed are covered with decaying Japanese maple leaves and old straw/bedding of theirs. I have two raised beds that are covered with plastic hoop house for my kale, lettuce and chard that I grow all winter. Another newly planted strawberry bed that has re bar wire on it and they do like that bed.
The other manner in which they exit the coop is a fast four steps out and a long low flight across the lawn to the other side of the yard near my grape arbor. This is the perfect picture of freedom to me. In a total of 30 seconds they has expressed the total joy of life without a fence or enclosure. One of them gets the idea and the others follow with wings spread and flopping barely two feet off the ground. The area over there offers them the opportunity to scratch along what was last years strawberry patch and what will be my potato patch next year.
Their routine is to be out until they get bored and then they all come to my back door and sit, drop feathers (sometimes we track into the house). Patiently they waiting for me to come out and walk them back to the coop. They always follow immediately and go in gladly.
I shocked myself when I decided to get hens. It was the last thing in the world that would have crossed by mind. But with the encouragement of friends I did it and now I have to say these birds added only positive notes to my life.
Showing posts with label chickens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chickens. Show all posts
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Hens, eggs and golf balls
From the beginning the my hens has been engaging and challenging but one of these mysteries of raising chickens has been going on now for a month. Liz, named after Liz Taylor because of her totally black feathers, is unlike any of the other five hens.
My two beautiful black and white hens, I call the twins. They are largest of the group and now I find them to be the most assertive and top of the pecking order. I often make up a cereal mixture, or have food scraps from the dinner table and I serve it in two plastic long dishes in their coop. Without fail, these two hens control who eats first and are particularly aggressive toward my two red hens. Liz usually is not seen at this feeding moments.
One of the red hens is called Autumn because she displays the colors much like a pheasant in autumn colors, she is the best layer, blue/green eggs and is an Americana breed. I find her intense on the business of being herself. Unlike any of the other hens she has a little puff of feathers on the side of her head that stick straight out, I understand that is over her ears.
The other red hen is called Red. She is my best flier. She manages to get out on average once a day. Red is probably the lightest in weight and is the smartest of the birds. As I leave the house, Red comes to greeting from behind a raised bed or from a far corner of the yard. I walk toward the coop shaking some oats in a container she will follow me and easily go back in as she has missed the rest of the flock. Red suffers the most bulling from the twins at feeding time.
But Liz is the one that is a mystery. Liz ignores my noisy food container, ignores fresh water and food. She sits on three golf balls and devotes her days and nights to keep them warm while laying no eggs of her own. Occasionally, I push her out of the nest, weekly I will force her to run the yard when I am feeling generous about leaving my chickens roam free for a couple hours. I am amazed to find she will fly lowly across the yard, a flight that could easily be 20 to 30 feet. I can attest to her feasting on some clover, dancing her little two step over some bare ground but before I turn my head she is heading back to the open coop door and her golf balls.
I have tested her and moved two of the golf balls four inches away from her nest. I check 30 minutes later and she has moved her "eggs" back under her. Golf balls are one of the standard tricks to encourage chickens to lay in the nest. Liz puffs up her feathers when ever I open the nest box door to look larger but she is as gentle as humming bird. The light on her feathers produces all the colors of nature bouncing off her black. Yesterday, I found she had moved a golf ball out of the other nest eight inches.
Broody hens are common in a flock and Liz is in that mood now.
My two beautiful black and white hens, I call the twins. They are largest of the group and now I find them to be the most assertive and top of the pecking order. I often make up a cereal mixture, or have food scraps from the dinner table and I serve it in two plastic long dishes in their coop. Without fail, these two hens control who eats first and are particularly aggressive toward my two red hens. Liz usually is not seen at this feeding moments.
One of the red hens is called Autumn because she displays the colors much like a pheasant in autumn colors, she is the best layer, blue/green eggs and is an Americana breed. I find her intense on the business of being herself. Unlike any of the other hens she has a little puff of feathers on the side of her head that stick straight out, I understand that is over her ears.
