Posts Tagged ‘Eglu’

Once again I am renaming the small garden area on the side of the house.

chickens-on-wallkabout-august-09

Back when Winifred, our sweet Belgian Malinois, was still with us, we called it Winnie’s Poop Garden. It was not a place where you wanted to spend your free time.

Last year, desperate for more vegetable growing space, I planted tomatoes and cucumbers there and dubbed it the Other Veggie Garden.

chicks-august-09

This year, the Palazzo di Pollo and the auxiliary chicken coop, the Eglu, now reside in that area. And since I was dividing what seemed like hundreds of hostas this spring, I began transplanting them into the shaded area beside the coops. Naturally, I added more hostas as I fell in love with them during visits to garden centers. I called it the Hosta Garden, but just as easily could have called it the Slug Garden, since the slugs and snails moved in to partake of the expansive hosta buffet—their fav.

Now that the baby chicks are old enough for some supervised walkabout time, I am calling this the Chicken Garden. This is where the big chickens and little chickens are currently engaged in their nightly meet-and-greet leading up to the merge of the two tribes.

Miss P adores the chickens. She would, in fact, love to eat the chickens. But being a smart cat, she understands they are off-limits and has ceased making predatory moves in their direction. It doesn't stop her from looking though.

Miss P adores the chickens. She would, in fact, love to eat the chickens. But being a smart cat, she understands they are off-limits and has ceased making predatory moves in their direction. It doesn't stop her from looking though.

You cannot just toss little chickens in with big chickens because they will be pecked on and could be injured. It is best for chickens to get to know each other a bit, work out their differences in relative safety and begin establishing the new pecking order prior to being thrust under the same roof. Using the Eglu as the temporary home for new chickens allows the chickens to see each other but not co-mingle until they are ready. This also allows us to ensure that the new chickens are disease- and pest-free before introducing them into the flock.

Now that the Polish and Easter egg chickens are about 11 weeks old, it’s just a matter of days before we attempt the big move. Until then, they peck and scratch in the Chicken Garden under close supervision.  After all, we don’t want a repeat of the incident that took Johnny Cash.

P.S.

I SWEAR I am still gardening. I have the photos to prove it. More soon.

P.P.S.

You can see the whole chicken photo album here. Click on the photo for a larger image. There are more photos in the albums from the photos sign at the top of this page.

Robin

For some time we have been a house divided here at Bumblebee.

We had the three laying hens living in one set of accommodations and the younger chickens living in another. They showed interest in each other and occasionally pecked at each other through the wires, but there was no co-mingling of the chickens.


Maxine and Maude on their afternoon walkabout

Since winter is inevitably creeping our way, I started allowing the chickens side-by-side free range time about three weeks ago to prepare them for their lives together.

Predictably, the three hens took one course and the two younger chickens another. There was the occasional skirmish if someone found a particularly tasty bug or worm, but for the most part, the two mini-flocks were separate, but equal.

This week as colder temperatures hit in earnest, I decided to force the integration of the flocks.


Olivia (or Oliver?) has grown out of the ugly stage

After letting all the chickens out for their afternoon walkabout, I closed the Eglu hotel where the younger chickens had been shacked up. Little did they know what was in store for them as they went off to blissfully peck for bugs.

As evening rolled around, the three hens moved back to their Palazzo di Pollo. The two younger chickens began circling the Eglu, making escalating sounds of distress.

“Hey, who closed the door. Let us in!!”

Clearly, they would not just follow the hens into the Palazzo. We had to do a bit of human intervention. Ben and I caught the chickens and shoved them into the Palazzo.

I am very sad to report that my sweet hens did not show their best sides. In fact, they were horrid to the poor chicks. No one was seriously injured, but there were definitely feathers all about the Palazzo when I went to open their door in the morning. The two chicks had taken refuge behind the garbage can where I keep their stash of food and the three hens were strutting about and barking like dogs. It was not their finest moment.


Minnie Ruth (aka Brett Favre) is not a beautiful chicken. But she/he has attitude.

Since no one was hurt—except perhaps for their feelings—I decided to press on with the integration.

Over the next few days, hostilities continued, with the hens asserting their dominance and the two younger chickens cowering in fear. After all, they were out-numbered.

Then one particularly cold evening I left the big door of the chicken house open hoping that all the chickens would find their way inside unassisted because I was busy indoors. To my amazement, when I went to tuck them in, all five of the chickens were huddled together in a warm little ball in the corner of the Palazzo. It seems that hostilities cease in cold weather. Even chickens are pragmatic in their cold weather co-habitation decisions.

I won’t say that all the chickens are now fast friends. But the pecking order has been established and there is now the minimum of hazing of the newcomers.

As for the question of gender in the younger chickens, I can only say that one, if not both, are roosters. Minnie Ruth is the smallest of the birds and exhibits the most animosity to humans. I don’t know what I did to deserve her/his ire. My husband says it’s because I keep calling him Minnie Ruth instead of something manly, such as Brett Favre.

As fall sets in and winter takes its place, we have two nice poultry panel heaters that will keep all the chickens warm and happy. I anxiously await the next developments with the chickens. I am most anxious to learn if I have any more hens—or if I am stuck with a couple of cranky roosters.


Fall at Bumblebee Garden

New on Examiner:

Pallina Vegan Garden Glove Review

Grow Your Own Gourmet Salad in Winter

Get Skinny While Gardening

Reduce Weeding, Save Time

Robin

Right Now at Bumblebee

February 3rd, 2012

If you’re in the neighborhood and just happen to have your paintbrush and paint clothes with you, stop on by. Harry and I are taking the day off from work to start painting the master bedroom. We figure it’ll take until Sunday. Harry does most of the rolling—no small chore with high ceilings—and I do all the tedious detail work. You, of course, can pitch in wherever you like.

We’re painting it a dove grey. So if you see some grey in my hair in the next few days, it’s paint. Got it? The grey is paint.

Robin

February 2nd, 2012

Happy Groundhog Day! What are you doing to celebrate?

We’ll have a special dinner of NOT groundhog. Dinner will be a special pasta (TBD) and some yummy homemade yeast rolls. Then we’ll pull out the photo album of past Groundhog Days and reminisce. We will toast Puxatawny Phil by opening the first bottle of my homemade apfelwein, which I hope is sparkly by now. If it’s any good, you’ll hear more about it.

Cheers!

Robin

February 1st, 2012

Working from a home office is not always what it’s cracked up to be. I have a lousy IT department (me). Interruptions range from barking dogs to crowing roosters. I hear my business phone ring during non-business hours.

But there is a lot good about a 15 step commute. Such as today. It’s cloudy and a bit drizzly, but the temps will climb into the mid 60s for the second day in a row. I will turn off the heat, throw open the windows and give the house—and office—a good airing. Ahhh!

Robin

January 22nd, 2012

It’s cold here with a bit of ice and snow on the ground. The hens hate it.

There was a huge, chicken-y traffic jam at their window/door this morning. As I opened it three hens bolted outside. But they beat a hasty retreat back into the coop while other hens were still trying to get out. There was an impasse and much chicken shoving. There were no injuries—unless you count my sore sides from laughing so hard.

Robin

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