snow

I’ve been keeping the eight guys indoors most days lately, opening up their door only when the sun is out. They still seem little worse for the wear after weeks of roaming around in the sub-zero cold. They’ve suffered a little frostbite to the tips of their combs, likely from the severest cold nights in the coop, and there’s no sure way around that short of insulating and heating the chickenhouse (Bob said that happened even with 300 layers sharing body heat). Some days, they seem to like just standing around in the snow, even when there’s feed, warm water once or twice a day, and comfy dry litter at home. They often stand on one leg at a time, keeping the other one warm…

It’s officially WINTER, finally, and now the days get longer… Yay. Chickens and snow are the only real farm action around here at the moment, although things are going to get real busy really soon! Meanwhile, there’s always CHICKENS. On one hand, the 25 girls are productively laying away in the chilly but still kinda snug chickenhouse. They do eat eggs, with gusto, but I don’t think any of them have turned into egg-breaking fiends, although the investigation is ongoing. And then there are the guys, past their meat-bird prime, and now a bit of a puzzle—if you’re not gonna eat ’em, why are they here?—but fun to watch, especially on ice (and still really economical on feed). Every day, they come up with a new, apparently random decision on whether to head out into miserable weather, or not. Today, they decided to exit the coop, but then made straight for the main lower barn door, where they’ve been trying to get in for hours. If they want back in, why wait till dark, why not GO HOME NOW? Do they expect me to lead them? Carry them? (Can chickens really play checkers?)