Ursa’s got four little chicks (living). Two were already dead. The future is not bright for chicks hatched at the beginning of winter. But I’ll do my best to help her.
One piece of cardboard and she’s got a student apartment now. That’ll be enough space for a few days, as they’ll spend most of their time under her.
I moved her back from the kitchen so the chicks would tumble out so I could get some pictures.
Turns out the chicks were super into some more food.
The other four crazy broody hens (down from six crazies – turns out it IS contagious) are busy playing egg burgle bingo, trying to steal eggs from each other. We’ll see if any of them also successfully hatch.
I got some more work done in the greenhouse. Specifically, I untied all the strings crossing the top third, that suspend tomatoes in the summer.
You can just see the strings in this pic. So I’m taking them down and crochet looping them up to decommission them until next year. The guineas will be able to fly around in the upper third of the GH again.
This festooning makes sense to me.
Then the irrigation came out, and the pool went in, and coops were shifted – oh my! When HW was yanking out the irrigation tape, he exposed a nestful of a family of shrews or voles that ran scurrying, and the chickens leapt into the air and screamed like little girls! Which made the whole room erupt, and they talked about it for quite a while.
The Silkies noticed immediately that their dust bath was refilled:) by immediately I mean seconds. About ten.
Cleopatra wants in there SO bad. So bad that I was able to catch her, the notorious escape artist, and take her jacket off- she’s all regrown.
Everyone wants into that dust bath. So much so that there was an invasion from outside:
A half dozen chickens that don’t belong hopped into Silkieland to use their fridge-drawer baths (how rude), all the while ignoring that they have a new grand bath of their own:
There was so much upheaval – wood chips and hay and coop movement and the addition of baths and overturning of turf, that the roosters were bleating about “New things! New things!” for about 20 minutes straight. Other than that it was very, very quiet. All must be investigated.
This little adventure chicken got in on the action when I went to hang some long poles for perches at the opposite end of the GH from where the guineas now roost. First, I rested it on the coop.
Whitey got aboard. More impressively, stayed on and rode the pole as I tied up the opposite end at 6’ish, then came to the coop, raised that end and tied that up.
What are you gonna do now, little bird?
That should keep them entertained for a couple days.
There was an unexpected veil of snow settled on everything yesterday (I wasn’t expecting it).
It was warm, too, and that kind of snow that falls in huge, feathery flakes gets heavy. Awful to drive in. It’s very hard on my bird protection
Surprise, no birds are outside! I have to untether the netting when it snows like this and drop it down inside the fence. I’ve learned to tie quick release knots, so it’s not much slower than walking around the garden. Then I hoist it back up when it melts.
A very small rabbit has been passing the deck. Recently; the snow is already filling its tracks. That’s nice. There’s one large rabbit around, but it’s nice to know there’s a new generation.
The blue jays have resorted to the suet. I can tell they don’t like it that it spins around when they get on. The birds have a bit of a harder time in the “deep” (deep for them) snow. The grosbeaks are still here in huge numbers, in the morning.
Ok, it’s officially December now. It’s not time to be broody. But I’ve been having a battle of wills with four broody hens, the most determined of which is Ursa Minor, and the peckiest is Fiesty, predictably.
Then I open the coop to this. This. And this.Not ok!
That’s seven. Seven. Seven broody, growly feather pancakes sitting on eggs. I didn’t have seven broody at once all summer. This is bad. Maybe it’s contagious.
They win. They are sitting on eggs, and since they’re not going to give up, they can keep them. Likely, chicks will die right and left, because it’s not the right time or place to reproduce right now!
Jeez. I can’t put them in nurseries in this weather. It’s super cozy in the coop full of fur chickens all night, but if I isolated the broodies the way I normally do, for the safety of the chicks, the hens would be at risk of exposure. They can die trying to heat their eggs in cold temperature. They’re going to hatch in the coop, and then the moms will go right down the ramp for a meal and a dirt bath, and the chicks will die unattended. That won’t be fun. Only the bright, lucky or strong will survive. (Ursa says: If you’d just let me keep the first eggs, they’d be hatched by now!)
I’ve got quite a number of eggs from them from taking them away, but I can’t sell them, because someone might have started baking them. Therefore, I resigned to the will of the broodies, and went through and carefully marked every single egg, and now if I go through twice daily and pull out the unmarked eggs, then I can get the freshly laid ones out. What a bunch.This little guy just hopped up to watch the proceedings.
Now all the hens are on edge when I lift the lid, because they know I’m going to lift them up and rummage through their eggs, and they hate that. They all bristle and growl, and most peck, and then they indignantly readjust their eggs after I’ve been through. Grumble grumble.
Times like this I love that we don’t have power to go out, because it surely would. We’re getting a storm more appropriate to January, not March. After a month of no snow, lots of sun, and temps so warm I was able to feed my bees (so glad of that now), wham! Dumping snow, howling winds.
Sticky snow, that looks so cool stuck on the windward side of everything. The house is being battered by wind, but really, sound is dampened by the think blanket of snow on all the trees.
And in the peaceful woods, there’s a chickadee bopping around. It popped out of one of the laden spruces, which strikes me as an excellent choice of hideout:And in the middle of it, some birds still avidly feeding. From bed we watch the horizontal snow, and birds riding it out on the waving branches, beaks into the wind.
Three little chicks. See how they drink. This is the pufftail stage. They’re still in the chickery with Mom (now in the slightly larger chickery), and they’ve graduated from the cardboard box and the nightly flight in to the house.
The other chicks, the two dwarves, have graduated up to the girls only fort. The sisters are not as accepting of the two dwarves (they soon need better names). Perhaps they are roosters. But their mother, Snow White, decisively declared she was done with child care by flying out of the chickery. I thought it might be a fluke and put her back in. She let me know it was not an accident, she was moving on to the next phase of her life and chicks weren’t a part of it.
I tried putting her in the fort too but she just paced the fence. She had a boyfriend on the outside. Straight back in the nesting box. In other news, Lucky Stewie is a reformed rooster. He’s been on his best behaviour.