While technically, our coop is big enough for 4 chickens, our 3 love to run around our yard.
The chicky-doodles are not laying yet, but we’ve been lucky enough to enjoy eggs from our friends and family and know how much better they taste. I’m not the only one:
It’s a huge difference. In color and in taste,” says chef Paul Keevil of Millie’s Diner in Richmond. “When you cook them, they glow. They’re just iridescent in the pan. Each one is different because every chicken has eaten different things. And the taste is just night and day.
So I’m hesitant to keep the girls cooped up. (Yes, pun intended).
BUT…Jim was cleaning the yard with the dog’s pooper-scooper because we’ve had too many “Ewww, I just stepped in…” lately. Let’s see what he builds next weekend.
Until then we’ll step carefully.
In a fit of Sun-Induced-Euphoria and Fleeting-Warmth– a powerful combination during a Minnesota Spring, I herded the chickens back outside. Chicken Farmer #3 thought it was a great day to paint. I agreed. As the chickens wandered around the garden searching for bugs, we primed the roofs and sides.
All was well until Chicken Farmer #3 needed help in the bathroom. Fearing an encounter with a hawk, I ushered the girls back into their coop and went inside. Little did I know the primer was dripping through the roof boards onto the chickens and into their water. Everyone needed a bath.
The chickens were good sports during their sponge baths. I’m hoping the paint I couldn’t wash off will wear off soon…
After a fun day in the real world, the chirping, huddling chicks persuaded us that it was too cold to spend the night outside. Here is Dolly under the heat lamp and then the crowd of them in their tiny basement pen.