Nina, Weak-Knees, Simone Chicken

Nina Simone Chicken at two and a half weeks

My tiny little Peepers were gone!  I was away only half an hour, and upon my return the search for the two baby chicks was fruitless.  About an hour later, Nina came peeping, peeping, peeping along the path next to our property.  Wherever she had been, she had found her way home, alone.

Nina as a gawky teenager nearly ready to lay

Perhaps she could be called Nina-Nine-Lives.  At least three times in her two and three quarter years she has looked very ill and still for a hen.  Garlic water brought her around in less than a day, and she had another go at pecking and scratching and laying.







But now being vigilant is part of the Things I get to do today as I keep a chicken's eye on her movements and behavior.  She seems weak in the knees.  Whole days will go by with Nina able to stand and walk a bit, but then she'll immediately settle to the ground to rest.  Then a day later she is up on her feet, eager to hunt and peck the hen yard.

Nine on the right, settled to the ground instead of foraging for
the usual morning treats

These odd times seem more frequent lately.  Each recovery is a bit less sure and not as strong.  We will see how it all plays out in the hen world.  I've told all the hens that they get to work out their own departure from this physical body.  I will not be intervening, but will provide good food, warm water and cozy shelter.  The rest is for them to figure out.
 I'll keep you posted.

Grand Re-Opening

Grand Re-Opening of Dusty Springs

A little dust goes a long ways.  Hens, however, can handle a lot of dust.  Fall, with the rain and the wind, has none to be found.  So there is the dilemma.  Where does a hen find her dust?  A hen must dust.

Supplies: scraps from other projects

My girls had a resort hotel for their dust bin.  The space was really the first story of a chicken tractor that since has found itself moved to a friend's house and is fully occupied with more hens.  My flock has been short a dust bath house for a couple of months.  That's now a situation looking for a solution.

Bath house frame: as big as the
longest boards available

Checking it out!

Looks like it's acceptable.  Nora (on the right) has an itch
that won't wait.

 Find that solution and build a dust bin are Things I get to do today.

Afternoon sun makes blissful dusting.  Violet demonstrates.

Cool Down for the Hot Chicks

Coolin' it

90 degrees is too much.  Even with shade the hens are cooking in their downy coats.  It must feel like a perpetual hot flash, except that you can't peel off your clothes if you're a chicken. Gotta just sit there and pant.



On days like this one Things I get to do today include keeping the girls moderately comfortable. There's a  fan clipped it to the wall along side their roost for a night breeze. But during the middle of the heat, we provide refreshment in the shade for their comfort and pleasure. Several times a day we put ice cubes in their pen water bowl.  At the sound of the cubes splashing,  the girls come running and dip their hot beaks into water next to the ice cubes, drinking until they probably get brain freeze.  Hot chicks can be cool!

Hedge Warrior

I thought I'd have to go it alone.  The job had to be done.  Rats could live under the debris, so the dead twigs, branches, and leaf litter had to be removed from the ground for a length of the "hedge."  One yard-debris can at a time, once a week, over a period of a month or so and the task would be finished.

Nina, the brave spider hunter/gatherer and my coworker on a tough job

The Giant Sequoia growing in the hen yard has gradually extended its reach, covering a portion of the Arbor Vitae hedge that marks the back line of our city lot.  Apparently the hedge prefers sun because the Sequoia-shaded side of the hedge died.  When the brown foliage and branches were removed, they were dumped conveniently into a pile at the base of the hedge trunks.  And so the mess was created.  A truism:  the easy way is the hard way.  With rats always being in season where there are chickens, and with Hobo spiders starting their mating march, now would be the best time to correct the "easy" and careless haven for pests we had created several years before.  So it is that the sweatiest of Things I get to do today is drag the yard debris bin to the back of our property and fill it up.

Armed with gloves, lopers and a watchful eye for little things that scurry about and bite, I started to work.  Moments later, Nina Simone Hen hustled over, bravely scratching about and eating everything crawling about that had lived under the debris. My hero: this courageous, hungry warrior hen!

She's a Hottie Now!

Second day of the rest of her life

She was a Shrinking Violet a month ago.  Now really one of the flock, though still at the bottom according to Lena Horn Hen and Nina Simone Chicken, she blends in and moves with the rest of the girls rather easily .

