well well well!

The girls are starting to earn their keep beyond being cute and quirky walking composters :)

And as expected, it is the runty little rhode island reds who are first to lay. I came home yesterday and didn't see anything in the coop, but when I closed it up for the night and shined a flashlight inside, here's what I found next to their little slide-up door, just inside. It may have been there awhile, because I certainly didn't hear anyone singing the egg-laying song yesterday evening.

This morning Georgina did a lot of hemming and hawing and lollygagging on whether she wanted to be inside or out, and then I heard her scratching in a nesting box and clucking loudly. The 'bawk bawk bawk bu-GAWK!!' song a hen sings before she squeezes a large object out of her vent. This went on long enough that I ended up closing the lid on the nesting box just to muffle the 'singing'. It wasn't early early, but I don't want anyone kvetching about my hens being noisy. And then, I ended up lowering the side of the coop that lifts up for ventilation, because she was really carrying on in there (of course, I would be, too).

I went inside for some breakfast and more coffee, figuring I'd check on the nesting box after that, and sure enough there was another egg just like this one!

Right now, Geraldine is bawking her head off. She's at the bottom of the pecking order and is likely the first one who laid yesterday.

I'm going out in a few minutes to toss them all a couple handfuls of sunflower seeds :)

(Margaret should be proud it was Geraldine who laid the first egg. I named Geraldine for her long-lived tortoise shell cat who was mean as mustard but had soft and silky fur. Geraldine held a lifetime achievement record for Most Pantyhose Snagged, and spent much of her time hanging out on top of the fridge as Goddess of the Kitchen, waiting to take a swipe at anyone who annoyed her. And I was one of the few to scratch behind her ears and come away unscathed.)

so are they or aren't they?

It drives me a bit nuts that the hens cannot quite make up their minds on whether or not to mature. Sort of :) I'm happy they're still little girls scratching and playing and learning new games and building up their distinctive vocabularies of peeps, honks, murmurs, chirps, clucks and squawks.

I'm noticing their combs and wattles change color like I used to change my hair-color back in the 1980s, but sub the purples and carrots with red and pink. Red, then pink, then red, then pale, then red, then pink and pale and red, then all shades at once. They tend to get worked up and red when I'm feeding treats, now. Especially the little 'woohoo hoo hoo hoo!'-ing rhode island reds who spazz out if I so much as open the door to the run with something in my hand.

The buffs tend to stick with pink and deeper pink, and the 'lorps just look red and angry when they're worked up.

One of the buffs, I think Josefina, thinks that my pants are food, or that pecking at them will mean more treats faster. She almost pecked a button off my pants pocket yesterday, dingbat. Never mind the ass-pecking incident on Saturday where I jumped three feet in the air because she got me squarely on one ass-cheek after being hypnotized by my plaid shorts. Again, dingbat. I picked her up and she squuuaaaaaaawwwwked bitterly for a minute, then trilled a moment and finally shut up because I was stroking her head. She's all feathers. The buffs look like they're easily five pounds, because they look as dense and heavy as a sack of flour, but they're probably a pound and a half, wet.

I need to take more pictures

Oh my gosh these kids are getting big and fat.

The buffs look like feather balls of fluff with beaks and feet. The 'lorps look like hens, and the reds are still the smallest ones but they're total live wires and damn near mug me for the treats when I go into the enclosure with their radish tops and mushroom stems and whatever else has taken a detour from the compost pile.

But they're putting themselves to bed now. I don't have to woman-handle and toss them into the coop at dusk anymore (thank heavens...).

typical kids

I'm in the process of teaching the girls when it it is time for them to go into the coop at night. Boy what a snotty crew! 8pm each evening, I go into the enclosure when the sun is at a specific angle on the horizon, and pick up each one and put her into the coop, shutting the sliding door behind her so she can't dash out and have to be caught again. It's not the most gentle process, but it's necessary. They don't want to go inside, see, and it takes about a week (I hear tell) for them to learn to go in there on their own in the evening.

