New life, happy life

These gorgeous little chicks are the first to be

hatched out under a heat lamp over at

Sue's blog Our New Life In The Country

they're now 4 weeks old and starting to feather-up

and look like proper little bantams.

How lovely to see them, knowing they'll have

a happy free-range life and not be

imprisoned in a battery cage

like I was, 

and so many other girls still are. . .

Before & After

These days I'm feeling very well and happy. . .

but I just thought you might like to see

the photos below

taken on the day I arrived to stay with The People,

just over one year ago

I felt very weak and wobbly,

I couldn't stand on my poorly leg,

my comb was pale pink and floppy,

 I was cold without my feathers

and not at all waterproof!

I'm very happy here. . .

it's MUCH nicer than the battery

even if I do have to put up with Martina's moods!

and if I wait on the patio

someone always comes out to talk to me

(and give me a tasty treat-

this week its grapes YUM!)

I want some attention!!

So how is a girl supposed to get the attention of The People these days?!

I've been wanting to dictate a post for AGES, but since She came up with this idea for
Vintage at the Village Hall
everything at Henny Towers has been a mad whirl of discussing flyers, organising advertising and compiling floor-plans.

I've tried to make suggestions but they've been rudely ignored. . .and I think I probably know more about flyers than people without wings don't you?

On the plus side, all the cake baking going on in the kitchen in order to find the best recipes for The Day means lots of chookie titbits to be had, and even if Martina thinks she'll get first choice by tapping on the window, I can limp up and down outside the back door with my poor lame leg and ALWAYS get more sympathy. . .and more cake!

The Poultry Pages

When I overheard The People saying you could find answers on the Web, I went to see the spider in the corner of the woodshed to ask him that age-old riddle "who came first. . ."
Unfortunately Martina walked past and, with her hunger for knowledge promptly ate him, then The People came along with a broom so the site has been removed.

Martina says The People were actually talking about The Poultry Pages which is a fantastic website all about keeping chickens and other birds, and also allotments. They even have a free fortnightly newsletter.
I haven't seen it myself but it must be good because the information they found on it made me better.

How a spider knows all these things about chickens (and allotments) is beyond me, but I suppose if you can spin a web you can do pretty much anything. . .

Thankyou, normality has returned!

thankyou ALL for your kind wishes and concern, I am feeling much better today thankyou, my comb is standing up again and has returned to its nice shade of pinky-red instead of purple, which didn't suit me at all.
Everyone (even Martina) has been very nice to me, and I've had natural yoghurt and grapes to build up my strength, and cider vinegar in my water to help with the bacteria that had built up in my crop.
I rather enjoyed all the pampering, and Martina was quite jealous!
The People said they were quite worried about me, and spoke to the vet who had the cheek to say I was rather old!
I'll be posting again very shortly.
With lots and lots of love
Henny Penny xx

Under the Weather

Hello dear readers.

I've been quite poorly this week.
All this rain has made me feel quite literally "under the weather", and I wish I'd finished my moult instead of being partly clothed and partly undressed (unlike Naomi Campbell I can't blame baldness on hair extensions) because this unseasonal damp has caught us all unawares!

Our chicken-house is at the top of the garden, and trees have been felled and cleared in the woods behind with heavy machinery tractors and chainsaws working all day- I've been very upset with the loud noise and all the comings-and-goings.
I wanted to go back into the coop and make a huge nest under the straw but everything rattled with the vibrations.
They put me in a cosy box in the utility room of The House where it was more peaceful, but Martina created such a fuss outside on her own.
When she was allowed in to keep me company she blotted her copybook (and the floor) after eating all the cat's food. . .at least it was fish flavour and not c*****n

Martina suggested calming meditation but I fell asleep, and I did attempt Tai Chi but fell over.
In the end I hid under the hedge and stopped eating. . .I understand henorexia can be brought on with stress.

A lady came and gave me Reiki healing which was very nice and warm, and I've also had Nutri Drop Tonic (horrible- tastes like Marmite) and Rescue Remedy, and natural yogurt to calm any bacteria in my crop.

This morning I feel much brighter- I ate some layers-pellets and breadcrumbs mashed up for my breakfast (chook equivalent of a lightly scrambled egg).

I'm now well on the road to recovery; everyone in The House was very worried about me, they say I'm very sensitive for a hen, but then I am no ORDINARY hen!  ;o)

Squatters rights?

Thankyou all very much for your help with my problem last week when Martina comandeered my newly excavated dug-out, causing me to miss out on my favourite dustbath.