A week later

But something is very different about Violet from when she first arrived.  Things I get to do today will be to check her out . My memory serves me better than the photos can show since hens are always on the move and therefore usually out of focus in their portraits.  This I recall well.  Violet's comb was medium pink when she arrived.  It was not particularly large either.

Still pinkish in the comb

This afternoon during one of those many times each day when I find myself just hanging out with the girls to enjoy their company and listen to them quietly pass hen-pen gossip, it became quite clear.  Violet's been dipping into the makeup or she's a natural-born beauty slow to bloom.

Big and Red!  Wouldn't red toenails be drop-dead gorgeous on her?

She's a hot one!

Looks Like She's In

They'll never tell her their most private secrets.  She won't be asked to chant "Say, Say O Playmate" with the rest of the girls.  Lena Horne Hen still gives her an occasional bit of extra exercise escaping a sharply aimed beak fueled by an old grudge.  But somehow in the great chicken social hierarchy, Violet has slid between the bars of exclusion.

The very next of Things I get to do today is email this picture  to her former owner to let her know that for all practical purposes, Ms. Violet is in.

Violet in the foreground, accepted as much as she probably ever will be.

Are They Spoiled Yet?

Monday's the day.  One o'clock is the time.  My local market prepares for my Hens (perhaps it should be all capital letters) a huge box of greens.  The market's lovely organic lettuces get tidied up and replenished everyday, and by one o'clock the trimmings and scraps are boxed and ready for me to pick up.  We (my hens) are so fortunate!

Finished bouquet for the chicken table
 that won't tip over.

There was a bit of magic in the Things I get to do today because an idea danced right out that hadn't shown itself before--a way to keep the lettuce leaves clean, fresh and inviting all day for the girls.

Quart plastic container on scrap
of shelving

Couple of short screws hold "vase"
to its "table"

Our usual routine is for me to toss out several handfuls of lettuces or greens. The chickens all come running, peck a bit or not, walk all over the treat and maybe wander off to something else in a few minutes.  By the time they come back, the greens are wilted.

The girls chow down on the "arrangement."

The magic looked much like a bouquet of lettuces.  Water in the bottom of the "vase" will keep it fresh until the top is pecked off. Not spoiled yet!

Field of Dreams

Scratch, scratch, a flyin'

Chickens dream of fat, round grubs.  At least that's my guess.  If they dreamt of scratching the way dogs dream of chasing, their paws twitching, nose snuffing, and little "whiffle, whiffles" telling us of their progress, it would be difficult for the hens to stay on the roost.  So I think they dream of worms, long, stretchy ones and fat, fat short ones and grubs that are always short and fat.

Making chicken dreams

Things I get to do today included removing grass, weeds and roots from a huge berm area in the yard.  The by-product was 5 contractor-size wheelbarrows of debris that went straight to the hen pen.  It was spread out to cover the hard-pack of mud set up by the drier weather.  Hens can't scratch mud turned to brick. But this debris, filling with grubs and worms and seeds and green grass was heaven.  I know it made rich dreams.

How Knitting Gets Done

The girls sent out the alarm.  Four hens transfixed, all facing the same direction, cackling in a nervous undertone made me stop mid-chores to look around.  A plump rat lay creamy-bellied up a yard or so away from the chickens.  In broad daylight rats do not sleep in the open on their backs. Dead was what it was. So I scooped the rat into my pail--for less than a second!  With its last ounce of life, it shot back out. A big shovel in hand to scoop up the rat showed how serious I was as I pitched the thing over the hedge.*

Progress in silver sparkles

Then I noticed that what felt like a scratch from the rapid bucket exit was bleeding--a bite--by a sick rat.     My last tetanus shot was 1997. The emergency waiting room is a great place to knit. Got in three rows waiting for the nurse. Knit another four or five while waiting for the doctor. The admissions person allowed me to knit the whole time we were filling in the blanks for the hospital records. I put the knitting away for my drive home. There were several other fun items in my plans for Things I get to do today that were set aside while I had the pleasure of watching this lovely scarf grow.  Sometimes that is just how the knitting gets done.

*The critter was retrieved and bagged for possible inspection by our county vector control office.

Where, Oh Where Has My Black Hen Gone?

Before 

They've come out by fistfuls.  Big, black, handsome Nina Simone Hen has lost her feathers.

A small token of the feathers
Nina has shed in the last two days.

