The Blue Maran, Soufflé, (we think) has LAID SOME EGGS. Six of them to be precise. A nice half-dozen. I thought she might have shot them out all at once but, I was put right by the farmer’s wife, who told me, (whilst falling about laughing at my ignorance), that the hen will only lay one egg a day. So she must have made her secret nest a while ago and started laying. The farmer found them in the paddock — lucky no-one else found them first. The grass in the area needs strimming and the farmer has not had time to do it yet. The Man is busy cycling in The Alps, I can’t get him over the road to lend a hand right now. But, as soon as he returns, whether he likes it or not, he’ll have to help out. Otherwise, no eggs for him!
‘You BOUGHT sweetcorn for them? You paid money for something to feed them when they’re happy with scraps?’ My farming neighbour was incredulous.
‘Well, it wasn’t from Waitrose,’ I said.
I was visiting my new hobby which I am able to enjoy at the farm opposite our cottage.
I had an idea a while ago, that I would like to keep some hens but there’s no room in our garden, so I approached my neighbour and asked her if she would allow me to buy three hens, to join her three and then there would be six, and I could have some of the eggs. Yeah! I was quite happy to pay for food etc., and she agreed with the arrangement. I don’t think she thought I would be quite so ‘silly’ about my girls.
At the end of July I went to Forde Abbey Fair… bought 3 young ‘point of lay’ hens, put them in a box and brought them back to Wooth. They had to spend a couple of hours in a vacant dog kennel at the farm because, apparently, it was better to introduce them to the others in the hen-house, during the hours of darkness. Don’t ask me why, perhaps it has something to do with the moon. They seemed happy enough the next day, but were kept inside the small run for a few days, this is enclosed within a much larger run for daytime use. It’s taken a while for them all to settle down and get to know each other. A few days later I was told they were running in the big pen by the farmer, ‘Your pullets are out!’ he shouted across the road. I made a quick check about my person before I realised what he meant. Then rushed over to check my little darlings.
I’ve called them, Soufflé, (a Blue Marane), Coddle (A Columbia Black Tail), and Meringue, an Amber Star. Much better names than those suggested by my neighbours which were, Kiev, Chasseur and Cockauvin!! Needless to say, I preferred to call them by the egg related dishes.
From the left: Soufflé, Meringue, and Coddle – Meet the Girls
For a week or so, there were two groups of three hens, hers and mine. Integration is taking time. Nothing is laying anything at the moment. I hope my little chickadees haven’t upset the equilibrium. . .
Rest assured, I will be ‘clucking’ as soon as I get my first egg!