All The Single Ladies

No boys are allowed in our henhouse. Not that we don't like them, but things are just so much more peaceful without them. The five ladies are then free to sit quietly on their nests, knitting away like Prissy from Bugs Bunny, or just talking amongst themselves like the girls on The View.

If we are lucky this spring, we will begin to get five different coloured and sized eggs, one from each hen. Last year there were only three different eggs, and I'm still puzzled as to which two are cheating me..I try to peek into the communal nesting box after one is finished, but they don't like to get off of the nest while I'm watching (a bit shy they are). They mysteriously switch users as soon as I leave and head on back to the house. Although they each have their own box, in bright colours and their coop is more a stylish chicken condo than a mere farmyard accommodation, they all prefer to use the same nest. I think I read somewhere that if one chicken uses it, it's considered a safe place for the next one to use, and so on.....giving new meaning to the phrase "which came first...." or "who's on first" or something like that. Kudos to the brave hen who pioneers the first egg each day.

The long cold days of winter are sad for the hens who normally spend their summer days outside foraging for bugs in the sun, and taking long dirt baths in the shade. When I pass by their stall to say goodnight these days, they have begun to stare at me blankly with boredom, or is it perhaps something slightly akin to distain. After all, it was I who made the "no men" rule, and feeling a bit of a hypocrite as I trudge back through the cold darkness to my warm bed and nice husband foot-warmer, maybe what they'd really like is a little excitement in the form of a Brad Pitt chicken equivalent, or perhaps a Tiger Woods type...after all...there are five of them!