Sunday, October 11, 2015

Bawk. BAWKBAWK.

And so it has come to pass, after many months of nothing but talk and a little bit of construction SPREAD OUT OVER MANY MONTHS, that I am a chicken-mama.

This past week has been spent attending Chicken University, an online self-directed (and self-invented) course consisting of reading countless message boards, blogs, websites and YouTube videos on All Things Chicken, resulting in this:
I think I've done more clucking than the birds.

No names quite yet, but I thought Fallopia would be fitting. And possibly Ovaria. Gotta come up with three names for three chickens. But then again, maybe one name for all three chickens. Or rename them every week/month/equinox. Would the chickens care?

One thing that's become most evident in this new venture is how staid I've become in my routines, and how this small, feathered flock (with surprisingly menacing claws) has upset the chicken cart, as it were.

I've especially enjoyed watching them plucking and fussing at the straw when settling in the nest to lay an egg. Two of them apparently had the egg urge at the same time this morning and climbed all over each other to find the best spot. When I returned, about a half hour later, there was the gift of two eggs.

I'm not holding my breath for a golden egg that I could bring to the King aka Bank of America so I can pay off my mortgage. Or at the least, trade for a few magic beans. (But where would I go, climbing that magic bean stalk?) But who knows. Every new venture opens doors (and in this case, it's a coop door).

Funny — the cats are steering clear. And here I thought they'd be entertained unto infinity. I think it's going to be me who's entertained unto infinity.

Bawk.

11 comments:

  1. You're lucky, my three gals are bloody hopeless; in fact I think they've stopped laying altogether.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Cro, have you had a conversation with them about this?

      Delete
    2. I shall be leaning the axe against their door..... it's worked before.

      Delete
  2. you could just call each one "Chicken." Simply matters greatly. Fresh eggs are the best. I used to have chickens, a long time ago when Laurel was 2 y.o. I also had pigeons when L. was 14. Used those eggs as well! Tiny, Tiny, eggs over easy.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pigeons?! Don't you mean squab?!!

      I have to say I laughed at the sight of "tiny, tiny eggs over easy."

      T.

      Delete
  3. Delightful! I just knew the bawk bawk was going to be about chickens! I o=do detect an American accent in the bawk bawk I have to say...I think our kiwi chooks are more of the brurk brurk variety of sqwawk but who knows I had a duck honking on my doorstep this morning where it learned to do that I don't know!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Helen, I think your "brurk brurk" is more accurate. In fact, I haven't heard a single "bawk". Nor have I heard a "cluck".

      Honking duck?! Duck/goose hybrid, perhaps?

      T.

      Delete
  4. What provoked you to acquire three hens?

    They'll stop laying soon, presumably, as the winter light takes over. At least ours stopped on the farm in the deepest dark of winter. Then as spring approached they laid eggs to brood over, i.e. make chicks. But as you have no rooster . . . .

    Love, C.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. C., it's a "thing", urban chickens. Fresh organic eggs and as much garden fertilizer as I want. (And more work than I expected but oh well.) As for laying, the coop is lit from 5am to 9pm. So eggs year 'round from my little egg slaves. And definitely no rooster!
      xT.

      Delete
  5. Roosters are such determined alarm clocks!

    Lovely eggs!

    ReplyDelete