That a hen would molt at this time of year is not a newsworthy item, facts be known. For some reason I thought Nina was immune.  When the other hens stopped laying, she did her best to keep up with an egg every other day or so.

Bare wing flesh showing today.

Then the bag of layer pellets ran out. The replacement sack seemed different, and I blamed the new feed saying it wasn't high enough in protein, saying maybe it was pullet feed instead of layer feed, saying I'll take this stuff back and get the real thing. My eyeballs bulged as I hefted the 50 pound bag out of the metal can (Things I get to do today) to inspect the tag:  Layer pellets.  Well, fine. And now the fistfuls of feathers.  It isn't the feed.  My big, shiny black hen is molting just like the rest.


Well, hurry up and get it over with.  Snow is flying.  You'll need your new coat soon.  I'll keep the heat lamp on to tide you over.

Dirty Old Hens

The best Things I get to do today usually involve my chickens. 

 A friend, new to her own flock, called recently to see if I put a pan of water out for my hens to hop into and flap around like birdies do in a birdbath.

It's been awhile since I've thought of the phrase "madder than a wet hen," but that certainly sums up what these gals think of taking a dip to cool off or get clean. 

 Just give me a well-scratched divot in the shade, and I'll show you a good bath was had by all.  

You might want to dust off your computer screen after viewing this blog.  Take a swipe at your keyboard, too, for good measure.

Hot Hen Blues

Lena Horne Hen singing
"I'm so hot, and I'm dry on love."

My hens are pro blues singers.  Hot days bring out all their best.  Bra-h-a-a-a-a--a--a---a---a--a.  Talk about a sad and plaintive tale!  Oh, my!  I can't make out the words quite yet, but the tone of voice tells all.  "Ain't no man around.  I'm so hot, and I'm dry on love.  When will this love drought end?  I'm so hot, even when the sun is down.  Ain't no man around."

The girls are hot, probably not hot for a rooster, but with the temps at 100, they are hot.  Even on the perch at night, they're all splayed out, begging for a little cool under their wings.  They probably dream of running naked.  Shorts and tank tops for the humans; down coats for the chickens--not fair.

Did you ever?

OK to heat the outdoors

On such days Things I get to do today let me cook outside to preserve the bliss of our air conditioning.  The rice cooker plugs in and stays outside till the contents are cooked and cooled.  While assembling the rice, water and seasoning, I came across these instructions.  Dang!  It really is hot if I'm supposed to keep the bullion cubes cool after opening a cardboard box!  Bet there's a blues line for that one, too.

There Comes a Time

The hen house needs cleaning.  Eventually, there comes a time.  It isn't the most favored of Things I get to do today, but today's the day.  It's extra warm out, so all the water used in the cleaning will run off and dry up before the girls head for bed at dark.

Nina in the fresh and sparkly mezzanine nest box

The nest boxes will have all the dried egg (from accidents and scrub jay intrusion) washed out,  dust and debris hosed off the tops, and, when they are moisture free again, they'll be filled with fresh, crisp, fragrant straw.

Katy says it passes the "Hens' Housing" inspection

Perches will be scrubbed with bleach water and dusted lightly for mites.  The mezzanine will be hosed and brushed till clean.

Clean straw, ankle deep on a chicken

 Fresh sand goes on the floor before clean straw.

The only thing left to clean up is me.  Toss me in the shower, please!  There comes a time. . . .

Chicken Beetles

They got my potatoes!  Beetles have been eating great gobs of the leaves leaving only the spine and the stalk. They made a swath two-plants wide through the middle of the potato patch.  No other vines were affected.  The selectiveness puzzled me.

Damage from Chicken Beetles

Being observant is always one of the Things I get to do today.  So I observed. This "infestation" occurred suddenly after allowing the chickens to roam about in part of their "gated community" where the berry vines and the potatoes flourish. When the potatoes vines were small and tender, no chickens were allowed.  I did reason that once the plants were twice as tall as the shortest chicken, the vines would be safe.

Who?  Me?

Closer observation:  1) open gate to berries and potatoes, 2) chickens run in to browse, 3) hens wander, scratch and peck about in a poultry fashion, 4) Katy Perry Chicken goes straight to the center of the spindly potatoes, 5) Katy Perry Chicken plucks vigorously at the naked vines, 6) potatoes vines must not be poisonous to chickens, 7) Chicken "beetles" are harmful to potatoes.

