Chick Flick......

We have 6 chicks to date, more on the way. The Bantams are blissfully unaware that they are foster parents!

I was a little worried by our style of birthing centre this time; Housed in a converted cupboard inside a 3m x 3m secure compound, 3 Bantams sit close together incubating 15 eggs. Far from being a problem, their close proximity has meant that the three 'would-be' mothers have shared the chick care: They take turn sitting on the eggs, scratting with the hatched babies outside the coop and at night the chicks snuggle under which ever mother is closest. A great family model.

Death to bugs.... by the Human Buffet..

I cleaned the chicken coop today and made it all gorgeous for the girls. I do it weekly (not weakly) so as to ensure they have a nice comfy place to plop the eggs. To be honest I don't know why I bloody bother; the Bantams have completely slipped from my radar screen, preferring to hide their tinsey-winsey white eggs somewhere within the grounds. Drives me bonkers. They have been warned and the market looms.

As if the fact that chickens seem to do all of their poo in the coop at night wasn't unpleasant enough, today I had to deal with yet more revoltingness. Leaning into the little coop to scoop up the sawdust, I noticed a little mass of squirmy red stuff near the perches.

Intrigued, I leaned in even closer, resting my head on the wooden boards above the back door and YUCK upon yuck!.. I could see that there was a mass of tiny red mites on the wooden slats, presumably having a bacchanalian party to make yet more mites..

The hot, humid weather has obviously been perfect for them. I have used mite powder before, dusting all the chickens just in case, but to see the little parasitic blighters was horrid.

I pulled back my head and started examining every crevice. That's when I realised that I had rested my head on another village of blood suckers, there were squillions of them but the moving mass was no bigger than a penny piece.

Since then I have mega cleaned the coop, I have dusted chickens, I have showered and scrubbed my hair and yet I seem still, some 10 hours later, to be being used as a human buffet by creatures that look like walking grains of ground black pepper, (or red pepper if they've feasted. Shudder.) They are in my hair, down my back, in the arms of my sweater and as I sit here trying to concentrate I feel sure they are about to penetrate my sturdy smalls. I cannot tell you how defiled I feel.

All my dreams of being a vaguely competent farmer in years to come are being dashed by something that is like red sand with teeth. [scratch, scratch, itch itch, SQUASH! SQUASH!  ... oh look a blood streak! smile..]

If this is how it feels to be a chicken in a coop with mites then I really hope reincarnation is a myth.

Tomorrow I'm buying this stuff; it's a bomb for the coop.... at this rate I'll be sat in there when it goes off... naked....

....Oh my goodness I can't take anymore biting, I'm off to throw my clothes on the bonfire and then I'm washing again and again and again...

Bet you can't wait for the blogs posts when we get sheep..... have you heard of dagging or crutching?????

Released into the Community

Blimey bantams are feisty little things!

If you remember we had the argy-bargy the other week and had to divide the chicks' coop in two. At one end resided three tiny trouble-makers, ruffians, (boys of course!!) Turns out I have 4 boys and 5 girls, 6 if you count their mum. Hubby is thrilled, NOT! The remaining sociable six were bunked at the other end of the coop and both gangs had their own seperate runs.

This weekend I felt like I was living in a madhouse. The chicks were getting stir-crazy, fed up being cooped. There were mini cock fights every hour and along with the monsoon rain, I could have convinced myself I was living in Thailand if it hadn't been so pigging cold. Meanwhile the cats were bringing us gifts. Benny is an efficient assassin and tends to eat that which he murders, while Tabby is rather clumsy and likes the chase more than the eating bit. He kindly brought a live squirrel back to the walled garden and before our eyes he managed to lose it. It lashed off, turned left, bounded into the house and up the stairs. We haven't seen it since!

By Saturday lunchtime I reached a momentous decision: the chicks had to be free. For the past 48 hours all nine chicks have been in purgatory in the bungalow, (the annex to the main coop lovingly created by hubby.) These winged devils were destined, somewhat early, for their free range life.

In theory if you lock your chickens up for a couple of days they associate their prison as home, hopefully returning to it in the evening for shelter. This theory has sort-of worked in the past!

This morning (Monday) started slow and damp but it's lovely and warm now so I've gathered all my courage and released the little tornadoes into the community.

They are bananas. Now they're picking fights with my big hens, heedless of their disadvantage size-wise! We'll see if they last the day.

I've 23 chickens at large now, although I may have to find homes for the 4 roosters if they start getting frisky with their sisters. Quite enough poultry for The Larches I feel........ pigs next!!! Don't tell hubby.