The other red hen is called Red. She is my best flier. She manages to get out on average once a day. Red is probably the lightest in weight and is the smartest of the birds. As I leave the house, Red comes to greeting from behind a raised bed or from a far corner of the yard. I walk toward the coop shaking some oats in a container she will follow me and easily go back in as she has missed the rest of the flock. Red suffers the most bulling from the twins at feeding time.
But Liz is the one that is a mystery. Liz ignores my noisy food container, ignores fresh water and food. She sits on three golf balls and devotes her days and nights to keep them warm while laying no eggs of her own. Occasionally, I push her out of the nest, weekly I will force her to run the yard when I am feeling generous about leaving my chickens roam free for a couple hours. I am amazed to find she will fly lowly across the yard, a flight that could easily be 20 to 30 feet. I can attest to her feasting on some clover, dancing her little two step over some bare ground but before I turn my head she is heading back to the open coop door and her golf balls.
I have tested her and moved two of the golf balls four inches away from her nest. I check 30 minutes later and she has moved her "eggs" back under her. Golf balls are one of the standard tricks to encourage chickens to lay in the nest. Liz puffs up her feathers when ever I open the nest box door to look larger but she is as gentle as humming bird. The light on her feathers produces all the colors of nature bouncing off her black. Yesterday, I found she had moved a golf ball out of the other nest eight inches.
Broody hens are common in a flock and Liz is in that mood now.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Angels and Ancestors
How many minutes are there in a business week?
Yesterday, I matched up with the right minute and solved a problem that has been unsolvable for a month. I give credit to my ancestors or angels.
Doing a little research at a resale shop downtown Olympia because I had to fence in my chickens some how or I was to lose my gardening spaces to their habit of scratching and eating everything. I have play over in my mind the areas involved, the areas I could donate to them and the areas that I have to save for the bigger goal of growing my fruit and vegetables. Always it came up unclear to me.
An attractive couple were standing next to their van as the store owner shouted out to me, "hey, chicken fence lady, come here". I was crossing the street to get back into John's truck. As I approached the van, the shop owner was negotiating about the cedar wood and I saw a roll of chain linked fence.
"It isn't in the shop, so you guys can work out the deal, I am out of it." The young woman turned to me and said if you want fencing, we'll give it to you. I thought for a moment and could see my answer clearly. YES!
They drove across the street and lifted the fifty feet of fencing into the back of John's truck. I handed them $15 and told them to have lunch today on me. At first, they said no but then laughed and said it could be a delivery fee.
Driving home, John and I discussed the plan. Ken and Phil came over later in the afternoon and the space was marked off, steel role were pounded into the ground. Zip lock ties were used for the quick method of attaching and the new chicken yard was created. The ladies have a running space of about 8 feet by 40 among two peach and two plum trees. Lots of shade, clover and grass and a couple patches of dirty for bathing. Because the trees are dwarf trees the normal ugly fence is barely visible from the rest of the yard. Life is good for my ladies.
This summer, I tried each morning, as I walk Daisy to quite my mind and listen. Some people would use the term meditation for this, same thing. I believe wisdom comes from quiet moments and angels and ancestors watch over us and will help us if we are presence for them.
Yesterday, they put me in the right place for a minute.
Yesterday, I matched up with the right minute and solved a problem that has been unsolvable for a month. I give credit to my ancestors or angels.
Doing a little research at a resale shop downtown Olympia because I had to fence in my chickens some how or I was to lose my gardening spaces to their habit of scratching and eating everything. I have play over in my mind the areas involved, the areas I could donate to them and the areas that I have to save for the bigger goal of growing my fruit and vegetables. Always it came up unclear to me.
An attractive couple were standing next to their van as the store owner shouted out to me, "hey, chicken fence lady, come here". I was crossing the street to get back into John's truck. As I approached the van, the shop owner was negotiating about the cedar wood and I saw a roll of chain linked fence.
"It isn't in the shop, so you guys can work out the deal, I am out of it." The young woman turned to me and said if you want fencing, we'll give it to you. I thought for a moment and could see my answer clearly. YES!
They drove across the street and lifted the fifty feet of fencing into the back of John's truck. I handed them $15 and told them to have lunch today on me. At first, they said no but then laughed and said it could be a delivery fee.