Conclusion:  Katy Perry Chicken is not allowed visiting privileges in that special corner until I've protected the plants from Chicken Beetles.

"Dusty Springs" Up and Running

They knew it was finally ready.  As if on cue the girls lined up and hopped in.   These chicks have already spent hours/days flup-flupping in the cool earth of the vacant chicken tractor.
Confirming that the Dusty Springs Bath House is now officially in operation is checked off the Things I get to do today.

"Nice place, Katy.  Shall we take a roll?"

About a month ago you all gave me suggestions for a name, something to clearly define the space, the use and the dignity of this establishment.  I took some time today to help the girls vote on the name and then get it up on the wall.

Katy darting to avoid the paparazzi.

As I stand, camera in hand, in front of the Dusty Springs, Katy Perry Chicken, Nina Simone Chicken, and Nora Jones Hen (the golden girls followed from a distance), hiked right over to check out the ambiance of the newly named luxury chicken accommodations.

Choral Qualities

Diva of the early morning--may I introduce Nora Jones Chicken!

Today's the day for singing. As these words are finding the page, my girls have started into yet another chorus.  The first piece had two stanzas beginning at 6:34, and after a 15 minute intermission, ending at around 6:55 AM.  I believe Nora (Jones/Chicken) was the soloist.

The second number picked up its rhythm about 9:14 with Miss Katy Perry Chicken taking the lead. Her double hiccough-with-a-glitch syncopation is hard to miss.  The other hens added an occasional extra beat to the confused song cycle.




And now as the Things I get to do today move into full swing, Nina Simone Hen has grabbed the mic.  Her heart-felt lines are delivered from her soul, and when she's done, she's done.  It's quiet.

Chicken Turnovers

Part way through the Things I get to do today, I'm taking a break to cook up a little fun.

Recipe for lively spring chicken dish:

• Start with 5 whole chickens, still live and feathered.   Breed and temperament do not matter.
• Place them gently in 1 spacious hen yard.
• Sprinkle them with average hen intelligence. 
• Add 1 spring storm, being careful to not wet the chickens excessively.
• Turn chickens away from each strong gust of wind
• Add element of surprise with especially strong gusts
• Watch carefully as hens lose balance and tumble over in the wind
• Add 1 generous scoop of good-hearted laughter
• Carefully gather befuddled hens to sheltered, dry space.
• Warm slightly if needed
• Enjoy!

Bath House

Every hen needs a bath house.  In the rainy season the bath house is protected and dry, a place to get out of the coop and out of the weather all at the same time.  And just about any problem can be solved with a good bath--all of us girls know that.  For the chickens, that's a dust bath we're talking about here.

One day, a month ago, "build a bath house" was blinking in neon on the list of Things I get to do today.  It could not wait.  But creative inspiration was not sparking very high that week on the subject of hen resort accommodations.  I just couldn't see it.

Turns out that the creativity and effort had already been expended nearly three years earlier when I built a chicken coop/tractor for my first hens.  This lovely structure has been empty of partying poultry for a good two years with the second story now serving as storage space for various chicken related paraphernalia.

Upstairs/Downstairs
Storage/Spa

With a fair bit of shifting, juggling, hefting, digging, lifting and adjusting, the Ladies of Leisure (and major egg production) have a place to lounge in their off hours, on cold, rainy days and on hot, sunny days and pretty much every day in between.

Settling in for well-deserved rest

Lady of Leisure--Lena Horne Hen

Tidying up before heading out

This deluxe resort lacks only a good name.   While the girls are excellent at laying eggs, skilled at flup-fluping in the dust, and dynamite bug eaters, they aren't worth squat at coming up with a name for their bath house.  But they think they could select their favorite from your suggestions.  We're keeping the lines open. . .

Winner will be announced in a future posting along with a photo of the coop and its new sign.

Literary Chickens

Lying down on the job (not laying)

I think the hens use this hot weather as excuse.  They're supposed to scratching and laying eggs and eat bugs.  That's just what they always do.  But today--no!  Maybe they sneaked off behind the bathhouse to read Shakespeare. Finding where they hide the book will be first of the Things I get to do today.




There was fussing and cackling and clucking.   We thought all the gals must have laid their eggs at once. And then all was quite still.  Only one egg from five hens and hardly enough scratching in the whole day to settle a mild itch amongst the whole flock.  Indeed, it was "much ado about nothing."