I realized this morning that I’ve not kept y’all up to date about the girls…
so I took my camera with me as I made the rounds to collect any eggs they laid this morning.
Those strawberries never grew well here…they always dried out and I got tired of hand watering them.
My fault I suppose.
That sign over their nesting boxes is for encouragement…or to remind them what to do in case they forget…hehe.
ME: Good morning girls!
{They came in from outside to greet me.}
GIRLS: Got treats?
ME: What?!? I thought you loved me unconditionally.
But I am indeed the bearer of treats.
Going…
going…
gone…
in 10 pecks or less.
OK…that’s enuf excitement for one morning 😉
The girls are molting now…feathers feathers feathers everywhere…
shedding the old and growing new ones.
But that means we get fewer eggs while their energies are spent growing new feathers.
This morning there were only two eggs…{that dirty one is a wood one}…so seven chickens produced only two eggs.
The shorter days don’t help either.
Can I get at least four a day?!? Mr. Denim has a big appetite.
Come on girls!
We installed some of that wavy clear stuff on their old run so they’d have a warm place to hang out.
They can get pretty cooped up in the coop…even tho it’s new and improved.
The old coop is closed for business…it’s too small for them and not insulated.
I was smitten by its cute look when buying it…and didn’t consider our winter temperatures.
Live and learn, right?
Nor did we realize what destroyers they are!
Here is a pic circa 2013 when it was all nice and spiffy…and that lasted about one month.
What did this California born and bred girl know? Absolutely nothing about chickens that’s what.
That’s why it’s called older & wiser. Usually.
They now have straw on the ground to scratch and peck at.
Hey, it keeps them entertained and busy. You don’t wanna have bored chickens.
It’s called damage control.
But still to this day Lovey…that independent and unique gal…always does her own thing.
She’s outside while the others are inside.
She sees something interesting…
in the compost bin of course…
until something else gets her attention…
and away she goes.
These girls have such short attention spans.
And…oooops…me too I guess…
I forgot to wear my muck boots in their yard.
Where’s the hose?
