Tag Archives: training

Training coop subdivision

Guinea update:  they did all survive the night, and again skipped dinner (thus not giving me the opportunity to attempt to trap them again) and went to roost where they did night before last, which they also survived.  So I’m just moving the GH as fast as I can to put them in it.

It will still take awhile.  I’m interested to see whether it will take longer to take it down and then put it up again than it did for me to put it up in the first place.  If it were a house, then it’s always faster to just build a new one.  I’m thinking the GH could be faster to move than it was to build new, but we shall see.  I’m also weaker and less healthy than I was the first time.

I was in there half the day ripping it out, which meant a party of epic magnitude for the young chickens that live in there, the kegger that will not be forgot.

They were always underfoot, interested in the volume of green mass I was dropping to the ground, and the climbing and rummaging and scratching was such as had never been seen before.  So good the room was mostly silent, with all the chicks individually occupied throughout.  They know every inch of the GH, it is their whole world, so change must be very interesting to them.

Come dusk, I was still working, so I got to see the goings in.   I’ve been stuffing the chicks in the coop every night, and although there’s plenty of room, they squabble all night.  What the?

So I tried something new.  I tacked up cardboard, dividing the coop into apartment A and B, and I put a hen in each one.  One (mud head) is legitimately broody, I can’t tell if the other one is for real, but she’s acting as if.

Apartment A
Apartment B (true broody)

As it got dark, the Chanticleer chicks went to bed first, and they all came along one at a time, long-necking and then hopping up in with Mom.

Is that Mom in there?

Or two at a time.

Is it A or B?

This one chose wrong. And tentatively settled in.

And then, RRTROWWR!  She came bursting out, having been forcibly ejected by the resident hen.  So she‘s been the nighttime rabblerouser; she doesn’t like the chicks of another colour.

Let me try this again.  Is it door #2?
Don’t make the same mistake I did.

The Chanticleers eventually all loaded in, to the right apartment.It’s very cozy in there.  I don’t know how they do it.

That left the Silkies out, who much later started to think about bed, and went trouping around, looking like they might consider the possibility that they might sleep somewhere other than a pile in the corner.

I spent some time trying to marshal them towards the coop, and grabbed a couple and tossed them into Apt A, but they kept missing it, and going around it, then going under it, and a few hopped in on their own, yay!  Definite progress.

But I could’ve almost sworn I saw a white one dart into Apt B, which is already suffering overcrowding.  I groped around but couldn’t find her, until I took a picture.Aha!  Lower right, the couchsurfer.

I have some confidence that they will all go to bed tomorrow, or definitely the next night.  Unless the hens decide to switch apartments.

Coop training II

The answer (to how many went in the coop on their own tonight):

One.

Mom.  She probably remembers well living in a wooden box, and is right at home. 

Chick roundup night two went better, the last Silkie chick (different one) left running around found its own way in quite rapidly.

All the Chanticleers were piled in the cardboard broody box with “their” mom, who’s trying to work on the next batch.  They aren’t so sure about this coop business.

 

 

Coop training.

The skycoop has been reinvented as a starter coop.  Since a guinea got snatched off of it  (owl), the guineas have abandoned it like it was the center of a sexting scandal.  So I took the legs off and we put it in the emptying greenhouse, to stuff the chicks into.  They need to start sleeping in a coop, to make them portable.

And to keep them safe.  Sleeping on the ground isn’t good for chickens, and the greenhouse is not totally secure.

They’re kind of looking grown up.  Still miniature though. After dark, I went chick snatching.  The first eleven chicks took about three minutes to grab, one or two at a time, and pop into the coop, where they instantly went silent.  Oh, dark and cozy.  Oh, everyone’s in here. 

Some were feisty, some were mild.  This is the first time I’ve ever handled any of them.

The twelfth chick took about 20 minutes.  After everyone else mysteriously vanished, he/she ran around distressed, chirping, unwilling to settle down.  It took forever.  Finally she figured out where everyone else was, tried to crawl under the coop, and I got her in.  Taking wagers on how many go in the coop on their own tomorrow night.

I lifted the box off the broody hen, to check on her, and discovered:henS.  What’s going on here?!  They’re competing to sit on the eggs.  This broody hen gets no peace.  Interlopers, chicks piling in the box to sit on her…

Love what you’ve done with the place…

The pigs have arranged the hay bale to their specifications, and I couldn’t have done better myself.  They packed hay into the drafty edges and made two sausage slots, which they use in two ways:Day time nap formation – tail to tail L shape.And nighttime pigs in parallel.

Note the pet rock in the first picture.  It’s been placed on top of the arranged hay.  One of these pigs likes to keep toys in the pig house.  A beet, and a turnip, has previously been the toy of choice.  I’m not going to eat this turnip, but I’ll bring it into my house. 

Pigs.

By Golly, they like it!

Ever since I constructed elaborate toad mansions under my parents’ back deck for the itinerant toads of Ontario as a child, there is little that pleases me more than an animal inspecting something I made for them, deciding This is alright, and using it!  Sometimes there would be a toad using the pool, or the planter pot “cave”.  Yessss.

One night!  And the guineas have decided they live on their coop!  I’m so pleased.  All of them, lined up on the rim.  It’s probably only because it’s about 2 inches higher than the header of the door (by design), but I’ll take it.  On vs in – close enough.  We’ll work up to “in”.

All of them went up there on their own.  They started out on the roof, but after dark, there they were.

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They’re all there.  Facing out.

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Woman seeks saddle for long-term compatibility

In preparation for potentially  bike touring Iceland, I’ve been riding regularly, trying to get my equipment all dialed in to fit my body and fit my needs.

I’ve never had any piece of gear be so finicky and challenging to refine. Funny thing, I don’t remember ever having any issues with the saddle of my road bike in my teens, which I did decent distances on, and certainly discomfort never crossed my mind on my BMX in my early 20s, which I rode quite seriously for hours a day.  However, recently exploring a new style of using a bicycle, for loaded, day after day long distances, has been an arduous hit and miss experience of seeking correct gear, especially the saddle.

The three places a bicycle interacts with you (hands, feet, and butt), are crucial comfort points.  If the weight distribution to your handlebars isn’t right or the right height, then one can get major aching and cramping in the shoulders and neck, like I do, which can also rapidly cause tension headaches.  The wrong shoes, or pedals, or pedal-to-seat ratios and alignment, can cause numb toes, sore feet, and all kinds of knee trouble.  Most serious of all, IMO, is the seat interface.  An uncomfortable saddle is just a recipe for several kinds of hell. Continue reading Woman seeks saddle for long-term compatibility