Driving home, John and I discussed the plan. Ken and Phil came over later in the afternoon and the space was marked off, steel role were pounded into the ground. Zip lock ties were used for the quick method of attaching and the new chicken yard was created. The ladies have a running space of about 8 feet by 40 among two peach and two plum trees. Lots of shade, clover and grass and a couple patches of dirty for bathing. Because the trees are dwarf trees the normal ugly fence is barely visible from the rest of the yard. Life is good for my ladies.
This summer, I tried each morning, as I walk Daisy to quite my mind and listen. Some people would use the term meditation for this, same thing. I believe wisdom comes from quiet moments and angels and ancestors watch over us and will help us if we are presence for them.
Yesterday, they put me in the right place for a minute.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Books, egg and heat
I have just finished a book about ethnic American gardens by Patricia Klindienst. I was moved to tears a couple times because of the tales of immigrants and their determination to survive. THE EARTH KNOWS MY NAME is not likely to get a large audience but between the fine writer, she teaches creative writing at Yale and the research she has done for this book, it is a loss for all Americans don't read it, but especially for those that value working in the soil and enjoy the beauty of plants.
The book travels from one coast to the other, from culture to culture using the stories of ancestors, seeds and techniques to frame the common plot of all people. Besides the historical tales of the book, the author's own sensitivity and abilities are what makes this book so unique.
Another book that has caught my attention is SECOND SPRING. It is one of those pick up anytime, to read a few pages, type of book. Dr. Maoshing Ni gives hundreds of natural secrets for women to age healthy and vibrantly. I think I will buy my own copy and use it as a reference book.
A miracle happened yesterday, our first, blue, small egg. It was Autumn, the Americana laying hen that has started our official egg production.
The chickens has been surprising in a few ways. First, I never would have guessed that I would let them roam the yard as much as I do. We had a week of extreme hot weather and they needed to have the cool watered earth to dig into and also often make nesting places for resting. They move around the backyard in a system that shows they are staying out of the heat and bright sun. I also find them nosier that I would have thought. Now I have two families of crows that live in the woods over the fence so I am use to loud birds but these ladies of mine can also be very demanding of attention. The third item is funny but they love to pick at my red toe nails. Now I am on guard about that habit of theirs.
John has a new job because of them, he is on patrol with the shove a couple times a day checking out droppings on our patio. I will not write the monologue that is going on during these times. There are moments that the five of them stand at the back door, looking into the house, waiting to be invited in. That is all we can assume. We find them amusing but really for them to be waiting for that invitation is a bit much! Daisy in the meantime acts as if they are invisible.
Now daily trips to the coop have the added interest of looking for eggs. I will keep you posted on that count.
The book travels from one coast to the other, from culture to culture using the stories of ancestors, seeds and techniques to frame the common plot of all people. Besides the historical tales of the book, the author's own sensitivity and abilities are what makes this book so unique.
Another book that has caught my attention is SECOND SPRING. It is one of those pick up anytime, to read a few pages, type of book. Dr. Maoshing Ni gives hundreds of natural secrets for women to age healthy and vibrantly. I think I will buy my own copy and use it as a reference book.
A miracle happened yesterday, our first, blue, small egg. It was Autumn, the Americana laying hen that has started our official egg production.
The chickens has been surprising in a few ways. First, I never would have guessed that I would let them roam the yard as much as I do. We had a week of extreme hot weather and they needed to have the cool watered earth to dig into and also often make nesting places for resting. They move around the backyard in a system that shows they are staying out of the heat and bright sun. I also find them nosier that I would have thought. Now I have two families of crows that live in the woods over the fence so I am use to loud birds but these ladies of mine can also be very demanding of attention. The third item is funny but they love to pick at my red toe nails. Now I am on guard about that habit of theirs.
John has a new job because of them, he is on patrol with the shove a couple times a day checking out droppings on our patio. I will not write the monologue that is going on during these times. There are moments that the five of them stand at the back door, looking into the house, waiting to be invited in. That is all we can assume. We find them amusing but really for them to be waiting for that invitation is a bit much! Daisy in the meantime acts as if they are invisible.
Now daily trips to the coop have the added interest of looking for eggs. I will keep you posted on that count.
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