I took the advice Bertha gave me about Asserting My Authority .
It must have worked because Martina has been very well behaved ever since.

In return, I've turned a blind eye to her stealing my straw in the middle of the night to replenish her own nest. . . after all, she's the one laying the eggs so she needs a good nights sleep to build up her push-power.

So. . .what tips can you all give me on removing the latest squatter?
I turned my back for one minute to chase a grasshopper and the next moment Kit was curled up sound asleep in my nice fresh crater.

Should I start worrying about a visit from Bruce the Horse?

what do we do with a problem like Martina?

It was my idea to build a dugout under the hedge

I dug mine and settled in for a good dust bath

and then Martina comes along and has to re-arrange everything

no its not in the right place, not the right size, not deep enough....

and before you know it, she's dug in,

fluffing and huffing and puffing and preening like she's

somebody special

and there isn't room for two. . .in fact with her EGGO there's hardly room for one!

I retreated under the hedge and left her to it.

Just wait til bedtime.

She's not getting any room on the perch!

Uh oh. . .Henny Penny PIE!!

Uh oh!

pieminister have added another pie to their range.

If you don't hear from me next week. . .

Walls have ears? No. . .sheds have eyes!

I thought we had a big enough problem with our squirrel intruder last week, but poor Mabel and Bessie over at Poppy's Place had an even worse experience!

While they were pottering around the garden (as we do), two young foxes had a grandstand view,  perched the roof of the garden shed!

Luckily their mum Jane was on hand to usher the girls to safety.

It brings to mind that old wartime saying beware walls have ears. . .in our case it should be beware sheds have eyes!

EEK! An Intruder!

Yesterday we had an intruder in our chicken run. He jumped off the overhanging tree and found a tiny gap in the wire to squirm through.

I don't mind meeting Woodland Folk, but he ATE OUR DISH OF PASTA, which I think is VERY impolite, even for an uninvited visitor.

Martina wanted to peck him but after all the hoo-ha in the newspapers this week, I didn't fancy a £1500 fine!

Today the fence has been reinforced, so now all I have to worry about is Martina getting more than her fair share. . .after all, it is HENNY PENNE!

Bird Brained? Moi?

No, this isn't the latest picture of me and Martina in the garden!

Jimmy Doherty showed an interesting TV program last night called the Private Life of Chickens.
In it he discussed our descendance from Tyrannosaurus Rex, the natural pecking order we form as flocks and our ability to recognise shaped containers holding food treats.

Well- he only needed to ask me!
With the size of eggs I lay I must be T-Rex's grand-daughter!
Pecking Order is all about showing what we could do, rather than what we would do- and it means Martina continues to behave herself and let me have first dibs at the corn.
Any chicken worth her feathers would recognise where treats are hidden within minutes of being asked. . .especially when those treats are mealworms which are our favourite!

He should've made a film called the Private Life of Henny. . .time for my close-up Mr deMille. . .

PS did he REALLY expect to fool us into panic mode by putting a STUFFED fox outside our pen?
Does he think we're bird-brained?

Faded Floral Fowl

In her recent Birthday Weekend Post, Jane and the Happy Crow showed photos of  a visit to the most FABULOUS Cornish holiday destination, gardens, farm and interiors shop, Trevoole Farm, where even the chickens and ducks are Vintage Styled, with faded floral fabrics covering the roofs of their shabby chic homes.

If I start walking now, how far is it to Cornwall?

Us poor Supermodels. . .

Oh dear Naomi,

exactly the same thing has happened to me. . .

hair extension damage?

No, just seasononal moult

Where are you now?

Friendships formed at work are funny- you say that you'll keep in touch no matter what, but somehow it doesn't happen.
Most of the girls I worked with in Egg Production started the same day as me- in fact we were at the Rearing Unit together and had been friends since fluffy chicks.
Our work-stations at the Egg Factory were quite small with five of us sharing the same space, so we were (quite literally) working on top of one another most of the time.
With duties completed first thing in the morning, we hung out for the rest of the day chatting.
Meals were sent round from the canteen, and with no housework to do or nests to build the time did drag.

Although productivity had slowed redundancy came as a bit of a shock, but with the generous offer of a short-term alternative in Processing and Packaging, we felt our futures were certain.

The day of The Move was very hectic and our transport was loaded to capacity. Some fretted about their lack of feathers, but the man said they would soon have something called "cellophane" to keep them warm.
Due to an unfortunate mishap I missed boarding (I'll tell you the whole story later) but I knew we would all speak again soon.

So where are they now?