Chickens put themselves to bed, which is one of the things I love about chickens. I have to tuck in the gents, tell the lovely ladies it's lights out time, call the cats. But the chickens put themselves to bed. Unless, of course, they fly over the chicken yard fence into the big back yard. It wasn't quite as dark as it seems in the photos, but the chuckly biddies were sure happy when I opened the gate to their yard so that they could waddle their way back to the coop. Why can they fly one way but not the other?
Today, loving husband and I decided to put an end to their sport, especially since last week an escapee made it into the neighbor's yard while I was gone and had to be chased by my very dedicated friend B. This afternoon we clipped their wings. Easier than giving the gents a haircut. Loving-but-not-so-sure-about-the-chicken-thing husband held the chickens for me while I clipped, and he was visibly relieved that it wasn't completely awful and thinks that chickens might not be so bad after all.
For directions on clipping a chicken's wings, complete with diagram and pictures, click here. Another set of directions here, with tips on how to hold the chicken and emergency directions in case you clip the wrong feathers and your chicken starts to bleed to death.
A couple weeks ago we put a glass egg in the nest box and started getting eggs within a few days. First Hattie with her dark brown eggs, then Lucy, whose eggs are a light pinkish-tan. Ethel has finally started laying too, eggs the same color as Lucy's, so we're getting 2-3 eggs per day. Sweet husband was absolutely charmed when he collected an egg still warm.
Wonder what he'll think when I tell him that now I want pigs too?