The two little reds, in particular, go wild. They run laps around me going woowooowoowoowoowoowoowoo, knowing that they're quicker than I am and that it's harder to catch small moving objects than their larger sisters, the australorps. And they start this when I catch the 'lorps, which riles up the buffs so the buffs are doing the same thing, running as quick as their fat plush bodies will allow.

It reminds me of little kids who refuse to go down for a nap, because I can go out to the coop and start the 'nighty-night' routine, where I change the water in the waterer inside, make sure the straw is relatively fresh inside, etc. The girls will be relaxing on their outside perches, eyes closed, and on the bricks around the waterer, eyes closed. Their heads aren't tucked so I know they're not down for the count, but they're slowing down.

Anyway, I go in and tell them it's time for bed and they protest :) *cluck!* NO! I don't want to go to bed! I'm not tired! *cluck!* You can't make me! *cluck!*

The reds act like they had chocolate-frosted sugar bombs which they washed down with espressos. Boing boing boing run run run chirp chirp chirp. And then they go quiet immediately when I finally catch them and stroke their backs before putting them in for the night. Silly.

Last night was no exception. One of the little reds (always the last inside) jumped up on the perch next to the coop door and looked at me, and the door, and me, and the door. Night before last, she jumped onto the ramp and looked at the door, which I opened, and then she tried to make a break for it and I had to grab and shove her inside. Last night I had to grab her from the perch and then put her inside. She knows her sisters are inside and she's outside, and she should probably be inside, too. But she's not quite making the connection that she could go in herself rather than be put there.

knackered, but with pics

I had to call in sick this morning. Which is to say, I slept through part of the alarm, sent a text message at 4:30am explaining I was doing poorly, and then I went back to sleep and woke up at noon. That's baaaad, even for me.

It's very simple. I did too much this weekend, after doing too much during the week after work. And then it was hot as the devil's buttcrack yesterday, which didn't help. So, after digging out and dumping into a pile something like 50 cubic feet of clay (wet clay, damp clay, semi-solid clay), I dumped in a mere 18 cubic feet of planting mix and top soil. Anyone ever tried making dishes with side yard clay? I might have to do that and see if I can fire the things in the wood stove this winter. Either that or I'm making mud bricks with the straw I sweep out of the coop...

I got this fool idea of finally finishing the side yard where I'm planting the hops rhizomes. As you can see, these babies are more than ready to go into the ground after spending a couple weeks bagged up and in the vegetable drawer of the fridge.

And then here are some general veggie pics.

coop pics, sorry about the delay

It's not immediately visible, but there's netting on top of the enclosure, just in case anyone decides to trying any flying stuff and visit neighbors. And, I've since removed the 2x4 scraps and egg carton material from right below the plastic roof, and replaced that with mesh. I had to block up the holes because of local predators initially.
This whole side lifts up on hinges and attaches with chains to hooks up near the roofing material, making it a snap to rake out the overly-poopy straw and litter (we've since knocked it off w/ the corn cob litter, because the girls refuse to accept that it is not food...). And it's big enough for me to crawl in there and fix things or scrap surfaces, etc. One of the smartest things I did, although it goes against what one is supposed to do, is I lined the bottom with contact paper. I was afraid of rotting out the plywood. I'm reading about 'deep litter', and can see why people do it, but I am not sure it's for me. I need to read more before I rip up the contact paper on the floor.

On the right are the nesting boxes. There's three 'nests' in there, divided with plywood scraps, and packed full of straw. Yep, that's a lock. We have some boooooored kids in this neighborhood. Last thing I need is someone hopping the back fence and stealing eggs, or worse, my girls. This picture was taken when the enclosure was being built.

And then here's another pic from the front while the enclosure was being built. That's a polycarbonate window and the girls look out it when they're roosting inside. I'm getting ready to actually mount some wire on the outside, and then install the window on the inside, but it's going to be on hinges and have a rubber seal on it, for flipping down when the temperature drops. There's a window on the back of the structure, too. Hopefully, I'll get the coop painted this week. Red.

they're growing so quickly