November 12th, 2009
There is nothing exotic about Marilyn or Madelyn.
The poor birds do their share of work by pushing out a lovely brown egg a day each. And yet do visitors stop to exclaim “My what a beautiful chicken!” like they do with the Polish hens? Does anyone admire their graceful movements, as with the white leghorns and their fashion runway walk? Does anyone listen for their beautiful voices, as with T. Boone Chickens?
They aren’t even athletic. While the other chickens can jump to snatch a treat from their bell toy in the outside run, the black hens can only stand underneath and look longingly at the lettuce. People laugh at their pitiful attempts to hop off the ground. The black chickens just can’t jump.
To add insult to injury, we can’t even tell them apart. That’s right. They look just alike. We use the names Madelyn and Marilyn interchangeably between the two of them.
But they’re lovely hens, I think. I can’t tell you which is which. But I still find them quite lovely.
Posted In: Chickens
November 7th, 2009
I often ramble on about how my chickens are entertaining, how they make me laugh, how they have such silly and sweet personalities. But I don’t often talk about one of the most rewarding parts of bringing chickens into my life. Eggs!
The four Polish and two Easter egg chickens are not yet laying, although they are mature enough. I suspect that the fact that they’re not laying and that the weather has turned cold means they have decided to extend their responsibility-free youth until spring, when they should take up their mature hen duties like the rest of the birds.
My senior hens—Myrtle, Maude, Marilyn, Madelyn, Harriet and Hillary—each push out an egg a day. When they were younger I would often hear a noisy ruckus in the chicken coop, an escalating “Bwak, BWAK, BWAK!!!” as one of the hens neared the end of her apparently painful chore. Frequently, T. Boone Chickens, our lone rooster, would stand next to the hen in distress and honk along loudly, “HONK, HONK, HONK!” Big helpful male.
Now, the hens have become accustomed to their daily efforts and hunker down silently in the nest boxes. Often I’ll peek in during the morning. (They all do their laying before noon each day.) There are usually a couple of hens sitting in side-by-side nest boxes, shoulders up by their ears with meditative looks on their faces and glassy eyes. I like to think their little chicken minds have learned to go somewhere happy while their bodies do what nature commands. Frolicking in fields of earthworms? Rolling around in my lettuce patch?
Hens need about 14 hours a day of daylight or their egg production drops or stops altogether. My hens continue their daily chores year-round thanks to a light on a timer in their palatial chicken coop. Honestly, I feel a little guilty about manipulating them into laying when nature’s cycle is telling them to stop laying and other people’s hens are on vacation.
And, as you can see, those eggs add up pretty quickly.
I may adjust the light timer to give the girls a little extra sleep. If egg production falls, well, I just won’t be giving away as many eggs. The girls deserve their rest too, I suppose.
Posted In: Chickens
Tags: chicken care, eggs, hens