Jen's Happy Hen Hutch

Nothing philosophical or thought-provoking today, just a little update of what's been going on in my chicken coop. (Someone keeps pointing out that my chicken blog hasn't been much about chickens lately. Who says that it has to be about chickens?!?!? It's my blog, and I'll write about what I want to write about. So there!)

On Saturday, the man of my dreams took my roosters to IFA to give them back. They were getting to "frisky" with the hens. (I was nervous to crack open the eggs. It would break my heart to crack open an egg and find a chicken embryo inside.) They were also a little loud, but I loved the sound of them. It's awfully quiet in my hen house now. My little warrior and my silly girl went with the man of my dreams to drop them off. Imagine my surprise when my little warrior came running in the house and said, "We got to keep Beauty!" when they returned home.

I have to take partial responsibility for Beauty's coming back home, although I'd love to lay all the blame at my man's feet. After they'd gone, I started second guessing myself. I called the man of my dreams and told him to ask someone there if they thought Beauty was a rooster or a hen. We went back and forth about what to do with Beauty, but before I hung up the phone I said, "Leave Beauty there. I'm fairly sure that he's a rooster. Don't bring him back home with you." That planted enough doubt in the man of my dreams' mind and Beauty came back home.

I know, you're wondering, dear reader, how can you be unsure of the gender of this chicken. Let me explain. Beauty is VERY small compared to the rest of the chickens. He doesn't crow -- he screeches. (Is there a screech chicken, similar to the screech owl?) He doesn't screech loudly, though. It's just annoying, like someone else's crying baby. (Not that all crying babies are annoying -- don't get offended.) He never chases the hens or tries to pin them down like the other roosters did. That could be because the hens are all two to three times bigger than he is and he is intimidated by all those large women. (Poor Beauty! Even the girls are bigger than he is.) Of course, being given a name like Beauty probably didn't help his manly ego much either. (All the roosters had girly names. Once they started to display rooster tendencies, I let the kids call them whatever they wanted because I had given them all girl names. Miss Biddy got cut short to Biddy because we were already used to it. Sugar is a name my silly girl picked because the chicken was white like sugar. Rob was short for Robin because my little warrior thought he had the same coloring as a robin. And poor Beauty's name just stuck.) If chickens could be gay, I'd guess that Beauty definitely was.

On Saturday morning, I finally gave in and we ate fried eggs from our chickens. They were yummy, bite-sized, but yummy. The man of my dreams says they better taste heavenly because these are the most expensive eggs that we will ever eat. I told him it's not about the eggs, it's about me having my farm, and could we please get a cow? (He said no. Dang it!)

Before Saturday I was getting about one egg each day. Apparently eating the eggs is a signal for the chickens because ever since then I've gotten three each day. I know that Alice and Bertie are each laying everyday. Alice's and Bertie's eggs are the size of small eggs at the supermarket. Bertie's are a deep reddish-brown color. Alice's are that deep reddish-brown with white speckles or a white film on them. Lucy & Ethel's eggs are tiny. They are off-white, and they are soooooo cute! Only one of them is laying daily. I think the one who is laying is Lucy. We have only gotten a few eggs that weren't laid in a nesting box (2 on the floor and 1 outside.) I think those were Ethel's eggs. Ethel is doesn't go up into the nesting boxes much until night time. Poor little Ethel is mostly blind. I know this because her pupils are white and where the brown/orange/yellow color is in the other chickens' eyes, Ethel's are black. She's a sweet little chicken and very gentle. The kids like her because she is easy to catch and hold. She doesn't like to go outside very often unless it sounds like everyone else is getting a treat. She's not good at catching bugs like the other girls. When she gets out of the nesting boxes in the morning, she flies full-force at the window and then crashes to the ground. If I am the one who lets them out into the yard in the morning, I try to help her down so she doesn't have to crash. (It was funny the first time it happened. Now it just makes me sad for her. Although some uncaring people around here still find it amusing.)

My hens always run to greet me now. They always hope I will have a treat for them. They really like the grapes off of our grape vines, or old cucumbers that the slugs started eating in the garden. Last night we had some left-over corn on the cob which they loved once they realized they needed to peck at it and not hide from it.

Here are some pictures of the chickens and their eggs.